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If you have a character who lives in Umbar, chances are, they have a home there too! Want to write your slave trader, coming home after a long day of buying/selling slaves? Or maybe you're a rich nobleman who's busy overseeing his estate, on the fringes of the city. You could be a slave who's looking for your chance to escape from your master. Or perhaps you're just a citizen from a poor family, just trying to steal enough to survive another day. You might be an ambitions crime boss, running a gang of young aspiring thugs, or maybe you're a corsair sailor, coming home after a long voyage of raiding and pillaging. Whatever the case, you can write your home settings right here!

Possible locations include, but are not limited to:

This is where the poorest of citizens dwell, if they're fortunate enough to afford a place to live at all. Families here are crammed close to other families, and the children often end up being recruited into the various gangs and criminal organizations that run the Warrens. People here fight over everything; from scraps of food to the best place to sleep at night, and sometimes, families who struggle to make ends meet, might even end up selling some of their children into slavery. The life of poverty is definitely undesirable in the slums of Umbar!

This area is, you guessed it, located alongside the harbor bay, amid seedy taverns, brothels, and fish-selling stalls. While this is still not the best living conditions, it is only a slight step up from the Warrens. Given it's proximity to the harbor, many sailor's and fisher's families live here.

This is another section on the other end of the harbor, where a multitude of houses were built right on the pier, over the bay. While this may seem like a luxury, it is quite the opposite, for the homes in this area have always struggled with flooding during high tide. This area is known as the 'Wet Walk', because the pier going from house to house is usually wet except during low tide, and is sometimes ankle-deep when the tide is highest, resulting in the name. Those who live here are constantly having to try and keep the tide from seeping through their foundations, and often have to keep their belongings off the floor if they don't want them to succumb to mold or rot. Not to mention whatever else might end up in the bay from the sewer. I wouldn't recommend eating the fish pulled out of that part of the harbor...

Housing gets progressively nicer as you work your way up the city, and Tide's reach is proof of that. While the Wet Walk is built practically on top of the water, those who live in Tide's Reach have the resources to build their homes on proper stilts, so that they tower over their lowly neighbors. These houses are bigger, better built, and thus only inhabited by those with the money to live in them. Or else, they killed the previous owner and no one's dared to kick them out. Who knows.

The city climbs upward toward the top of the hill, with the quality of housing conditions climbing the higher you go. There are multiple streets and alleyways. Some of these may have names like Heritage Lane, Marine Way, Tempest Avenue, Seacliff Lane, Seagull Street, and so forth. Make up your own if you like! I've focused more on sea-themed names due to the harbor, and also keeping in mind their proud lineage as Numenoreans.

As you move into upper regions, and the outskirts of the city, you'll begin to find that the houses here are mansions surrounded by whatever gardens or grounds the residents prefer to keep; the homes of the very wealthy and powerful families of Umbar. Thieves, beware, for while these homes are often quite appealing targets, they are also fiercely defended according to the homeowner's discretion. You may just find yourself becoming the next temple sacrifice, should you be caught breaking into the homes of these powerful citizens!

Out beyond the city limits, you'll find the estates of the Umbarian Nobility, situated on sprawling acres of land owned by their families for Sauron-knows-how-long. Most likely, these have accumulated more and more land over the generations, always greedily adding to what they own. It's very likely that many a cutthroat method was employed to gain more land, but who's going to make such accusations against a Lord of Umbar? Whatever the case, trespassers beware, for these folks are not very forgiving if you dare to set one foot on their grass!

In addition to the estates of the wealthiest citizens, you may also find some scattered farms, orchards, vineyards, along with the homes of those who make a living trying to coax from the land whatever crops as will grow in the harsh, hot climate of Harad.

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This is a free RP thread for writing in the settings of your Umbarian homes. Feel free to make up your own locations, street names, etc. Just be sure to keep it in the spirit of Umbar. (no Elven names, etc.) It is a harbor city, and its people have served Sauron for many years. The citizens would be a mix of:
Haradrim, the local residents of Harad, who have naturally darker skin tones.
Black Numenoreans, who came from those Numenoreans who settled in Umbar before Numenor was flooded and began to worship the Shadow(Sauron). They are the descendants now of the earliest settlers who built Umbar from nothing, and began enslaving the local Haradrim. (Black does not refer to their skin color)
Corsairs, sea-faring descendants of Castamir, who was the naval royal who wanted to be king in Gondor, started a civil war, and then he and all his navy left Gondor and came to Umbar instead.
These people have intermingled over the many generations, so the lines had blurred somewhat by now. People here are raised under the shadow of Sauronic worship, and are brought up to hate Tarks(Gondorians) and anything to do with the despicable elves. So, beware of that if you choose to come here as any character allied with the enemies of Umbar.


Rules of this thread

• Please follow the general Plaza posting rules
• This is an IC-only thread. Please only post ‘in character’ posts here, though if you have a very short Ooc comment, you can white it out. Otherwise, please take it to the appropriate Ooc channel (an ooc thread, discord, etc)
• You're welcome to use any point in time you like, just please make sure to post the date/general timeline at the top of your post to avoid uncertainty
• Please respect the themes of Tolkien and refrain from any craziness like time travel or Real world/modern day intrusions, such as ‘Dr Pepper’ or cars, etc.
• Any OOC questions please take to the local OOC thread, not here.
• Please provide a location and your name at the top of your post to avoid confusion.
• Please state whether your RP is open or private, etc.
• And to clear up any potential confusion concerning water, there is an aqueduct system established for Umbar, as well as sewers. (These would probably drain out near the Wet Walk district of the city and flow into the ocean. Yay for the people who live there.)

Much thanks and credit goes to @Ercassie for all the helpful advice and ideas in making this thread.

He never knew when precisely to expect the man would come. But Arkadhur already knew just what to expect, when he inevitably did come. The man whom his mother called ‘Sal’ always made sure to press a shiny gold coin into the boy’s hand as soon as he arrived. And then he’d draw the curtain and spend time with the boy’s mother. At his tender age, Arkadhur had not yet put together what the two things meant, but he knew not to interrupt or ask what they were doing. The man’s guard did not like that. He’d demanded to know if the boy wanted to ‘get it’. The boy was not sure what ‘it’ was but it did not sound good, if it made the guard that angry. He'd never asked the Guard's name but he knew the man was a Guard. He wore a sword at his hip, after all. And Sal dressed too well to be anything other than a gentleman. They did not have gentlemen living in this street. But the two were mostly not unkind if he did not cause them any bother. And now sometimes he played tiddly winks with the guard to pass the time for them both. Twice now he had even been given a ‘sup’ of rum. Which apparently would put hair on his chest, though it hadn’t happened yet. He’d checked every single day until he forgot all about it. Eventually Sal would leave, and Arkadhur’s mother would ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over the shiny treasure the boy showed off after. And his mother would sing and hum all about for the rest of the day.

The first time which did not go as expected, was the last time that ‘Sal’ visited with the boy’s mother. It had been different right from the start, when the massive corsair broke through their door without even bothering to knock, cast the curtain aside and grabbed the woman, all the while demanding to know “Are you stupid ? What’s wrong with you ?”

The boy had not known that there was anything wrong, and he certainly did not think his mother was stupid. She managed to exchange that shiny gold coin each time for lots of things they needed. It was like magic. She spoke and men did whatever she wanted. The boy hoped she could calm Sal down but the man had not stopped shouting yet and so who knew when she’d manage to get a word in !

“You come begging at my father’s house ? You brought the boy ? Damnation woman !” A string of further colourful expletives fell out of Sal’s mouth as Arkadhur tried to understand, and his mother tried to explain.

“What choice was I left with but to watch him starve ? We had nothing. I didn’t know when you’d be back. And not another man will come near me since what you did to the last ..”

“I always come back,” the tall man scowled, and then retrieved the largest bag of gold coins that the boy had ever imagined, let alone seen. Sal dropped it to the floor at the woman’s feet, and one of her bare feet recoiled from the blow, though no hand dared to console it. Arkadhur’s mother did not even dare herself to take eyes down to guess after the value of the ‘gift’. “Now I’m to sea, and who knows when .. but I will be back,” the promise was growled along the throat of the man until he sighed and apparently relented. “You’ll have to give up something for me to remember you by until then.” He drew the fingers of one hand along the smooth line of the woman’s jaw, with all the care he had not afforded the gift flung at her un-shoed feet.


As his mother gestured for the man to join her, beyond the curtain which one trembling hand was already reaching to draw behind them, her frequent guest tore his gaze away and turned, nodding once to his guard as they both made for the exit without a further word. When the Guard’s grip took the small boy at his arm, Arkadhur jerked, to make way and expected to be bowled aside. But no, the man kept a hold and even tightened his grasp. Until the boy was dragged along with them out of the room. His mother dropped to her knees, though whether in despair and horror or to count her pay .. there was not time to see.

They were halfway down the street when the boy realised that his mother was not stopping .. whatever this was. So he ceased dragging his heels and instead did his best to keep up with the men’s long strides. The next time he went home, there would be no home there left to find.

The quay erupted in a dread effulgent blast that propelled sailors and their vessels alike to a slowly suffocating grave of watery depths, their disfigured bodies already rent by flame and fury. The gulf of Umbar was ablaze. It's every resident entangled in a struggle for survival against demons that came upon them by great stealth and devious contrivance.

White ships manned by white faces, their sharp eyes flinty and unyielding as they spied their prey, suspended in proud latency about the ancient dock. Gondor had come upon the roost of her compounded foes, and laid all to waste. The Corsair fleet was slowly, utterly consumed by the almighty raging hunger of a seemingly endless inferno. Bodies littered the remnants of their berth, cast in disarray about the splintered wreckage, as their migrant defiler summoned all of her ruthless efficiency to render all here ever now no more.

The strength of Umbar was despoiled, by both bonfire and blade. And when they were done, the marauders leapt back upon the decks of their own resplendent armada, and disappeared, with so great a speed that their abrupt departure was as little marked as had been their arrival. Any survivors that remained had little thought to pursuit of their swift antagonist.

The heart of the Corsairs had effectively been ripped from about her defiant chest and abandoned to smoulder in the rising obscurity of retch-inducing, breath-depriving smoke. Deadly, errant sparks arrayed the sky as an anarchic swarm of fireflies. And all that yet drew life within their congested lungs called for some as yet unseen source of power, a beacon of reassuring authority, someone anyone that might guide them now to vengeance in this hour of unforeseen loss.

Long had this formidable anchorage been privy to amended dominion, and factions of divergent motive and historic consequence had evolved to form a coalition with one sole affinity. Corsairs, Black Numenoreans, Haradrim ... each and all detested the scourge that is Gondor, the residuum of all their long fought grievances ; today revisited without exception.

---

The swift hands which cast open the almighty, engraved doors looked not to safeguard the means of their entry. They spilled through the seemingly incompetent space and hindered their own progress with the clog of haste and rushing chaos. They abandoned the screaming, brutal cries beyond, the garish ruddy sky and the call for arms. They bore forth into assumed safety, their own purpose and concern. The Lord of the house, and his eldest son beside him, each laid out on makeshift litters, borne by many dirtied but desperate aids out of the wreckage. Both men were great captains of their now depleted ships; both men were undoubtedly, and horribly wounded. Jenahda released the warm grasp of her dark-haired lover as he turned from her attentions, to the sight of his father and brother so mangled nigh beyond all recognition.

Slaves were summoned and sent with all urgency and unbridled threats of reprisal about their critical tasks, as the bloodied remnants of Captains Korre and Salukhatar were lugged unto their each respective chambers. Pharak pulled away reluctantly from the girl he had been gifted – literally - his deep set eyes reading the meaning and significance of the surprise assault.


"If the Enemy can not conquer us, they shall seek to conclude us," Jenah noted, nonchalant as he abandoned her. “It is their way.”

"When I felt the earth move," Pharak considered her, "I thought the shudder merely the jolt of your affections .."

It was undeniable that the shrew before him had her wiles, and more often than not, she also had her way. The world around them always managed to disperse from all his proper consciousness when she and he were close. He knew that she thrived upon their much condemned acquaintance, and he knew that he should know better. But the woman knew her way around a man's thoughts with far more expertise than she had ever learned to bow or scrape. He admired the affronting sass and indomitable spirit that she had never relinquished. Even cast into the dregs of all proper society she garnered his esteem.

There were few who could manage to preserve their own sense of self-dignity under such circumstances. Of course, where she now stood was yet still much raised from her previous position, a mere woman lost amidst the ragged tribes, with no more right to choose her husband as to choose what words she might speak without fear of cruel rebuke. She had been traded up to him as though she were a speechless animal, incapable of mind or want for her own needs. Pharak had naturally, given thought to whether her illustrious father had possessed a greater wit than the corsair had first assumed. There was no way the Chieftain could have endured Jenah's provocative behaviour in his own domain for long, and surely had expected that enslavement would contort her unto a more demure character. It had not done so, but for all that Pharak was not displeased with her presence in his home. Of all things that he had to come back to, she stood the gleaming prize of an adamant diamond amidst a field of mere rocks.


“I see now that it was .. something else .. ” the Umbarian considered and concluded, calmly.

"You must see to them," the woman decided, at great length and with no small amount of disinclination. Of course, he recognised her reason. How should it look if he did not ? It might appear he did not care for his own kin ..

"We shall celebrate tonight," he promised her, letting his gaze fall one last time unto what she swore was an expanding belly. She smiled, following his eye and his line of thought. They should certainly have cause to celebrate later ..

Pharak was a second son, unhappily subservient to his absurdly nautical elders and she could not accompany him on his far-off ventures, and so she found herself likewise tethered to his abhorrent relations. A prospect that did not find either of the young lovers joyful. Well, now she had given him insurance of a family far better suited to that which he had been born unto. The wise old mystic that the lords here had so sagely assigned to kitchen duties had as much as told her she would give her beloved a son. Maybe two, he had smiled at her, with a crooked wizened leer. Maybe even three, she had suggested, to his great ensuing mirth. She would ensure of it, best to have spare after all.


Of course, if Captain Korre Halsad or his blasted heir, Salukhatar, she spat abruptly at the marbled floor to even think their names, were to ever discover that she was with child, then their vengeance would be absolute. Already she had forced herself to keep a far more civil tongue about her head when in their presence, merely to avoid any form of physical penance that would risk her unborn hope. Soon they would become suspicious of her altered disposition.

There was but one option left open to her, to any who might find themselves in her position. Jenahda was simply going to have to dispose of one, or preferably both, of her sources of foul contention. She had small doubt that any within this house would truly mourn the loss of either Captain Halsad or the spewling arrogance he had blueprinted in his eldest son. All feared and despised their master. Even Pharak who, for all his underhand and clandestine dealings with the enemy, was apparently incapable of raising even a finger against his own kin, at least in public. Unless ‘the Shadow’ spoke so to guide his hand.

Men ! Jenah sighed and made a rude noise deep within the base of her throat, for there were none here who might now observe her. Everyone was busy ... Fearful of the tiger's wrath, they flitted about like moths about a dancing flame, burning themselves for no good cause. If they would but realise they should snuff out that flame, or abandon the tiger to his detrimental injuries .... They would all be better off. Corsairs without ships are as much use to anybody as a forest without trees.

She had understood of course, the proper significance of possessing nautical faculty. For centuries, these lands had been breached by strangers that violated their rich shores. Cold, outlandish creatures had the plague comprised. First the pompous and aloof invasions of folk from their distant isle. Then the second wave of executives, this time from mere neighbouring coastland of the north. But sailors undeniable. Her own people were of the true sunlands, unceasing and utterly unconquered. But always, always had their borders been offended by rebels of other nations. Seeking to take what was not theirs, or seeking to stay and seek to claim it so, in all entirety.

Jenahda was dubious when it came to trusting the Gods of the sea. Always, always her people had suffered for the sake of these apparent mighty beings. But to control the port, to possess the means to meet any insurgent from elsewhere in battle at sea, before ever they might cast their hold about the plunder of riches inland; even she had to admit, that the Corsairs had managed to hold their own with such grand wisdom for some centuries uncounted. She had thought perhaps it might be time for her to unwillingly throw in her lot with them, at least as far as they would be aware.

But now ? What point now was there to Corsairs if there were no port to function ? They would diminish in both number and virtue as had the old fashioned relics that had come before them. Black Numenoreans were a tale to frighten small children. They had come, they had conquered, and eventually they had been absorbed. Digested, as it were, by the far greater population that remained inland. Corsairs were already trenching down the self same route. Tribes of Harad may not be united in varying and disputed allegiance to the Darkness, but they were all Haradrim regardless. Sooner or later, all that tried to reign over them were incorporated, and the blend was further more diverse. Soon they would obtain all of the strengths of all the nations that sought to subdue them, until they were a legion to be reckoned with like none before.


Jenah flourished with new vigour and design as she idly made her way along the passage. Of all slaves forced to endure servitude about this house, she was perhaps the only one who might escape chastisement for whatever thought she devilishly entertained. Pharak was hers. She had staked claim upon him, and as soon as her son (or even sons) were born, she would rule him as wholly as his people meant to hold sway over hers. She ambled with deliberate delay along her path to allow time for her lover to go from first his father to his brother. Captain Korre would have to be dispatched first. There was the matter of hierachy to consider after all. Father will best son. And Gondor may have bested Umbar on this opportune of days. But Harad would always remain and Harad would outlive them all.

Jenahda drew a jagged splinter which had been removed from the many pierced form of her now haggard employer. The room was empty of all but his shallow breathing and his already acrid stench. With the arrogance of not even one last glance to check for a possible interruption, she jammed the keen shard forcefully through Korre's ear and drove whatever served him for a brain within his skull to ebb undeniably out of the other ear canal. The desecrated remnants of the dying man shook once with a wrenching convulsion, and then lay still. One arm dropped like lead to seek the floor, but never reached it.

Jenah never reached the bedroom of Salukhatar. Pharak got to her first. And as he there beheld the prone form of his father, he reached for her hand. And held her. Tight.

"Your father died in his sleep," she rehearsed their alibi, dropping the dangerous sliver of wood silently upon the bed covers, that she could envelop her lover in her arms. "It is the best he could have hoped for." She smiled.

“It is the best we could all hope for,” the second son agreed. “All shall soon learn that was what occurred, and that accursed Gondor is answerable.” His tone caused the murderess to wonder if he had deliberately handed her the opportunity, to ‘do the Shadow’s work’ .. He drew her to him, like a comfort. Like she was all that he had now; the beginnings of a new generation. Their children … their legacy …


As the two began to meld a mutual dream of what they might conspire, together, unseen in his room Salukhatar Halsad sat up poker straight upon his bed; as though he was somehow aware that he had just inherited his Household, and all the likelihood that he too should be murdered for the sake of it. A legacy indeed.

Candles wept a coat of smoky wax to glaze the large, wooden, scarred chandelier. Was a time as the goliath wheel had adorned a ship's helm but, much like the now scant residents who yet bore the name of legacy, now it hung long in idle suspension, in the dining room. Chains strung from the ceiling tethered it in a cumbersome bridle, that it should not fall and yet, whenever the great double doors were pummelled open or slammed shut by a pining wind, the entire frame was roused and swung against it's bonds. As yet the dancing heads of flame had persevered, if but to veil some raucous cast below in an umbrageous light. Salukhatar Halsad ignored the melted tears that dove into his already congealed dinner. Food had never truly been the motive behind his location, but the chamber was most suited and equipped to cater for so many guests at once. And the convention of wine being served had been met with a round of approval.

The alcohol had flavoured conversation as much as it had utterly usurped the lavish meals. Several of the house's servants stood, with hands clasped dolefully behind their backs, at irregular intervals along the wall. As though they were an ill-planned decoration. All focused their eyes downcast, in equal measures of terror at the cutlery which had been brandished rather indiscriminately, and a wretched hunger for the wasted feast that festered within reach. They could expect, none of them, anything but scraps tonight. And those they would have to fight off the dogs in order to secure.

Pharak swirled the heavy quota of cardinal merlot that still weighted his chipped goblet, in one hand. There was scarce an implement within the household entire which had not been hurled or flung at some point; chipped and marked and dented were all treasures which had lost their lustre despite all the wretches expected to dust and polish. The younger gentleman of Umbar eyed his elder brother silently, all the while burying his own frustration and condemnation in a shallow grave of discontent. Their father, Captain Korre Halsad had been dead less than a moon's passage through the starless sky, and it was rather customary to make celebration that the heir and prince of their empire had only this week rose from his sick bed. Still it sat uneasy with Pharak that in that one, meagre week, Salukhatar had seen fit to all but ravage all sources of the substenance left to them.

Wine and wenches and food and gambling ... all had sunk teeth into the fortunes they were left to forge survival from. What was further gauling was that such behaviour demonstrated no sign of abating any time soon. Given the destruction of their father and, worse still, the loss of even that humble flotilla of ships which had surmised their whole livelihood, there were decisions that required now be made.

Umbar, as a city, did not grow or else produce much of great worth. It was renowned for slaving and pillaging and piracy. The most popular of guilds and professions, outside of their notorious navy, were thieves and assassins. So with the harbour despoiled, a vast percentage of their ships and their boldest sailors suddenly erased, the city was culled from much if not all of those trade-worthy goods which were typically imported (by force more frequently than by wiles and cunning) from afar.

In short, soon the depleted coffers of House Halsad would see them ranked parsimonious. All efforts that Pharak himself had undertaken to master this affliction, his brother, his elder, and now his apparent master was prepared to utterly overlook.

In the traditional fashion of their forefathers, the younger sibling gave rise to his feet, clambered upon the immense deck of the dining/meeting table, and dashed his wine to the cracked floor with dramatic flourish. This was the only recognised means of gaining attention, although the customs of greed and ego frequently saw more than one man taking turn at once. Pharak had to throw a pair of drunken houseguests from the impromptu stage before he obtained his brother's interest, and a crow of displeasure and protest from the more wine-fuelled party-goers.
Still he was not dissuaded. It was difficult to survive an upbringing in Umbar without learning to fight for your own corner. To allow that Pharak was the milder of the two tempers his mother had spawned, was not to assume that he was meek in any understanding of that word. Even pitted against such a riotous audience, he found their ear.

"I have scored a vessel for our interests," he pronounced, calmly editing all details that might take from the significant point. As anticipated, all those not yet passed from conscious state about the room surrendered to startled intrigue. "Though our armada entire now lies in splinters and ash about the dock, and our allies have been severed from their usual delivery, rendered almost to the point of ruin by delays that now impede their efforts to restock, and to replace all that was lost .."

"What manner of a vessel do you mean ?" the cries began, as variants upon the same question were conceived about every corner of the table. Interest had waned from the man's showcasing his own vainglorious achievement, back to just what their own mercenary judgement craved. After Pharak had made several ineffective efforts to appease them, Salukhatar found firm feet to the ground and propelled his half-filled dinner plate across the room.

It struck a most unfortunate slave point-blank in his face, and dripped in cloying chunks of luke-warm gravy down the miserable man's contuised features. The appalled cries of his fellows raged against the act until the stoney gaze of their oppugnant master stilled all rebellion. Save one.
Jenahda strode boldly from her assigned place along the far wall, and gathered the smeared plate from where it still clattered by the victim's feet. Employing her eager tongue, she licked her fellow thrall's face clean as all gathered found themselves rooted in shock. Somewhat unashamedly, she cast half-focused eye aside to Pharak and raised a lone dark brow, her unspoken dare. The room froze to awkwardly exchange looks and a fidgeting around the table. Done, Jenahda sashayed over toward Salukhatar, threw her head back and one hip wide, as she asked

"Second helpings be my lord's desire ?" she made question, and her master's lips part in confusion. But the first son of Korre Halsad was not lost for words, for long. Snatching the plate out of the undaunted woman's hands, he threw it against the doors, and spat the words

"Go fetch" out of one corner of his twisted smile.

Jenahda spun devilishly unaffected by the scornful gesture, and all present swallowed mirth and bit upon their lower lips. Pharak swiftly retrieved all the audience he might, as his secret lover flaunted her disregard for humbled rank. Jenahda might believe that playing up to Salukhatar was her best means of staying out of trouble. But even her efforts to play docile wore a clear undercurrent of courage. The woman was utterly beyond all hope of proper submission. As her own father had lamented, as he bade Pharak take her into servile employ.

"A caravel fit for some two dozen men at the least .. " Pharak resumed, to invoke a distraction.

"We shall take it !" Salukhatar broadcasted his intention, without pause for thought of further intervention. "We shall with all speed to Gondor and abuse her most accursed shore ! We shall plunder her resources to replace those of ours they took, and more besides ! We shall .."

"You have not the men to achieve such a feat," interjected his brother. "And furthermore the enemy shall be on their guard .."

"They shall be fat upon their victory with no suspicion that we could come back at them with such a speed and .."

"You can not take the entire Gondorian navy down to depths with one ship," Pharak mentioned, teetering about the brink of patience. "If you will but wait and think .."

"I am Captain Salukhatar Halsad" was the best retort that man might offer. "Dare you to speak to me of what I can not do with a ship full of willing men ?! You who never gave command in your entire life !!"


The guests still able threw their glance from one brother to the other, as the verbal riposte supplanted all else in the room. Even Jenahda's attempt to lead all slaves toward departure almost garnered no regard. Almost.

"Need I make you now a moving target, girl ?" the Captain demanded, aflush with colour and indignity for all that recently had harassed him.

"A slave that does not hear her master's schemes can not have such important secrets forcibly extracted of her by a rival to this house," Pharak put in, sensibly. "Think not that fear would keep a dog from barking, if enough pressure were applied. This I know, O Captain. For I sneak and slip and steal. All these things come under the wise category of discretion. And it is that underdog I propose we manipulate, brother."

Salukhatar narrowed his eyes and considered reason beyond all the alcohol he had seen him rise toward fervour. Pharak stood apparently divorced from emotion, though he subtly acknowledged the howl of the wind catch the great doors to closed behind his secret lover. And behind all those thralls to this house, already more scared to refuse her than to risk the wrath of their volatile master.

"Speak sense or refrain from interrupting sense" groaned Salukhatar, wearily. "We are in need. But you have secured the method by which we can take what we are more than owed. I know ships, and I know sailing. I am grateful if your little contacts have garnered us this vessel, but do not imagine for one moment brother that you are qualified to make grand suggestions where it comes to slavery and conquest. I am expert on a far more grand scale than you shall ever .."


"The caravel was succoured by way of Lord Khabudolgur," Pharak's confession had the required, awed, effect. He glanced about the well-soused collective of sailors that propped themselves up about the table of his own illustrious ancestors.

"How did .. ?" one bewildered witness formed the words of intrigue.

"He is the ambassador to Mordor, to the shadow," Pharak reminded all present, and basked in the ensuing hushed silence which spoke volumes of their understanding. "He has the ways and means."

"And the price to be paid ?" Salukhatar was not quite so inebrieted to forget the peril of such an alliance. "The old man is of the ancient cults, the arcane and the spectral arts of the Black Numernoreans .. "

"We have come to an accordance as to what he shall expect in return," Pharak scratched his beard, nervous all of a sudden. His bravado shot through by a storm of reality, as though a man who makes valiant speech, and only after realises that they are undressed for the occasion. The old mystic was a dark force to be reckoned with, and no mistake.

"I have secured items for the temple before this day, and always fulfilled both task and mood of the High Priest," Pharak privately bolstered his haphazard career in abduction and infiltration as though he were any more than a pawn in the vast game of far more powerful players. "shall take the ship that Lord Khabudolgar supplies, with a crew of his choosing, and I shall, as ever, satisfy this direct order from the Shadow."



A curtain of disquiet descended to smother all vouting boast and assumption. The vast gloom that belched from the smogs of Mordor was as reverent as it was feared.

"What can He expect .. that you, you out of us all can possibly accomplish ?" Salukhatar masked his concern for his young brother behind a cold wall of sneering disdain. Another family custom. "If it takes a ship ... you are no sailor, brother .."

Pharak swallowed and raised his chin, in vain mimicry of his late father, who had ever inspired a sense of dignity in the young man. "If it is believed I can achieve this, who am I to argue ?" he shrugged, acting as nonchalant. "You must remain here meantime, Salukhatar. Conspire with our friends and allies. Rebuild and recover what you can while I ... "

"What errand does he ask ?!" the corsair made repeated effort to gain intel; grasping at the table which shook violently from the impact. "I would know .."

"You are not in any position to insist," Pharak retorted, matter of fact. "It is a mission upon a need to know basis. And your only role at all is to remove yourself from all thought of it save that I plan to bring honour and great recognition to this house. It shall be worth it. So long as you are not hasty in answering the insult done unto our people all entire. I am asking you to put your house in order, brother, for it is your house now."

The two brothers strove about an uneasy relationship the length of this latest steely-eyed stare.

"You would rush ill-equipped into the thick of enemy territory, dressed for war, but undermanned, with vain hope of ransacking a few neighbourhoods ?" Pharak dark eyes compelled his only brother, his elder, and apparently his master, to realise the folly of such a reactionary risk. "I can tell you only that I shall instead be complicent in levelling a nation," he concluded, grave but determined. "Mordor does not require a man renowned of sailing for this particular venture. Mordor requires a man experienced in guile. A man who shall not be immediately recognised for the legend that you are already, in your brief age, become .." he added compliment to sweeten his brother's clear disappointment.

"Well, you have placed us all in peril now, by merely undertaking promise to that ... to the Shadow," the Captain resolved, albeit reluctantly, to let be what must be. "If you fail ..."

"I shall not fail," was the promise spoke.

@Rillewen


A harpy wind shook the twisted iron railing with unseen arms as though ghouls struggled to escape from that encircling ‘cage’. Streaks of lightning slashed like long-pitched spears down through the canvas of dark night, and the stars cowered behind clouds which throbbed like indigo bruises in the sky. The House of Halsad did not shy away from meeting such a downpour. Rather it held up it’s strangely uneven balance of storeys, with windows that chattered like teeth in their frames. And a draught that chased under closed doors, whipping up the unswept dirt into wild new designs across the cracked marble floors. Water churned a violent channel along the ancient guttering, at every junction like a river thrashing to break free of it’s banks. Still the black stone shadow, slick from the storm, held it’s ground while the weather besieged Corsairs’ Cove.

Within the bowels of the antiquated dwelling, a woman was sat in a high-backed chair, roasting her bare feet before the open blaze. The shrill cries of the weather’s tumult and the responding groans of her domain carried all about her, as one hand idly lifted and dropped a tower of gold coins from and to the painted table top. When the howl of the beasts rose up as an almighty chorus from the grounds, Jenahda closed her eyes and smiled, sidling her head as though the cacophony was a pleasant musical performance. And then in the same moment that the wind dropped, like a concrete curtain, the brute animals took up a different clamour. Stiffening where she sat, the Haradran tested her toes against the floor, and then rose to her feet. She did not get so far as the window even, before a shuddering thud punched through the double doors downstairs. A moment passed in shock and contemplation, before hope carried her to the top of the bifurcated staircase.


What a homecoming it was, when the wind nigh threw aside the gate which ought to have held all strangers out. The house recognised it’s own. For here he had been born, and grown. Even if he were not the same to look upon now as the him who had left some years before. One hand rose up to cast the front doors aside in their turn, and against all reason of the locks and bolts that hung there, this barrier too parted, so that he might proceed.

Three arched entrance ways stood open at either side of his passage through the vestibule. And though a flock of unseen faces swathed by claret cloaks soon spilt through these portals, to find what had blown in, not a one brought the curved sword they had thrust forth .. not close enough to injure the devastated stranger in their midst. A one who could compel the beasts who stood as defence to this hall. A hooded figure in his own self, who simply raised an arm slowly on either side of him, like wings. Neither hand was elevated above the natural fall of his elbows, and both hands were lain flat, as though there were more than air to rest on. Even as the House Guard froze, as a one, the jackals similarly surged into the interior, in unison. Passing each beneath the flattened and extended hands of the Master. Come home at last.


Jenahda swooped down the staircase like a massive bird of prey, as though sheer want delivered her into the arms of he who met her at it’s foot. And there, she found him to be changed and herself unable to tear her gaze away. Then they two met with a kiss that made the host uncomfortable to witness, still their private army were professionals and did not fall to remark. So the brute pack of prairie dogs set about a new verse to contest the weather’s pandemonium outside. And as the great doors to the ancient House of Halsad were locked back to a close, a new storm, a new wind of change surveyed the interior, mentally preparing to shake up the City of Spires.

"I have been tested," Pharak explained, and at the same time did not at all.

"You tell me yours," his wife replied, taking up his arm and weaving it around her own. "I shall tell mine."



*Edited for imgur icon amendment.

@Rillewen


The room was thick with their presence, the crimson cowls failing to utterly conceal the great wad of muscle which stood, poised, to act upon her any word. As silent as the cold stone walls, but as evident as the vast coils of a garnet-gilded dragon, curled cumbersomely within halls not quite vast enough to hold it. The small army were hers, were inescapable, plugging up any observable exit. But it was not her small host that the woman required escape from. It was not that same armed swarm which made the woman dangerous. The mind set behind Jenahda’s dark eyes, that was the greater threat. And in this hour it sought out an answer to an unexpected demand. To a question which might just change everything.

“Keket” Jenahda did not even let Tannabette finish or justify her ask. The named son glanced up, with a grim amusement reflecting in obsidian eyes, and awaited to hear what he would be allowed to do to the lady of the house. His anticipation was interrupted at his mother’s subtle nod, and by the two cloaked men who came at him, one each to an arm, and bore him wordlessly down to his knees. His younger, strongest brother rose up to his feet and started forward, even as their mother raised a hand to halt him. The eldest of her sons yawned meanwhile, without the manners to raise up his hand, or otherwise try to conceal his boredom. “I shall see it done myself,” Jenahda recalled all of the attention she could summon.


“No. I.” the staccato but still somehow imperious tone of the 'official' Lady Halsad robbed the other woman of her any chance to change the course of their agreed outcome. “If that is all ?” The question suggested that it had better be all. Tannabette had got her way and was now duly satisfied. The cold aristocratic bearing of a Black Numenorean heritage had not been dampened by the generations, though the jewels which adorned both her throat and gaunt skeletal fingers were by now lacking in lustre, and the rich dark gown which seemed to cocoon the noblewoman in a jaded spider’s web of night did nothing to diminish the dark circles that door-matted her eerie light grey eyes. Without waiting to care if any answer might be forthcoming, she swept in a silent half orbit and ascended back up heights of the great staircase. Each echoing step like a slow, stately applause.

To say the room released a breath at her haughty departure was an understatement. And then as though an enchantment had lifted, the three men moved from where they had been frozen. Matsu toward a seat, where he lounged now that it was safe to do so. Uhta, toward the foot of the steps, where his grandmother had just departed. And Keket, slowly, steadily, reclaiming his feet to hold him upright. His mother made motions to meet him, one arm extended as she approached.


The blow delivered the man properly to the ground, with a strength that belied the spidery source of his assault. Keket found the floor his focus for a moment. But no hand even sought to clear the blood which had crept out of the corner of his mouth. A calm tongue slithered out to taste the iron tang as though it were a treat.

“So that went well,” Matsu remarked, his brown eyes scanning all at hand, with a focus which suggested he was far more intrigued than his tone was letting on, about what might come next. One hand meanwhile caught at the sharp toothed strung around his throat on a thong, and drew it back and forth along it’s tether lazily. “It is not too late to serve up the witch herself ..”


Uhta drummed his fingers over the base staircase rail. “You have some plan,” Dark button eyes focused on his mother, and observing her still form where she had struck hard at her middle child, the younger now offered his hand to lead Jenahda toward a recline. Tipping Matsu off his chair, his brother brandished the new vacancy for their parent, unconcerned. And when the eldest brother roused the rubied hilt of a curved blade out of it’s sheath, he only thought better of planting it inside his brother’s broad neck, at a single sharp glance from Jenahda. Scowling Matsu put the weapon away, and kicked at dust which was miring the stone floor.

“Concern yourself not with technicalities,” The hand which found and cradled Uhta’s massive jaw was far more tender than that which she had recently demonstrated. Jenahda ignored the expectant expression about Keket’s face as he was encouraged by a guard’s foot not to even try again to rise. “Your brother has brought this upon himself,” she decided aloud. And proceeded to lay whispers about the hidden ear of her closest, cloaked, sentry.


A small frown meanwhile conquered the round face which countless tattoos had done wonders to brutalise over the years. Still Uhta’s expression gave no sign of agreement, for all that he did not move against the matriach’s decree. Of the three, he had ever been the most loyal and devout to her workings. It was by contrast, something of a contest between his brothers, which of them was more difficult for their parent to control.

“Have him made ready, for when the Lady Tannabette returns with want to depart,” Jenahda then openly bade her flock of armed assistants. Keket did not offer her the pleasure of raising face to showcase a devastated countenance. For his mother’s surely did not look to be troubled at all by the turn of events. His brothers, spared the same sentence which he had just been handed, shared a glance as though they entertained some fleeting thought to find support or solace in one another. But this was not a house that bred sentimentality. Nor second thoughts.


If it had, then Keket would spend his next fateful moments debating whether he had been wise to steal the family’s readied tribute for the temple. The man, Khalsim, had given him much to think about, for his trouble. And it had all seemed to be worth the younger’s while. But now .. would he even have the opportunity to make something out of what he’d learned ?

Not if his mother had her way. Learn his lesson ? He was learning all manner of things this day. Foremost at this moment was that it was wrong to even underestimate his grandmother .. For Tannabette forcing Jenahda to choose one of her three sons to serve up instead of the sacrifice he had liberated ? That had been unexpected. As for his mother herself .. Keket could not hold out to the same hope as Uhta that Jenahda had some plan already in plot. Neither could he disregard the slightest thought of such a dilemma, not as easily as Matsu apparently had managed to.

Best the middle son start thinking of a way out of this himself .. but was there time enough ? It was difficult to not become sidetracked by all of the persons he would now have to see ‘learn lessons’ for their treacherous part in this whole proceeding. Later .. that could come later. He had to first ensure that he would have a later.

@Rillewen

Slow-paced came the visceral-drenched convoy. And their steady passage was not burdened by any guilt for their errand, nor from dread at what they had endured. The stately procession was a purposeful allowing for all to observe that the House of Halsad had paid it’s price. Pride sat in each set of unblinking eyes, as their uniform of bare feet stained the cobbled streets in a slowly fading erubescence. Down the twisted spine of the hill’s pathway did they descend, through the city of spires and all the way back to the mansion, they bore the veiled litter of Lady Tannabette.

It was a good ten minutes before Jenahda found the inclination to greet what had been set down in what might now be assumed ‘her’ hallway. For surely the grand Lady of the House, if it had indeed been her person, still live, within the veiled litter, would have disembarked her ride once set down within her own walls. The fact that she had not, left her daughter-in-law to approach, only once she had readied the due anticipation, and come to investigate. The Blood Guard knelt in an awed boundary about their ‘delivery’ and watched in silence as the Haradan approached with all the curiosity of a child receiving a ‘gift’.


She had expected perhaps the bones of her mother-in-law, or those of Keket. What she found instead, propped up by a stack of cushions, was a live (though hardly hale) Khabudolgar, the Blood Priest himself. A none too pleased expression resting on his wizened countenance.
“You might think to improve some upon the courtesies afforded your most esteemed guest,” the elderly man chastised her, in lieu of a less uncivil greeting.

A lift of Jenahda’s chin and the woman had turned from this uncouth offering, without giving him the satisfaction of begging for some explanation. Wordless, she turned and made her way to the Great Hall. An order spoke in her native tongue, en route, saw the Guardsmen take up the usurped litter and see their guest be brought too, in her wake. If they had been forced to wait for the doddering old mystic to walk that far without aid, a new dawn might have arrived sooner.


Khabudolgar had not been seen outside of the temple now for a semi-centennial. He knew where his influence, his power, was the strongest, and in any other case would have demanded that the Blood Guard bring his audience to him, to fall before his feet and crave the merest scrap of attention which he might choose to endow upon them.

But the Blood Guard were a gift granted unto the Shadow, from one of their most potent allies. And although Mwaneru Nahuut Chief of the Jackals lived out in the jungles of Harad, his daughter, Jenahda had long considered herself to stand his representative in Umbar. In this hour she presented, in one of Lady Tannabette's most ostentatious gowns, so that the successor’s intention was made clear. Without remark, the elderly man extended a withered hand, and was carefully extracted from his mobile seat by the cloaked Guards. Their strength and subservience both saw him deposited upon a second seat, this time at the head of the grand table.


His clatter of one set of curling, yellowed fingernails managed a disquieting drumroll, impatient against the table, to encourage the woman to select her seat in turn. Which she did, facing her guest from the furthest away opposite end of the table, where many a challenge had played out over who would be best heard in their demands. Silence reigned though for a time thenafter, as each arrogance at hand awaited for the other to address them. In the end, it was the Black Numenorean who broke the ice, endowed as many of his people were, with an inescapable delight in hearing his own voice.

"You would be seen as the head of this once affluent house," he told her what he imagined that she sought to embody. And it was both a compliment and a challenge, as they both knew full well, the only reason Jenahda could ever be considered as such, was because her predecessor's blood and entrails currently wet the floor of his place of work. They'd both known that would be the only acceptable outcome, as soon as Tannabette had turned up with a try to offer her grandson as tribute. Jenahda's son .. Theirs was not a relationship which showcased affection, but still the many perilous implications had certainly caught the cleric’s attention.


"You look yourself an advocate for an extensive lifespan,," she observed, acknowledged and even emphasised his advanced age. Though for all it’s weaknesses rather than it’s worth. "You look not any sort of enduring existence though, which folk should yearn for themselves," she smiled. Showing all her teeth. Doubting even as she did so that he even had all of his own. Half had no doubt been plucked direct out of the mouths of the poor .. or others past the means of objecting. The woman unhooked a wine glass from about her belt, and one of her cloaked guard duly moved to fill it with refreshment.

"Few of our kind enjoy the sort of enduring existence which I am afforded," Khabudolgar admitted, without any shame over his progressing infirmity. "Most come to an end so prematurely," he reported, unperturbed by the part all here knew he played in that eventuality.


"My husband shall be aggrieved by the loss of his mother," Jenahda supposed, clearly bored of discussing her unwanted guest any longer. Idling her goblet in hand, the scarlet juice within swooshed, like a sea in storm.

"Perhaps if he had returned in fair time, and with any proof of achieving his missive, he would never have known the cause to," the priest did not shirk from laying blame as he saw fit. Without compromising his claim over the deed itself. "It is of that subject that I would have us converse," the ancient admitted, eventually, what his audience had long since assumed. He was here .. because he wanted something. Because he had just managed what she'd wanted and was loath to not demand a cost for the service. No priest wished to imagine that their act of retribution, for heresy, had been but an excuse for the political shifting of power in a local noble house. But here sat Jenahda, assuming the role of her recently expired mother in law. Since her coming here, since her marriage to Pharak, the 'second son' of House Halsad, first her father in law and then her brother in law had come to an untimely end. The blood priest dealt in death, but he was not sat in the company of an amateur here.


"The Lady Tannabette was the last true blood of Numenorean descent within your dynasty," Khabudolgar began, the real negotiation. And his concern encouraged a derisive snort from the unaffected Haradan. "Her successor might have thoughts to all she might do to secure the Temple's opinion of what remains of House Halsad," the Priest furthered on then. Making his desire for some debt which he imagined was yet to be paid. The Shadow did not exist to do Jenahda's dirty work for her. Even if the greatest physical force at the Temple's command came directly from the Haradan's father. A fact which had been enough to bring him to her table in person. A power vacuum was being fought over the wide expanse of polished wood. As was customary. In a city where politicians rose and fell (often literally) in the space of a single meal.

"The House of Halsad observe that the Temple owes much to the support of it’s Haradan element. From the blood and sweat of my ancestors who once toiled to erect your little .. " The woman gyrated her free hand on it’s wrist as she sought to think on the most appropriate description. “Tower ?” she queried rather than agreed. “To the blood cloaked acolytes who carried you this day, the length of a trek that your ancient legs could not bear you.” Jenahda did not blink as she met her guest's arrogance and matched it. She signalled for the entire guard to depart from the room. A single hand gesture, and the man was abandoned to only her company. The studded wooden doors closed with finality, like a nail driven into a man's coffin. “If my father were to ever imagine you do not value his support ..?”


"If your father were to ever imagine you have usurped the true motive of his support ..” To his credit, and uncounted years of experience, the blood priest did not exhibit any sign of discomfort, even as he almost outright accused the woman of treachery against her own. Not those she had wed unto, but those she had been born unto. The once pure-blood colony of Umbar had long since intermingled with it’s neighbours, much as the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor had with their own. It was a necessary component to conquering any nation. To ensure the defeated were as invested in your future, by making it the future of their mutual offspring. Harad was certainly a vast enough expanse to wash over the entire West, if her various peoples could ever agree for long enough to forget their more local differences. The Shadow had done that, raising Umbar as an example of a mutual goal, in the face of a mutual enemy. The Shadow was more than a concept, or a choice, in the grand scheme of things. It was holding a patchwork of peoples together, so that they stopped turning on one another in an endless dispute over boundaries and bounty. "Which is why it troubles me to note the whisper of doubts, come from a Haradan source, within our city walls.” He planted his seed, and was not forced to wait to watch it grow.

“You would dare to insinuate a weakness in those who veil your dying breath ?” Jenahda rose to her feet, forgetting any notion of even feigned manners. “Loyalty and might are the cornerstones of ..”


"I would see the nagging evidence of doubt desist," Khabudolgar folded his hands in front of him. The stretched skin of his fingers hiding almost nothing of the bone, as though he were an animated corpse. Still, his hostess could not fail to note, the man looked as frail as the faith on which his life depended. The same faith her father and her husband championed. And neither of they two were here. As usual she would have to take matters into her own hands.

"Name your doubt," she dared him. “And you will not be troubled over it thenafter.” If the old fool was senile enough to outright criticise his own guard detail .. he would not be troubled by even the bother of breathing, before a minute or two could bear witness to such sedition.



Khabudolgar did not waste time on further theatrics, that might risk his own wellbeing for every moment that his hostess believed she was being insulted. He named the Lady Lominzil Hazadazra, a nagging thorn of some Haradan isle who had beguiled a noble sealord of Umbar and, unlike Jenahda, continued in the after to impair her partner's fervour for the Shadow. That this deviant element had been allowed to eat away at a committed man's resolve, without repercussion, despoiling his opportunities to produce a male heir, and deigning to diminish his loyalty to all the Shadow influenced, .. had plagued the Blood Priest for more years than he could count. But to cut out such a pestilence without damaging the entire House .. was a delicate affair. If it could be managed as an act indisputable, say, as the will of the Shadow rather than clearly his servants ... yes that would be a goal worth risking. And Jenahda's true people had long known an enmity to those Lominzil had sprung from. An enmity from long disputed borders and bounties in lands far from Umbar. This was just the sort of deed a woman of her talents could accomplish, for the Temple, in return for what the Shadow had just accomplished for her own personal ambition.

His errand accomplished, Khabudolgar did not loiter overlong enough for his accomplice to recall how much she despised his presence in her house. And it was now .. HER house. The Temple's decision to remove Lady Tannabette had been a very sage move toward a far surer bet, for their own interests. For it was Jenahda’s father who supplied the Blood Guard acolytes. And she may think that she had won the day, having seen an end to one foe and the freedom to extinguish a second, with no price to pay for it. But even now the bloodied battered mess that the Blood guard had left of Keket was crawling home, a wrench to wedge within the House of Halsad. Khabuldogar had not allowed Jenahda's middle son to grasp onto his miserable life, not out of mercy. No. The priest might be old but he was wily. And he would ever have even his allies forced to watch their back from those who would see their deeds answered for.

Such was the Umbar way

Ercassie wrote: ↑Wed Sep 17, 2025 6:28 pm Khabudolgar named the Lady Lôminzil Hazadazra, a nagging thorn of some Haradan isle who had beguiled a noble sealord of Umbar and, unlike Jenahda, continued in the after to impair her partner's fervour for the Shadow. That this deviant element had been allowed to eat away at a committed man's resolve, without repercussion, despoiling his opportunities to produce a male heir, and deigning to diminish his loyalty to all the Shadow influenced, .. had plagued the Blood Priest for more years than he could count. But to cut out such a pestilence without damaging the entire House .. was a delicate affair. If it could be managed as an act indisputable, say, as the will of the Shadow rather than clearly his servants ... yes that would be a goal worth risking. And Jenahda's true people had long known an enmity to those Lôminzil had sprung from. An enmity from long disputed borders and bounties in lands far from Umbar. This was just the sort of deed a woman of her talents could accomplish, for the Temple, in return for what the Shadow had just accomplished for her own personal ambition.

It began just like any other day. There was no cause to think there might be anything out of the ordinary. Breakfast was served on the patio beside the pool, a place favored by the lady of the house. Her husband had already gone to the shipyard, because he was expecting a ship to return, and he needed to oversee the unloading of goods, and all those details. That was common, as the Hazadazra family owned a number of ships which made regular trips to import and export goods. This left the ladies of the house to begin their day together, as they usually did.

But today, Lôminzil eyed her plate without eating much, having only slightly picked at it to begin with, but now she was not even willing to nibble at anything, not even the fruit, which was her favorite things.

Ava looked up, halfway through her own breakfast, and frowned to see her mother not eating. She tilted her head in puzzlement. "Ammê?" She asked, questioning this oddity. "Do you not like the food?"

Lômi managed a little smile. "I am not very hungry," She admitted, then cleared her throat, wincing as she discovered that was more painful for her throat.

"Are you alright?" The child questioned in concern, putting down the date she had been about to eat.

Seeing that Ava had seen the wince, she added, "Actually, my throat is feeling a little sore, and I've got a bit of a stomachache. And, I suppose my mouth is a bit sensitive, too."

"You were alright yesterday." Ava frowned. "Should I go and get Eithon?" She asked, referring to one of the slaves owned by their family, an old man who had been healer from Gondor before being captured and sold. He had become a family physician for the Hazadazra family, ever since he was procured by Ava's late grandfather, years ago.

"Oh, it is surely nothing," Lômi sought to assure her, unwilling to trouble the elderly healer without cause. "I probably just caught some mild illness. I will be over it in a day or two, no doubt. Eat your breakfast, and do not worry about me." She paused briefly before adding, as a slight change of topic, "We shall practice with swords today, and after, we can take a swim to cool off." She smiled, knowing that both of them would be drenched in sweat before they'd finished their training session, which was to be expected in the hot, Harad sun. After swimming for a little while, Ava would spend the rest of the morning, and then the early afternoon, studying a variety of other subjects, like history, mathematics, language, and so forth. Such was their usual routine, so there was no reason to think the day would go any differently. Yet.

Ava nodded eagerly, accepting her mother's word for it, and smiled at the plan. Blades were her favorite sort of weapon to train with, and she loved swimming! Even though she could swim every day, it was always nice to jump into the water just after an intense training session.

"I.. will be right back." Lômi stated as she raised up from her seat, and hurried for the nearest lavatory with urgency. When she returned a little bit later, the woman was slightly pale, but she said nothing about what had occurred, so not to alarm her daughter. But she was rather alarmed, herself.

Ava was just finishing her breakfast. She paused as she tried to determine whether her mother looked too ill to be out of bed, or not. But before she could ask her again if she was alright, Lômi spoke up.

"Ava, please go and get our swords, and I will meet you in the garden courtyard."

Ava frowned slightly, unwilling to leave her mother's side while she looked unwell. "We have slaves we could send, instead." She pointed out what seemed quite logical to her.

Lômi frowned and shot a disapproving look at her daughter. "You do as I told you, Avalêazar Hazadazra." She instructed sternly. She did not have to tell her what the girl already knew. But she also tried to understand how confusing it must be for her, when her mother tried to teach her one way to think, and everyone else in the city did the opposite. Even Ava's father wasn't entirely on board with Lômi's ways. Yet.

"Yes, Ammê." Ava dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed. She hadn't meant it as her mother must have thought. She had only wished to avoid leaving her side... but she realized how she had sounded, talking as if the slaves were nothing, and should be ordered around just because they could. She felt guilty for bringing disappointment to her mother, who she knew was opposed to that way of life.

After Ava had run off to get their practice weapons, Lômi sank onto a lounge chair with her arms wrapped around her middle, wincing slightly in pain. She waited a moment for the stomach pains to pass, or to at least fade somewhat, then she slowly got up and went to meet Ava in the garden.

---

"You need to angle your sword a little more downward, so that when you block my sword, the blade will simply slide off that way, rather than toward your hand." Lômi corrected her daughter, trying to ignore her own discomfort. She gave her a moment to make the requested adjustment, then nodded in approval, while holding back a little wince as she felt another unusual pain in her stomach. They continued to get steadily worse, and she could not think of what would be causing them. But, not wishing to worry Ava, she tried to hide it and went on with her usual activities, as if nothing was wrong. The day had only just begun, after all. "Good." She nodded in approval as she noted the correction in her weapon. "Now come at me again, and remember to keep your footing like I told you."

Steel clashed against steel, the sound ringing through the garden courtyard, with the soft bubbling of a fountain playing in the background. Mother and daughter were just beginning their daily sparring. Normally, they would end up traveling all around the fountain in the center, sometimes making their way up or down the flower-lined path that led to the garden, and all over the place.

Normally, Lômi would hold back her own skill just enough that Ava would not feel overwhelmed, yet still gave her daughter a bit of a challenge in trying to keep up with her. In fact, Lômi was rather pleased with her progress, though her training was far from being complete. Had they been back home... well, in Lôminzil's home... the twelve-year-old would have been training consistently with many others, of multiple ages and skill levels, just as Lômi had as a child. But given that she was the only person around who was qualified to offer such training, and there weren't really any other children around whom she would trust to let her daughter around, she did what she could. Because, although she was raising Ava in a land foreign to her own, she would not break the tradition of her people.

Today, however, she did not have to hold back against Ava. Today, her stomach continued to bother her, getting increasingly worse to the point that, after about half an hour, she found it increasingly more difficult to even keep up with Ava, and her mouth felt so uncomfortably sore that it was distracting, and her throat was burning with pain, making it difficult to even swallow. Lômi began to raise her sword to swing again, but then instead, she ended up doubled over in obvious pain, and gasped as she leaned against the nearby pillar to avoid actually falling down.

Ava stopped short, blinking in surprise at this sight. "Ammê?" She stood frozen in spot, unsure what was happening, and frightened to see her mother behaving as if she were in great pain.

Lômi, with great effort, managed to give her a reassuring smile and forced herself to straighten up slightly. "I am.. alright," She sought to keep Ava from worrying, although there was a strangeness to her voice that she could not explain. The moment she tried to leave the support of the pillar, however, she cried out and collapsed to the ground, sword clattering beside her as she dropped it. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would shut out the pain, and tried taking slow breaths, which sounded quite raspy, and she ended up coughing as if she needed to clear something out of her throat.

Ava dropped her own sword and rushed to her side. "Ammê! What is it?" She asked, panicked at the sight of her mother looking so ill.

Lômi could only shake her head, unsure how to answer that. Her mouth and tongue felt... weird. Painful. Her coughing turned to retching a little, and to the shock and horror of both mother and daughter, a splatter of blood hit the pathway beneath her.

Ava's eyes widened at this, and she stepped back in alarm. Hastily, she glanced around for someone to help, feeling panicked at whatever was happening to her mother.

At the far end of the path, a slave woman was sweeping the pathway, oblivious to any of this.

"You, slave!" The girl yelled at her. "Get over here! Can you not see that my mother needs help?!" The girl demanded, while frantically motioning the woman to come to them.

The slave woman looked startled as she turned, then hastily rested her broom against the wall and hastened toward them.

"Avalêazar..." Lômi wiped a smear of blood from her lips as she looked up at her daughter with disapproval. Her tongue and mouth hurt, and it felt difficult to maneuver her tongue around the name that it knew so well, yet she still managed to inflect a scolding tone into that one word. The woman shook her head slowly at her daughter as she swallowed painfully. "You do not.. speak to the staff.. like that, and I expect you.. to apologize." She admonished in a soft, yet scratchy voice. "I will not tolerate such behavior from you.. and you know that."

"Ammê, she's only a slave." Ava reminded her in a frantic tone, as if her mother would have forgotten that the woman was 'only a slave'.

As if she could have forgotten. After all the years Lômi had spent trying to convince her husband to free the people in his employ, to make them paid servants, rather than slaves. So far, she had only managed to succeed in convincing him that kindness was better than cruelty when it came to the way one treated their slaves. "She is a person, who deserves to be treated with kindness.. in fact, especially because she is a slave." Lômi reminded her, as the woman was hurrying toward them. "If you have not learned that lesson by now.." She was interrupted by another spasm of pain in her stomach, and began to cough and gag until she threw up. Blood.

Ava could do nothing but watch in horror. She heard her mother's words, but it was as if she was hearing it in a dream. A terrible dream that she could not wake from.

Meanwhile, the slave woman froze briefly, just as shocked as Ava, at the sight of all that blood. "Oh my.." She gasped softly with a hand coming up over her own lips, but she recovered somewhat after a second, and kneeled next to Lômi. She looked a bit shaken by the sight of the blood, but she gently held Lômi's hair back from her face. "What would you have me do, my lady?" She asked shakily.

"Help me.. sit up.. please." Lômi requested shakily. Without hesitation, the older woman helped the younger over to a nearby bench along the walkway, where Lômi remained doubled over, but at least she was off the ground. She managed a weak, shaky smile of thanks at the woman before looking back at her daughter with an expectant expression, arms wrapped around her middle, doubling over a bit in pain. "Ava.." She spoke softly in a 'reminding' sort of tone.

Ava was shaking slightly with panic as she tried to think of what to do, wringing her hands a bit as she tried to find something that she could do. She heard her mother faintly murmur her name, and she knew what she wanted from her, but it took her a moment to snap out of her dazedness. Lowering her hands, she took a shaky breath, swallowing down a little pride, and turned to the slave woman as she felt of Lômi's forehead to find out if she was feverish or anything. "I..I apologize." Ava mumbled. After a glance at her mother, who nodded approvingly, in a way that encouraged her to go on, Ava looked back at the woman and added, "I should not have spoken to you so rudely." She dropped her gaze, a little ashamed to have made her mother disappointed in her. And in a moment like this!

"No one can blame you for being frightened and panicked, dear." The older woman assured her in a surprisingly kind tone, reaching over to pat her shoulder. "It's alright, and thank you for the apology." She knew that most slave masters in this land would never dream of apologizing.

With a little sniffle, Ava sat beside her mother, feeling desperation clawing at her heart. "Ammê... I do not know what to do," She said shakily, then looked up at the slave woman pleadingly. "Please, please do something. Help her?" She begged, tears in her eyes.

The woman looked doubtfully at Lômi, uncertainty written all over her face as the woman continued clutching her stomach, her every breath raspy from her throat being so raw. She looked at Lôminzil with concern, looking rather frightened by this strange illness, herself. Looking at Lady Hazadazra, she recognized a look in her face that suggested she wanted the girl elsewhere. The servant turned to the young lady. "Why don't you run and find a healer, and I'll stay and take care of your mother?" She suggested, inwardly agreeing that it might be best for the child not to see any more of this.

Ava hesitated, considering arguing that she wanted to stay with her mother. But then she realized that she could run faster than this old woman. "Yes, I'll do that." She replied with a hasty nod. It sounded like a good plan. Any plan was better than no plan, right? She clasped her mother's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "It will be alright, Ammê." She tried to assure her. "We will find out what is wrong with you. You will get better." It wasn't clear if she was trying to reassure her mother, or to comfort herself. But whatever the case, she ran as fast as she could to find Eithon, clinging to that glimmer of hope.

---

"How long has it been since you ate?" Zôrrôth asked softly, frowning in concern. He held his wife's hand, sitting next to the bed where she lay. The healer had ordered that she stay in bed as much as possible.

"Nothing, since this morning." Her voice was raw and scratchy, from having coughed so much.

"You should try and get some of this soup down," Her husband suggested.

But Lômi shook her head, eyes closed as she refused the sustenance.

"You need to eat something, darling." He told her, but he set the bowl aside.

"Hurts.. to swallow." She explained quietly. "And, I don't want to..." She hesitated. He had helped her to the lavatory multiple times already, so he knew about the other issue. She didn't need to tell him that she didn't want to encourage more of that.

"Lômi," He began, but then stopped, dropping his head down with a little sigh. He took a moment to ponder the situation. "What have you eaten? Fruit?" He guessed, since he knew she was partial to fruit, and always had at least some sort of fruit with her breakfast.

Lômi managed a faint smile and shook her head. "No. I could only nibble at breakfast. My mouth hurt too much to eat, even then."

Zôrrôth frowned, trying to understand. If she had not eaten her breakfast, then when had she last eaten? "Then, what did you eat?" He wondered, trying to determine if she'd taken any sort of nutrition in, today.

"I.. am not sure what to call it. It was what you left on my nightstand." She answered before another spasm of pain assailed her stomach, making her curl up in the bed, holding her stomach. Her eyes squeezed shut as she groaned in pain. This was far worse than the labor pains she had endured giving birth to their daughter.

Zôrrôth watched helplessly as his wife suffered in obvious agony. He was worried, but also puzzled. "On the nightstand?" He asked, trying to make sense of that, for he couldn't place what she was referring to.

Lômi's breath shuddered as she tried to recover from the intense pain in her guts. Slowly, dark eyes, damp with involuntary tears, looked up to meet those of the man she loved. "You know," She murmured. "The nougat, or fudge, or whatever you call it." He often left little gifts like that for her. Tasty treats that he thought she might like, so that she awakened to find a thoughtful surprise awaiting her on a saucer, under a little glass dome. It had not seemed the least bit odd when she woke this morning to see another such delicious surprise, although that one had been slightly different from his usual gifts. Still, she had been intrigued by it and had found that it was quite delicious.

But Zôrrôth was troubled to hear this. "Lômi," He felt as if an icy claw gripped his heart. "I didn't leave you anything this morning." He informed her softly, eyes widening. "I was running late, and..." He shook his head, feeling a sort of terror that he had never known before, which rendered him unable to finish his thought as he stared at his wife in dismay.

This news sent alarm coursing through Lômi's heart as well. "If you did not leave it.." She widened her eyes as the implications settled in her mind.

Zôrrôth wrapped her hand in both of his, bringing it up against his forehead as he dipped his head down. "No..." He uttered the word softly, but it was filled with emotion.

Lômi took a shaky breath. "We are beset with enemies, all about us," She murmured. "But which one would have a reason to do a thing like this?"

"And, the ability," Zôrrôth mumbled, raising his head just enough to press his lips to her hand, then he straightened and looked at her. "We can figure those details out, later. Right now, we must find an antidote to this poison. Before..." Before it was too late, he couldn't bring himself to say, and instead, he swallowed.

Even as he trailed off from saying it, Lômi again doubled over on her side, curled into fetal position with her one arm wrapped around her stomach, the other gripping her husband's hand tightly. For a long moment, she panted in short, rapid breaths, until the wave of pain had passed. She let out a shaky breath as she looked up at him, eyes filled with pain and fear of whatever was happening. She had been suffering from the poison's effects for hours, without realizing it was poison. Their window of time, if there was one, was probably closed. Already, she knew that her body was damaged inside. She'd been vomiting blood frequently throughout the day, and she often had to rush to the lavatory for other business, which was also filled with blood. "I.. think it is.. already.. too late, Darling." She murmured, trembling slightly.

But Zôrrôth was not yet willing to accept it. He shook his head adamantly. "No.. don't say that." He gently brushed a section of her hair back behind her ear. "We'll get through this, you'll see." He tried to promise in a desperate voice.

Lômi smiled sadly at him. "Darling, I love you," She brought her free hand up to caress his face. "But.. I really do not believe I can recover from this." She added faintly.

"Please, don't.."

"Zôrrôth," She looked him in the eye with seriousness. "You know it, too." She said softly, regretfully.

"No." He insisted stubbornly, standing up. He went to the window and frowned out at the night, his hands clenched into fists. He would not accept it. "I'll seek out other healers. We'll find a cure, no matter how long it takes." He couldn't help but feel anger toward whoever had dared to do this to his wife.

Lômi waited patiently until he finished talking. "Zôr," She said in a hoarse whisper. "We need to talk.. about after.. I'm gone."

"No, we need to talk about how we're going to cure this," He began saying, but then she began gagging again. Zôrrôth hastened to her side again and grabbed the bucket, holding it for her as he watched, with heart-wrenching misery, while she vomited more blood into the bucket. Blood, and stomach acid. That meant.. her stomach was bleeding, didn't it? And bleeding a lot. He closed his eyes as if it would shut out the pain of seeing his wife suffer like this. Silently, he offered her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth when she was finished.

There was a moment of silence as Lômi looked at him, waiting for him to acknowledge the obvious. That she was obviously bleeding inside. She couldn't eat, and she could barely drink even water. She was coughing up blood from her throat, vomiting blood from her stomach, and passing blood from.. other areas as well. It seemed as if everything inside, from her mouth to the other end, was damaged, and it was only getting worse.

He avoided her gaze for a long moment. Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes.

Lômi rested her other hand upon both of his, so that husband and wife clasped both hands together between them. "Promise me something." She requested softly.

Something in the tone of her voice stopped him from further protest. He slowly turned toward her without meeting her gaze, though his own stomach seemed to clench up in anxiety and fear and premature grief. Because deep down, he realized that he was going to lose her. The poison was working quickly, destroying her insides. After a long moment, he lifted his eyes up to meet hers. "I would do anything for you, my dear." He assured her softly.

---

When Zôrrôth left the room, he was heavy of heart. He wanted to continue to deny what was happening, but it was impossible by now. She was suffering, dying slowly in terrible, prolonging agony. Still, unwilling to give up without trying whatever he could, Lord Hazadazra sent Eithon, the healer of Gondor, to tend to her and do whatever he could. Then, according to her wishes, he sent for their daughter with a message that her mother wished to tell her good night before she went to sleep. Then he slipped out into the night with an errand to accomplish.

---

The healer did all that he could for her. Zôrrôth brought another, local healer of Umbar in as well, to try her hand and see if she could do any better. But Lômi's condition continued to worsen through the night, and nothing seemed able to help her. By morning, there was no more question in Lôminzil's mind that she was going to die. She had never heard of a poison which achieved such terrible results in a victim, but something in her heart told her she would not be able to recover from this. Perhaps it was 'woman's intuition', or perhaps there was simply a certain sense that came over a person when death was upon them. She didn't know how she knew, but she felt certain of it, even if she had been trying to deny it so far. Realizing that she had been poisoned... well, that seemed to her to finalize it in her mind. She was going to die. It was only a matter of time. The only question really was, how long it would take before this poison claimed her life? And, how much more of this misery would she suffer before the end?

She still could not eat anything at breakfast time the following morning, and in fact, her mouth and throat were in terrible condition. Her gums, tongue, throat, and everywhere else inside her mouth was sore and bleeding. But Zôrrôth had fixed a cup of tea for her, and now it sat on the nightstand, steeping, and cooling enough for her to manage. "Are you sure about this?" He had to ask, his voice filled with sorrow and apprehension.

"We have been through this," She reminded him in a scratchy whisper, which was all she could manage now, the words difficult to manage with her tongue and lips so damaged, but she somehow did it, even if the words were not as clear and precise as she had used to speak them. "Would you have me keep suffering.. for who knows how long, so that you can hold onto me that much longer?" She coughed weakly. "Would you watch as I waste away in misery, and my pain grows worse day by day?" She did not want to go through this argument again. "If a horse had broken its leg, would you not-"

"I know." He interrupted softly, looking away. His heart was breaking, but he knew she had a point. She was in terrible pain, and it was clear to him by now that the healers had no hope of healing her. There was no way of knowing how much longer this would drag out, either. There were evidently only two choices; a slow, agonizing death, which seemed to involve her organs being destroyed from the inside, causing her tremendous pain and distress, preventing her from eating, which meant she would waste away.. not to mention the terror of having to live through such an ordeal.. until her eventual death. Or a swifter, painless death in her sleep, administered out of mercy from a loved one. He hated to be put in such a position. But he had promised her that if it became clear that there was no hope.. he would help her to pass in a more peaceful manner. That he would ensure that her death was gentle, rather than what her unknown enemy had intended. Wordlessly, Zôrrôth helped her to sip her tea.

She could hardly keep it down, but she managed to swallow most of the cup, tiny sips at a time. She wasn't sure how much of it she threw back up, but she offered a tiny, weak smile of gratitude to her husband. "Thank you." She murmured as he helped her lay back on the pillows. "Take comfort in that we can say goodbye before I am unable to speak anymore." She told him, trying to find some positive to this whole thing.

Unable to speak, himself, at the moment, due to the lump in his throat, Zôrrôth nodded as he set the cup aside, then gently caressed the side of her face. He drew a shaky breath and forced a little smile. "I love you, Lómënsil Tôdaphêl," He whispered, using her given name, from before she had come to Umbar as his wife. They had adapted her name to its Adunaic equivalent, because he had feared that their neighbors and peers would have entirely flipped if they had known that her original name was in the elven high tongue, Quenya. That he, a lord of Umbar, would use her elvish name, was meaningful to her.

Lômi smiled faintly. "Lómënsil Hazadazra, you mean." She corrected him softly, squeezing his hand lightly. "I love you, too, Zôrrôth." She answered sleepily. Her eyelids were growing heavy as the tea made her sleepy. "One more promise?" She asked softly.

Zôrrôth smiled sadly. "What is it?"

"Never let Ava know.. about this." She requested softly, a look of motherly concern in her eyes. She did not know how their daughter might feel about it, and she would not want her to feel any sort of bitterness toward her father because he had done as Lômi had begged of him.

"Of course." Zôrrôth was relieved that was her request, for he had already had the same thought. "No one besides you and I will ever know." He promised her softly. This was a secret their daughter did not need to know about. "As far the rest of the world is concerned, it was the enemy's poison which claimed your life. As far as I am concerned, as well." He added. Because if it had not been for that... she would have lived for many more years.

Lômi nodded sleepily and tried to smile at him as her eyes drifted closed. "Good. Take care of her, darling." She had already said her goodbyes to Ava the night before, and she was glad, because she would not want her daughter to see her in her worsened state. The girl could hold onto her memory of how Lômi had been before the poison. Not after.

Zôrrôth leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Sleep now, my beloved. May you find your way swiftly to... that other place you tell me of." He whispered in a whisper, his voice breaking with emotion. "One day, we shall meet again, there." He held her hand clasped between both of his, bowing his head over it with his forehead resting on their hands. Tears slid down his face, and gradually the rasping of her breath faded to silence. He wept quietly for a while, until eventually her lifeless hand began to grow cold. He straightened at last, laying her hand gently upon the covers so that both of her hands rested together on her middle. Then he wiped his eyes, poured out whatever was left of the tea, and left the room. He paused to speak to the first slave he encountered, asking that she please inform the healer that the Lady was no longer in need of his aid.

Next, he went to locate his daughter so he could break the grievous news to her, because that was not the sort of news you send by messenger. They were both going to have a difficult adjustment to make, without Lômi. As hard as it would be for him, he realized it would likely be harder for Ava, since mother and daughter had always been very close. And she was still a child, who would no longer have a mother. At least he and his daughter could comfort each other in this tragic time of grief. And after their grieving had been done... someone would pay for this, he vowed. He just had to figure out who.

@Rillewen


As the years passed, so did all semblance that the triplets looked remotely alike to one another. Some in Umbar supposed that Jenahda had lured more than one man between her thighs, whilst others imagined that the Haradan had outright stolen three unrelated babies from their cribs, and passed them off as her own, to fulfil her father’s demands for an heir, her husband’s expectations for an heir, her own need therefore, for an heir. Salukhatar had kicked enough unborn children out of the woman’s womb over the years, that perhaps Jenahda might have been forced to resort to who knew what sorts of measures. Of course, not a rightminded person in Umbar was fool enough to speak any such rumour in the presence of the ‘mother’ herself, of course. And any boy growing up in the playgrounds of the city needed little excuse to learn how to fight his fellows. As the years passed, most boys learned that to insult any one of the three ‘brothers’ was to insult all three, and that the state of outnumbered was not a pleasant place to find oneself.

Whilst her husband worked away, spreading the word of the Shadow over the sunlands, Jenahda had been condemned to the kitchens of the house. First to scour and scrub and slave. But even before she had seen the remaining oppressive Halsad patriachs removed from the face of Middle Earth, the woman had made clear that she as feeds the family .. controls the family. And Jenahda had been raised all too familiar with many exotic ‘flavours’ back home, which her son, Matsu was encouraged to go and harvest from his grandfather. As the eldest, as the heir, as the one who looked the most like anyone in Jenahda’s bloodline.


To venture into the kitchens of Halsad was tantamount to taking your life in your hands. And yet it was the most effective way to locate the woman of the house. Whether she was already there working, or she simply sensed and hastened thither, to punish a trespasser. Still Uhta’s great heft proved both that he was the most likely to earn a tasty reward from ‘mother’, and that her cooking had aided in his monumental bulk. On this day, he found neither the matriarch nor any readied meal to greet his intrusion. Though like the jackals that his grandfather favoured, the young man was a scavenger. And in the double bowled sink was an unwashed bowl of … something ..

A sturdy finger reached out, meaning to run it’s length along the remnants of his mother’s latest work. But even as the man wedged his tongue firmly in one corner of his mouth, eager to satisfy his endless appetite, .. a force he ought to have expected flew at him from behind, latching onto his back, with both legs coiled about his meaty waist, and two arms caught like a cobra about the thief’s wide neck.


With a cry, Uhta flung his mother off him, and turned to meet her, quickly come to her feet, eyes deep, and a knife which she flung at his all too evident target. It seared through his foot, but failed to pierce the stone floor so easily. And strong fingers plucked it from his flesh as though it were a splinter, before holding it out, handle first, toward his abuser.

“That is not for you,” Jenahda made as clear as she could manage. “Out !” she bade him, waving both arms, and the reclaimed knife, at him, until the huge man turned and sidled from her sights.



In the hall, Uhta sighed, to behold his eldest brother, Matsu, laid across a chaise with enough cushions to hide the small tears and bloodstains that it had obtained over the years. It is probably best not to spend any great amount of time wondering about those … Matsu was certainly unconcerned by the state of his seat, and far more engaged in entertaining himself with the pretty young girl who was sat up on her knees before him, catching grapes that he tossed with one limp hand, at her mouth.

“So .. there I was ..” the young man had draped himself in as many loose and easily removable clothes as he could stand in the heat. “Charged with herding this … enormous … mumak when ..”


“I thought it was a wild cat ?” Keket spoke up from where he idled about the bottom of the staircase, heaving abruptly on a leash with frequency enough to keep a small but brightly feathered bird from escaping his clutches. Uhta glanced from his one brother to the other, and found only a smile to offer for his part. He crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow in Matsu’s direction. “You’ve told this one before,” Keket continued to heckle his sibling, though whether he meant this story, or this girl .. it was unclear.

“Is that where you got the .. ?” the besotted young woman tossed her hair and tugged gently upon the oversized fang which Matsu wore on a thong around his neck. For just that very reason. And there was no way he was going to tell her that the tooth had been pulled out of his flesh, after a young wild cat tried to eat him .. his first time out in the jungle.


Whether it was the fact that both of his brothers were toying with something, and he had none for himself, or some leftover grumble about being chased out of his mother’s kitchen .. Uhta strode across the room and picked the adoring young woman up from behind, until both of her feet were peddling in the air. Matsu leapt up from his seat and story, but his protests fell on deaf ears as his youngest brother squeezed the life out of their guest, and then dropped her with a slap against the hard floor. Her eyes stared still up at the storyteller, although she would never hear another word he spoke

Liberating a rapier blade from where it hugged his hip, the wronged heir brandished it with menace at the grunt who had robbed him. The sharp blade came close to the enormous belly before it’s creator reached out, took the blade in both hands, and snapped in in two over one knee.


“THAT was my gift for graduating Aquil’s Academy !” Matsu complained, in utter disbelief. “That blade was .. irreplaceable ! Or .. wait .. do you require me to use smaller words ?”

“She was mine,” Uhta growled back, although honestly at this point, there was nothing left of the girl that either of them could wish for. “I brought her home. ME !” A fist thumped against the youngest brother’s own chest, to punctuate his point.


“Yeh ? Well which of the two of us cajoled her into taking a peace offering to that soft broad out in the sticks ? Who did she agree to do anything for ?!”

As Matsu continued to throw out questions, and Uhta nudged his head from one side to the other, in mocking humour, Keket looked up from where he had resorted to plucking his feathered not-friend. Without any hesitation, he loosed the leash, leaving the bird to hop and trip over the floor as the middle child dragged the now lifeless body of the girl away instead, and up the stairs, for his own entertainment.


It wasn’t until their mother came bellowing into the hall, about the squawking little avian she’d just tripped over, that the two squabbling brothers were forced to realise, they had no idea where their brother, or the body was now. And when they joined in a mutual complaint to hunt down Keket for his theft, Jenahda could not care less whether they found him.

The girl was dead, and by now she wouldn’t be the only one. No loose ends. Happy family at House Halsad.

@Ercassie
"Father, please." Ava begged, following him down the hallway. "I do not want to marry him. Why can't you find another plan?"

"Ava, we've been through this." Zorroth sighed as he paused, and drew his daughter into a side room so they could speak with more privacy. "I'm sorry, but you are the best weapon I have. No one would expect it, and it will give our family the appearance of remaining devout worshippers." He sighed as he looked at her upset face. "I know you don't like it, but your mother trained you to fight well, and this is your chance to avenge her."

Ava folded her arms and frowned at her father. "Mother would not want this." She insisted, her mind flashing back to the last conversation she'd had with her mother. "This is not what she trained me for. She-"

"She wanted you to be able to fight against the servants of the Enemy," Zorroth countered. "And what better use of those skills, than to take out His priest, and his closest living relative?"

"I'm not an assassin, Attô, and I do not want to kill anyone."

"Those who murdered your mother had no such qualms." Zorroth strode over to frown out of a window, his expression dark.

Ava closed her eyes briefly and drew a slow breath. She hated being reminded of her mother's death. It had been one of the worst days of her life. She made a face at the thought of the man to whom she'd been betrothed. "I do not want to marry Dôlgubên. He creeps me out, and I do not want to have to be his wife, and it is not fair that I do not even get a choice in this." She turned to him. "And I also do not want to have to kill him, or his uncle. Please, Attô.. change your plan. I am begging you!"

"Ava," Zorroth sighed as he turned to face his daughter, then crossed back over to put his hands on her shoulders. "It isn't right away. This betrothal will be helpful though, in getting you in the right position to do this task. When the time is right." He explained. "I know, he's an unpleasant man, and I am sorry that it means locking you into a marriage with such a man. But the end result.. will bring an end to the temple. Trust me, Ava, this will not only avenge your mother, but the entire city will benefit, too."

"How would the city benefit?" She frowned.

"Can you imagine what Umbar would be like, if there was no temple? No monthly sacrifices? No more worship of.. Him?" He paused. "That was your mother's dream. That was what she wanted; for this city change into what it should have been, before the Shadow's influence fell upon it."

Ava pulled away from him and turned her back, scowling. "This is not fair. Why can you not come up with a plan that does not force me to kill anyone? That brings about the peace Mother wanted, without me having to-"

"Have you got any ideas?" Zorroth interrupted. "Because if you have a better one, I'd be happy to hear it."

Ava paused and frowned. "Not.. right now." She admitted, mumbling.

He sighed. "Nor do I. Like I said... it isn't that I want you to marry that despicable man. It's simply the best way to get you close enough to.. accomplish what we need done." He went over and gently pulled her into a hug. "We'll keep trying to think of a better plan," He promised. "But in the meanwhile, your betrothal will remain, and in a few years' time... if we haven't come up with a better plan, we will proceed with this one." He informed her. "We have time to prepare."

Ava stared off at the wall, frowning. She did not like this plan one bit, but she was at a loss for any better one. But there was time, like he said. She desperately hoped that one, or both of them, would come up with a better plan, in the meanwhile.

"I love you, you know." He spoke softly. "You are the most precious thing in my life, and I would not ask this of you if I felt there was another way to accomplish this goal. It is more important than you and I."

Ava frowned at the floor. She wanted to sulk and be angry at him, but she found that more difficult, now. "I love you too, Attô." She answered quietly.

He kissed her forehead. "Everything will be fine, my dear." He paused, looking into her face. "I know it is dangerous, so I won't lie to you and say that it isn't. But, who knows. Maybe things are already changing for the better." He said, optimistically. "I heard a rumor yesterday, that the priest has not been seen in about a week. That the temple's doors have been closed, and no one can get in."

Ava blinked in surprise at that, for she hadn't heard anything about that. She didn't hear a lot of news, as they lived far from the actual city and she didn't go to the city much. "Really? So... does that mean the temple is closed? And I will not have to kill anyone?" She asked, hopeful, desperately hoping not to have to go through with her father's plan of revenge.

"I don't know." Zorroth answered thoughtfully. "I'm really not sure what it means. It's certainly very strange and mysterious, but.. who knows?" He frowned. "Perhaps I should investigate, to find out what it means. I've never heard of the temple doors being locked. And for him to neglect his.. priestly duties.." He frowned, trailing off as he took a moment to think about the possibilities of what that could mean. But then he recalled the lateness of the hour. "Well, in any case, it's very late, and I'm exhausted, as I did not get any sleep last night." He told her with a weary sigh.

Ava frowned as his words reminded her of the reason why he had skipped a night of sleep. "I worry about you, Attô, when you go out doing your nighttime.. vigilante things." She mentioned, turning to him with a little frown. "What would I do without you, Attô? What if you got caught one night, attacking one of those slave-masters, helping the slaves escape from them, and whatever else you do, in your little.. adventures? What if something happened to you?"

Zorroth smiled sympathetically at her. "One day, perhaps I won't have to go to such lengths to fight for their freedom. But until then... if I don't do it, who would?" He pointed out. "Someone has to fight for them, don't you agree?"

Ava shrugged and looked out of the window at the stars above. "I just want you to be safe, Attô." She answered. "I do not want to lose you, too."

"Don't worry, Ava." He gently turned her back toward him. "Nothing like that is going to happen. I'll be fine, for no one knows that it is me behind that mask. But let us both get some rest, now. We'll talk more in the morning, after your lessons."

Ava nodded, trying to let his reassurances convince her. "Alright. Good night, Attô." She hugged him, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Goodnight, dear daughter." He smiled a little sadly as he hugged her in return. He, too, hoped that perhaps the strange disappearance, and the locking of the doors, meant that he would not have to put his beloved daughter into an awful marriage with a despicable man. Putting her in such a dangerous position was not his preference, but he had yet to find a better idea.

Ava was even less happy about the arrangement with Dôlgubên, and the marriage that was meant to happen once she had reached an acceptable age for marrying. There was a knot of anxiety in her stomach about the whole thing, and she couldn't help feeling that she wasn't going to be able to fulfil her part of the plan, and that she would end up being the one killed, rather than her future husband. As she parted from her father and went to her bedroom, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that her life was spinning out of her own control, and that she would end up in a very bad predicament in the end.

She laid awake for a long while, thinking about the last time she had spoken with her mother. The day she'd died.

---

Ava stepped tentatively into the room, nervous about what to expect. Her mother lay in her bed, curled up slightly. As if her tummy hurt. She smiled weakly when she saw Ava enter, and motioned for her to come closer.

"Ammê," She whispered, kneeling by her bed. "Atto says you are very sick."

"Yes, my star." She reached out and gently clasped Ava's hand. "I'm dying." She explained softly.

Ava blinked and stared, tears welling up in her eyes. "No.. Ammê, why?"

Lomi squeezed her hand lightly. "An enemy has poisoned me. And there is no way of saving me." She explained.

Ava's tears began to spill over and she struggled to keep from sobbing as she leaned down to hug her mother.

Lomi wrapped her arms around her and held her for a moment, patting her back comfortingly. "Grieve for me after I am gone, Ava." She whispered. "I need to speak to you."

Ava drew in a shaky breath and wiped her eyes as well as she could, sniffling. "I am listening." She assured her, though her voice was shaky.

Lomi had to pause, cringing at another intense pain in her stomach. It was several seconds before it passed, and she was left gasping slightly from the pain. "I want to speak in my native language," She decided, switching to Quenya. "For I would not want you to forget the sound of it." What better way to have her daughter remember the language, than to use it for her final words to her?

Ava nodded slightly. Her mother had taught her the language, but she knew not to use it except in the privacy of their home.

"I want you to always remember the lessons I have tried to impart on you, *arimelda." She told her. "To always remember to show kindness to those who serve you. To treat them as you would like to be treated."

Ava swallowed, bowing her head as she recalled earlier in the day, when she had been rude to the slave woman. "I will." She promised softly.

Lomi continued, "I want you to always remember who our enemy is, and to remember why I have taught you to fight. To never let the darkness infect you, my child. You are growing up in a place where people hate that which is good, and embrace that which is evil. But I want you to know that you are not alone, for you have allies in distant lands, who also fight for the same cause as us."

"Who are they, Ammë?" Ava asked, sniffling.

Lomi gave a weak smile. "The Umbarians hate the men of Gondor, especially." She told her. "They have been at war with them for centuries. They stand against the evil one, against all odds. They are brave, and they do not worship him." She turned her head away as she began coughing.

Ava withdrew slightly, trying her best not to appear as horrified at the sight as she felt, as her mother coughed up blood, and kept coughing until she ended up throwing up into a bucket. Nothing but blood, it seemed. The sight was horrible. She tried very hard not to show how it affected her, however. "Gondor is a long way, though." She reminded her mother. "What do you mean for me to do, find a pen pal and write back and forth? Ask for them to come and... what?"

Lomi shook her head slightly, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. "I.. wish for you to.. learn all that you can," She explained. "From the servants we have here, who are of Gondor." She drew a shaky breath. "I will not be able to continue your education," She went on, regretful. "But perhaps, they can help you. To offer guidance, when you need it. To.. help you learn the things you need to know. To be mentors to you, so you can recognize what is right, and what is wrong. So you will not lose your way in this dark land." She took her daughter's hand again. "You have great potential, and I believe you could be the one to bring about the change that this place so desperately needs, arimelda. You could very well be the one to finally bring this corrupt city to the light. But you are still so young, and you need guidance," She looked sympathetically at her, feeling regretful that she could not be the one to offer that guidance. "I hope you will find the right people to help you. I have made a list of members of our staff whom I would recommend for this." She added, indicating a paper on her nightstand. "But whatever you do, no matter what, I want you to know that I love you more than anything."

Ava's tears returned and she felt a lump rise up in her throat. She blinked hastily, trying to send the tears away, but more came immediately to take their place. As they began to spill down her cheeks, she hugged her mother again. "I love you too, Ammë." She managed to say, though her voice was thick with emotion. "I.. I will try to make you proud of me." She promised in a whisper, before dissolving into quiet sobs.

Lomi rubbed her back and held her, comforting her for as long as she cried. Holding her daughter for one last time.

After a while, Ava sat up, rubbing her eyes, sniffling. "I will do as you ask, Ammë." She assured her. "But.. I.. wish you.. were not going to die." She looked as if she might cry again.

Lomi squeezed her hand. "No more of that, Ava." She gently chided. "Now is the time to say goodbye, for I will not be with you much longer. Let us not spend this time in tears and grieving, but in talking." She requested. "There will be time for tears, later."

Ava nodded, though it was difficult to put aside her grief. Instead, they spent the next few minutes talking together, and saying the most difficult of farewells. When Ava left the room, at last, she had gone straight to her own bedroom to finally unleash the tears. It was unclear to her when her mother would die, only that it was a certainty that it would be soon. So, when her father came to find her the next day to give her the news, she was not shocked, but greatly sorrowful. And yet, it was a small comfort to have been able to say goodbye to her, the previous night. That, at least, softened the blow. But it had been a great blow, nonetheless.

*dearest (Q)

---

Tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes as she remembered that final conversation with her mother. She turned over onto her side and tried to put it all from her mind, though it had been a few years now. She was troubled by her father's plan, and she wondered if her mother would have approved of how he planned to go about it. She suspected not. And she also suspected that her mother would have put her foot down about this betrothal thing, especially since Ava was so strongly opposed to the idea. But she had no say in any of this. The betrothal was made. Only her father could cancel it, or the groom, or his family. She found the idea of being married to that creep quite terrifying. The weight of her father's expectations was a difficult burden to bear, also.

With a sigh, Ava turned onto her other side and tried not to think about the possibility of running away. She couldn't let her father down, right? He was counting on her to bring down that cursed temple, and the evil man whom he believed was responsible for her mother's murder. And her mother was counting on her to somehow, bring about a change in this city, to put a stop to all the cruel ways, and open people's eyes to the ways of kindness. She had no idea how she could possible manage both of those, and not to let down either parent. There must be a way to achieve both of those goals, somehow. Right? But the question she struggled to find an answer to was; how?

She sighed and turned to her other side, trying to dispel all of these troublesome thoughts. Ava knew she would have to get up early, to begin her lessons. First, some weapons training, then some other things with various teachers for different academic subjects. She needed to sleep, she knew that. But it wasn't coming to her.

Just as she was starting to feel as if she might drift off, a noise from somewhere down the hall jolted her awake. The girl opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, trying to make sense of what that noise may have been. Had she imagined it? She listened hard, wondering if she was simply hearing slaves going about their nighttime cleaning routines. Then, suddenly, with a crash, her bedroom door was thrown open, and several people in long, red cloaks rushed in, grabbing hold of her. Pulling her out of bed, and out her bedroom.

And from that point on, her future, and her life, changed forever.

It had been a calculated risk, but he hoped that she had not died in her sleep. The dosage he had administered had been an estimation at best. And while the Lady Tannabette Halsad was a woman whom few in this world would miss, least of all her grandson, Keket had no desire to be found guilty of her murder. An idling ponder had of course considered framing his own mother for such a tempting deed, but that would rifle the delicate matter of her blood cloaked guard. There would be outcry from the Chief of the Jackals at any such arrest, which was no doubt the reason why his mother had been tolerated in her patient pressing about the noble house thus far. And even if the two vying matriachs were both removed of power with no war made, then the dynasty would fall unto the squabbles of Keket’s brothers. He had no doubt that their mutual father would never return from his ventures abroad after all. And while Matsu was the eldest, Uhta was the strongest. Unfortunately for them both, Keket was undoubtedly the smartest. If he did say so himself. And he invariably did.

So murdering his grandmother in her bed would do none of them any favour. But rendering the hawk-eyed nag more pliable .. less of an obstacle .. that would offer serious advantage. Not to mention well-owed vengeance. If there was no corpse, it could be counted no crime. And lobotomy was a subject that the young man had been obsessed with, ever since he first read about the practice.


While his brothers had been amusing themselves at playing pirate, swaggering about swabbed decks, and swinging swords about like fools, Keket had found far more intrigue in exploring what injuries came of high sea battles. Assuring that the existing doctor fell upon his own knife .. had been easy, with such sways and swells that featured out at sea. And raising hand and voice as the only man aboard willing to try and take his place .. had been tantamount to genius. Crew had lined up to allow him to slice open their sores ever since, to stitch the gaping skin and sever necrotic limbs .. the captain had even paid him for the privilege, oblivious to how keenly he had already emptied the pockets of his patients. A darn sight safer, even if no less bloody, way to gain wealth; both in coin and education.

The dwale had been easy to obtain, the instruments he had carried off, with confidence, from his last vessel, and never looked back. But the longer that Keket was at home then, the less he found that he wished to return to sea. If only home could be made more ‘comfortable’ … This very eve his grandmother had supped from her goblet at dinner, without the slightest comprehension of how keenly she would look to retire that eve, nor what would skulk into her bedchambers thenafter. If she woke before her young relation was finished ‘playing’, then he might be able to write it off as her rousing from a nightmare or the like.


But if it went as he hoped, then she would not rouse with any resemblance of her sense or mind, come the dawn. Her body would lurch about, like some heavy lump of meat, and her tongue would make sounds that never again would cut sharp words. She would be, for all forced to abide with her, as no further annoyance. Not to mention, her grandson had not been able to stop thinking about the plan, ever since he had conceived it. He had planned it to the point that he could not talk himself out of it now.

The cloaks were not permitted upstairs, and his brothers had been overbearing about their plans to go out and drink the city dry. His mother .. was about the kitchens, cooking up who knew what sort of malice. One by one the house slaves who had survived Lord Salukhatar had each been served up to the temple until there were only Jenahda's little clan left. The question was no longer when, but which of them would be sacrificed first ... Keket had decided to act first. Although he did not expect to find anyone else but his victim in her room, and in this he was mistaken. It was in the very moment that his fingers pushed one unblinking eyelid out of the way and he readied the pointed scalpel, ready to slip it inside the old woman’s orbital cavity .. when he heard a croaking rasp .. behind him ..


The curtains were drawn and no candles lit save the one that the intruder had brought in with him. So dim light veiled the dark shapes of shadows all about. And it took the Umbarian a moment, with the frustrated click of his tongue, to retreat from his goal and further explore. He first looked past what he mistook for a marbled column, but the stench betrayed it’s mortal makeup. Wary tread took narrowed eyes in closer for a better scrutiny of who else might be sneaking about the old lady’s room. Was Tannabette so loathsome that her grandson had uncovered an unlooked for rival ? Was he in an unexpected race of which man might assault her first ?

The truth became quite inescapable, as stood the other man. Hooked to the rafters by a hung noose coiled tight about his bearded throat, the stranger stood yet on the floor. A metal stake had been driven through each one of his feet, straight through to the wooden floorboards underneath, rooting him in place. His hands were tethered cruelly behind his back, and his mouth wrapped by a stained rag which might once have been silk. The notable bulging of the lolling head suggested that there was yet further stuffing jammed into the man’s maw, stifling his speech. An eerie creak was all that he managed, as Keket raised his candle, curious. Bloodied gashes despoiled the sweat-stained clothes, indicating a great many wounds inflicted, none of them fatal. Brown eyes swam, one blown into a sprouting haemorrhagic cloud, as the unhappy wretch seemed to try and indicate some plea for mercy ..


He really had no idea who he was dealing with here. The problem was, neither did Keket. And as keen as he might stand to not put himself out, for any other’s sake .. still there was a riddle here. And the younger man was nothing if not inquisitive. That same quality was what had led him down the path of surgery in the first place. To uncover, by means of peeling back and flensing away .. what truly was at the heart of a man ..

Lowering his light in one hand, Keket raised his scalpel in the other, inciting a hapless fluster of protest from the man who was in no position to otherwise defend himself. The ungrateful grandson glanced back over to where Tannabette was not likely to wake .. not yet .. and decided he could afford to chance it. His small blade slithered between the other’s pilose jaw and the damp rag which was suffocating his soul. It was the work of a moment for the stretch of fabric to separate, though a good deal of coughing and spluttering as the bound man spat out his gag, and various further bloodied slaver as well to freckle the floor.

“Tell me,” the young man bade him, with a seeming lidless stare at what he had discovered.

Khalsim took a moment to consider, not only what he'd witnessed of the young man's motive for the sleeper, but what might now be his last words if he erred. The corsair swallowed uncomfortably against the unforgiving grasp of the rope snaking about his neck, and trialled a deal.
“Let me loose and I shall tell you ... what she wished me to tell her ..,”

The great hall was unrecognisable, with not a single inch of the hard floor to be seen. Instead, a messy lawn of bodies, and spilled food, and a lot of littered crockery was breeding an increasing trip hazard for anyone who dared try to venture from their seat. There were as many bottles of wine being flung across the room by strong arms, as there were stamped into sharp, shimmering sawdust underfoot. One of the archaic tapestries had been ripped from the wall and was currently draped around a large man who was wearing a bonnet on his head, nothing on his behind, and was currently engaged in a tug of war with three smaller men, who all seemed intent in rendering him properly exposed. A second tapestry was in a heap to fuel the makeshift fire in the middle of the room. And a third wafted from its hangings, with fair apprehension to learn what it’s own fate would be in due course. No less than two men were in the process of being hauled up into the air, by ropes slung over the heavy wooden chandelier. The race ended when both vulnerable heads were dropped hard from the height to crack like broken eggs upon the devastated flagstones. The musicians were smart enough to keep themselves mobile, as they provided as much entertainment as target practice, as they did creating music.


The Corsair, Salukhatar sprawled in his massive chair, with one leg resting slovenly over one side arm, and the other laid out before him. A half emptied bottle seemed fixed in one dirty, bruised hand, as the other tapped his knee invitingly. As pies stuffed with some questionable meat flew at random intervals across the smoky den, like suicidal seagulls, the birthday boy saw beyond all the uproar and anarchy; the gift which his friend had brought him. And he sat up a little straighter in his seat.

---

Her pale eyes were fixed upon him, the apparent idol who slumped in his homely throne, as all about him the raucous celebration carried in it’s noise and revelry, as though such a sight ought to please him. He had clearly succumbed to near boredom some hours ago, but could hardly say so. This was for him, this was all for him. And the stink of the men who rolled off the tables, told anyone that they had been held up at sea for so long that they had been vomited up unto the city rather than simply disembarked from their craft. The slaves were going to have a mess to clean up in the morning ! Most had already fled for their lives rather than risk becoming embroiled in who knew what humiliation, or outright hostility, at the hands of the party goers. The bawdy singing and clatter that came of unrestrained inebriation echoed down every hall in the sizeable old stone house, where the unfortunate and afraid cowered and sheltered, as though the heir’s party was some cataclysmic storm.

There was not much to keep her skin from the leering eyes which turned, as she walked through the centre of the room. Khalsim nodded once, to his Captain, and then retreated back to the wall where he would not have to watch. As his sister gyrated her sweat-slicked curves in a tantalising tease all around the untamed burning décor which lit up new shapes to shadow all about the dark walls.


In the space of under a minute, Ehuret had drawn Salukhatar to the very edge of his seat, as though a flaming goddess had sprung from their blaze at his bidding. He’d seen his friend and first mate bring her in, of course, though he didn’t know from where and did not care. All songs were silenced, by sheer awe or else by a timely thrown fist until there was only the shiver of tiny silver bells which decorated one of her ankles, and one wrist. And as the woman climbed into his lap, the celebrated corsair spread a smile wide across his jaw and cradled her hips in both hands. She filled his eyes, his lap, and all that mattered to a man, so that it came close to a show for all to see.

Then Khalsim threw a knife fast at the staring minstrels, who took the hint and also took up their loud noise anew, so that the party resumed in earnest. Food iced over anything already strewn out like fallen snow upon a surface. A homeless man was brought in, helmeted, with hands tied behind his back. His steel-ed skull beaten like a bell all about the room, with people taking turns to bear the massive hammer, until dents caved in both metal and the bone beneath, and blood spilled down his helpless form until he floundered. Efforts to remove the head at its stalk and kick it about soon usurped all other forms of amusement for the general mass of folk. All around the birthday boy who no longer looked remotely bored at all, but might not have even noticed that anybody else was even there. Nobody else besides her.

A gift indeed. All his.

The night was dark as could be. The dark-clad, masked young woman crouched in the bushes along the arched walkway alongside the mansion. In the middle of the courtyard, the fountain quietly played and splashed into the pool around it. Even though she could not see it, she could hear it. She also could hear the soft whisper of sound, from folds of clothing brushing against itself, giving away the location of the guard just in front of her. His breathing was quiet, but he shifted in place, restless. A pebble tossed across the courtyard wasn’t sufficient to draw him away from his post, however. Moving slowly, the thief inched her way closer, taking extreme care not to accidentally step on any of the dried leaves scattered upon the decorative walkway, for fear that the crunch would alert the man to her presence.

She came up behind him without warning and left him lying crumpled on the ground before he even knew what had happened. His partner, however, whirled toward the sound as he heard his buddy hit the ground. A swift knee to the solar plexus prevented him from crying out and raising the alarm, but he drew a weapon despite his pain and breathlessness. The struggle lasted only a bit longer before she turned his own weapon against him, having managed to wrest it from him during the struggle.

After speaking a few softly whispered words in his ear, with the blade to his throat, she proceeded through the doorway with caution, leaving the two lying motionless on the ground. She entered the house through a side entry, which those two were meant to be guarding. She paused there, to change her shoes into soft, silk slippers meant for indoors, padded on the inside. She placed her outdoor shoes into her backpack.

Inside the mansion, there were a few candles lit at various intervals, enabling her to see where she was going without too much difficulty. Up the stairs, down another hallway, then she swiftly rolled herself underneath of a bench positioned at one end of the hall, with a pillar at one end, decorated beautifully with tiny tiles of various-colored stones, and a potted fig tree on the other. There, she waited while a guard paced the length of the hallway, and only when he had gone past did she emerge and hurry along down the hallway, her silk-slippered feet making no sound on the fancy tiled floor.

Cutting through one of the sitting rooms, she paused at the entrance to the hallway opposite of where she had come, and peered cautiously around the edge of the doorway. There was a guard patrolling there, she could hear the sound of boots steadily walking up and down. She would need to time this very carefully. She waited until the guard had reached the end of the patrol, closest to her, then turned to walk the length of the hall. Waited until he had gone a couple of paces, then began to follow him as closely as she dared, stepping as silent as a cat. After reaching the halfway point, she ducked into an adjoining hallway which led toward the guest bedrooms, another sitting room, and a large dining room. She pressed her back to the wall behind a an arched support beam, waiting with a pounding heart while the guard continued on the path, turned, and started back.

She expected to go on her way after the guard had passed her, but to her surprise, the guard stopped at the crossway, with a sort of hesitant sound to the boot steps. After a moment, the steps turned down the other hallway, in the same direction the thief had gone. What was the guard doing? The thief cautiously withdrew further behind the beam so that she would be out of sight. That wasn’t the assigned patrol route… then, to her further surprise, the guard swiftly came around the beam, weapon drawn. “Game’s up, thief. Surrender yourself!”

Blinking, the thief was a bit surprised to hear a woman’s voice, and a little smile curled on her lips. But as she raised her hands in apparent surrender, the guard failed to anticipate any resist. The intruder swiftly lashed out and caught the woman guard’s weapon hand, twisting it sharply so that she yelped and let go of the weapon. To her credit, the female guard didn’t let that deter her from switching to hand-to-hand fighting. The two women struggled for a few moments, until the guard was unable to evade a move that forced her into submission, and she could not find her way out of it. After a finishing move to ensure the guard would not be raising the alarm, the thief hastened along down the hallway, continuing along her way, leaving the young woman lying on the floor just like the others.

At the top of the grand staircase in the main entry, the thief looked around, wary. There would be guards posted at key intervals of this room. One at the foot of the stairs. One at the doorway. Another across the room at the other doorway, which lead toward another hallway. She eased down the stairs halfway, stopping at the landing, where she quietly climbed over the railing. As she balanced herself on the railing, she hesitated just before dropping to the tiled floor below, then tossed a nut in the opposite direction. The moment she had tossed it, she pushed off of the railing. Her silken slippers made her slip a little upon her landing, but she managed not to slap her hands down on the floor. Instead, landing in a crouch, she froze as she heard the guards speak.

“What was that?” The one by the stairs asked, frowning.

“What? I didn’t hear anything.”

“I think it was just the fireplace crackling.” the third suggested, but he sounded uncertain.

“No.. I don’t think so.” The stair guard shook his head and moved to investigate. “T’wasn’t no fire, I’m sure of that. And it was in the other direction.”

While he moved over to see what the noise had been, the thief had carefully eased her way through the archway to her left. There, she held her breath as she waited for the guards to give up their search. It actually took a disappointingly short amount of time before they resumed their posts, deciding that the noise had been nothing. The lighting was far too dim at this time of the night for them to see the dark figure who had dropped from the stairs and darted through the archway, and there were pillars blocking the view of her from the guard at the door.

From this new hallway, she proceeded through the mansion with caution, meticulously evading guards as she went, or drawing them away in similar fashion. Eventually, she made her way down another set of rougher clay stairs, painted yellow with little blue flowers, which led down to the lower levels. There were more guards down here, patrolling and moving around the various areas of the basement level. The thief was forced to deal with only one of these, however, for he was stationed at the end of the hallway she needed access to, unmoving from his post, while the rest she was able to avoid by darting behind a pillar, or ducking around a corner as they passed.

Once the troublesome guard was slumped on the floor, without having had a chance to make any cry of alarm, she set off down a darker, older hallway, which she knew lead toward the mansion’s treasury room. The walls were plastered with old, but beautiful tiles of various colored glass tiles, and the floors were carpeted with rich rugs of intricate designs, which made it easier to walk in silence. At the end of that hallway, a heavy wooden door blocked her progress. A small, slim tool appeared in her hand, pulled from a hidden spot up her sleeve. It took her several long moments to get the lock picked. A satisfyingly long amount of time, in fact, if one was thinking about how secure the lock should be for this room. At last, however, it clicked open. Smiling to herself, the young thief stepped into the room as she put her lockpick away.

Inside, the room was exquisite, filled with all manner of treasures. Jeweled weapons, chests and casks filled with jewels, gold, silver, pearls and such. On display tables all around the room, there were items of another kind of value; ancient vases and jewelry, and personal artifacts that could be dated back many generations, owned by this or that family member of the past. This one room, beautifully decorated, seemed to contain a large amount of the family’s wealth.

The thief’s eyes scanned the room, seeking one particular item that was her goal. Where was it? She checked in a few chests, peeked inside some vases, and finally, her gaze ventured to the far side of the room. There, at the top of a large safe, she spotted an elegant lantern, made of thin metal, with intricate designs punched into it to allow the light to show through in a beautiful pattern. The item she sought was balanced on the lantern’s top opening. Clever. With a little smirk, she started toward the safe.

“Halt!”

No sooner had she taken a few steps than a voice spoke out with harsh authority. Startled, the thief whirled around, finding a man there, scimitar drawn. His armor was more elaborate than the other guard’s, and he carried himself with an air of command. Behind him were several more armed guards, blocking the way out. The thief froze for a second, then darted toward the safe, leaped up and caught her first step on a large chest containing gold, which propelled her upward so that she landed nimbly on top of the tall safe. While she did this, the guard ordered his men to stop her, and the first two of them rushed into the vault. She snatched the prize from the top of the lamp, then leaped over those two men, flipping once through the air, to land lightly on the floor behind them. A swift leg sweep knocked the first to the ground, then she used the weapon taken from the female guard earlier, and jabbed it into the stomach of the next. By then, two other guards had made it in, followed by a fifth, along with the one who had ordered her to halt.

As the guards converged on her, she fought with all her ability, and came very near to slipping through their grasp, but the main guard was too skilled for her. She was hindered, too, because she was holding the delicate prize in one hand. And eventually, he pinned her down to the ground, with the tip of his sword pressing into her throat, just enough to let her know it was there. “Yield.” He ordered. “You’ve failed.”

Breathing hard, the thief stared defiantly up at him for a few seconds, attempting a few maneuvers to try and get unpinned, but the remaining guards now had her surrounded, their own weapons aimed at her as well. One of them took the prize from her hand, and she was helpless to stop him.

With a huff of frustration, she let her body relax as her head rested on the floor. “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me up, I yield.”

The guards lowered their weapons immediately and backed off, standing at attention in a circle around her and the captain.

The captain stood up and held out his hand to assist her to her feet, then smiled at her in muted satisfaction.

“One of these days, I’m going to defeat you, Ashar.” She declared, pulling down the mask which covered the lower half of her face.

“And it will be a proud day, My lady.” He responded with a smile. “But that day is not today.”

She regarded him for a moment with narrowed eyes, then motioned toward the item she had come so close to ‘stealing’ from her family’s vault, which was now held in the hand of one of the guards. “An egg? That was certainly an interesting challenge, I’ll give you that. And I nearly succeeded in slipping past you, too.”

“But not undetected.” He pointed out. “As I said.. you failed.”

“So did your guards.” She returned, raising an eyebrow. She motioned around herself, pointedly. “I should never have been able to get this far.”

“Quite right, my lady.”

“There are far too many gaps that I was able to slip through, which ought to be corrected immediately.” She added. “And I was forced to “kill” some of the guards. They are instructed to report to you in the morning for additional training.” She informed him.

“Very good. Will you take me through the grounds now, and show me where the security may be increased?” He requested.

With a nod, the young lady set off, backtracking her steps. Ashar spoke a word to one of the men and sent word around to the guards to resume their posts and switch back to real weapons, rather than the blunted ones they had been using for this drill. The vault was locked up, and the egg returned to the kitchen, while the lady and her chief of security walked together through the mansion.

“This was an enjoyable challenge,” Ava mentioned with a small grin. “I think we should do it at least once a month. I want the security so tight around here that I cannot break into my own estate.” She declared. “Also,” She added, with a glance at him. “I think we ought to increase the security around the outside perimeter. I don’t want to even be able to get past the outer walls. The rest of these guards should only be a backup, in the off chance that someone does manage to get past the outer perimeter.”

“It will be done, my lady.” He assured her, walking along beside her. "And, if this drill is to repeat with such frequency, then may I recommend you not warn the guards in advance, and vary up the time when it is to happen? So that they don't know when to expect it, and they will be always alert for it."

Ava nodded thoughtfully. "That is a good idea. And I would also like to issue orders that any potential intruders should not be killed, but merely apprehended, if caught." She gave a wry smile. "I would not like to be killed trying to test my own securities, after all."

"Indeed," Ashar agreed with a little amusement.

“Oh, another thing,” She turned to him. “I have a commendation for the female guard. Sidayn, isn’t she? Your daughter?” The man's daughter was a few years older than Ava, but she knew that Ashar had highly recommended her, and that the young woman had trained for years to be able to join Ava's security team. She was the first woman to have joined, but Ava had decided that from now on, she would welcome other female guards if they wished to join, and if their skills were satisfactory.

Ashar straightened just a tiny bit, smiling with a hint of pride. “Indeed, she is my daughter. What did she do?”

Ava smiled a tiny bit mischievously. “Perhaps I ought to let her tell you, when she comes for her extra training. She was another that I “killed”, regrettably.”

Ashar chuckled softly. “I have no doubt she fought well. But please, I would like to know what she has done.”

Ava described how the woman had seemed to almost sense her presence, or else she had heard something that made her suspicious. “I don’t know, myself. But she came to investigate, and she did catch me there. She came close to stopping me, in fact, but..” Shrugging, she let him deduce the rest. As with all the others, she had put the other woman into submission, then informed her that she was now “dead”, and that she must act as if she were, until further notice. Those who ‘died’ were not allowed to say anything to their fellow guards, to keep things as close to accurate as possible. "She did better at catching me than any of the men guards," She added with a little smile. As they retraced Ava’s steps throughout the grounds, they found each of the “slain” guards and passed on the notice that they may resume their posts.

“Alright, now I’ve told you all the weak spots that I found.” Ava said, turning to Ashar as she flopped down onto a cushioned seat nestled into a covered balcony, and tucked her feet under her. “Now, you tell me, how did you know when to find me in the vault?”

Ashar smiled and leaned his shoulder against a pillar. “Well, I was making my own rounds about the perimeter, when I came upon a pair of my men lying on the ground, as if dead... or unconscious. Of course, they could not tell me anything, as per the rules of this drill. But I deduced from it, that there was an intruder on the property. So, naturally, I gathered a few men and went first to check your quarters, to ensure your safety. Then I hastened to the vault, to check that all was secure, there. I hope you will be pleased that I left some men stationed around your room, in case of an attempt on you.”

Ava gave a nod to show her approval of these actions. “Good thinking.” She answered. After what had happened last year, she always felt anxious about the mansion being invaded again. After the events of a year ago, she had even chosen a new bedchamber in which to sleep, being located in another wing of the mansion. This one was easier to secure against intruders.

She leaned back against the throw pillows, thoughtful. “Ashar, I’ve been thinking about something.” She spoke in a quiet tone, confiding in him. He was one of the longest-standing employees of the estate, and one of the most trusted. He knew about practically everything that went on here. He had continued her training with fighting, after her mother died. She did not worry about speaking openly to him about this. “My father’s way of striking back at them.. it just isn’t enough. It isn’t working, and it isn’t hitting them hard enough.” She sighed. After his death, she had taken up the work of trying to avenge and rescue those who were being mistreated. She had tried to do it for a while, for him. And to keep the 'vigilante' alive for a while longer. So that people would not realize that, too, had been Zorroth.

“Your father.. had his own way of doing things,” Ashar nodded knowingly.

“I don’t want to keep up this.. vigilante thing.” Ava confessed. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

Ava straightened up. “You know how easily I sneaked in here, even with all the guards around… Even with them knowing I was going to try it.” She paused. “These other noblemen.. Gimlan, Kushah, Ghanhar.. Halsad.” The last brought almost a sneer to her face, and a hardened look to her eyes. “They have much wealth. If they lost a lot of that wealth… it could be crippling to them, financially. Right?” She smiled deviously.

“My lady.. Ava.” Ashar hesitated. “Would such a thing as I think you are suggesting not be more dangerous than what your father was doing? He only went about in disguise, defending the commoners and slaves from unjust treatment. You’re speaking of sneaking into the homes.. heavily guarded homes.. of some very powerful men of Umbar.”

“Yes.” Ava shrugged. “And very rich men, at that. I can do it. I’m good.. you know I am. And I’m always training to get better. It’ll work, I know it will. I can steal all their treasures and then they won’t have anything left to support the temple, or buy more slaves... and if they can’t buy new ones, maybe they’ll…”

“My lady.. you are hardly more than child..” He countered, with concern evident in his voice. “And after what happened, last year…”

Ava frowned at that. “I’m sixteen, Ashar. I am not a child.”

He bowed his head in apology. “Forgive me. I only meant.. you are quite young. I know you are not my daughter, but I have served your father, and his father before him, for many years. I would advise that you do not attempt such a risky venture. If you are caught..” He hesitated. “You know what would happen to you… And it is not only you who would suffer for it, I might add.” He expressed his own concern, worry evident in his eyes.

Ava paused to consider that, then stood up and came to stand in front of him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Ashar. After what happened last year, I intend to be very careful not to be caught. I’ll train to become very good at it. That’s part of why I wanted to do this drill tonight. It’s two-fold, actually. It helps me to sharpen my skills, so that I can prepare for my plan.. and it sharpens the security of my own home, against.. a similar invasion.”

Ashar sighed and gave a little nod. “Well, then." He didn't like it, but he saw that she was determined, and so he was resigned to help her to become the best she could be. Does that mean you will also be reporting for training in the morning?” He asked with a wry smile.

Ava blinked, then laughed. “Yes. I think I will. I hadn’t thought of it before, but that is an excellent idea. And don’t worry, I’m not about to start this plan right away.” She added, as an afterthought. “I’m going to train very hard, and make sure I really can pull it off. Only then, I’ll attempt one of the lesser houses.” That should be an easy enough challenge to start with. “And once I’m sure that I’m ready,” She raised her chin as if daring him to disagree, “I’m going to rob the Halsads.”

Ashar did not look very enthused about that, but he did not argue. It would be best to try and talk her out of it in another way, at another time. He knew that her mind was made up right now, and to argue with the girl would only make her more determined. “Then, you had best get some rest.” He informed her with a little bow. “Sleep well, my lady. And I will see you bright and early for training.”

Ava nodded and started off down the corridor toward her quarters, then paused at the doorway. “Ashar,” She said, turning slowly back to him. “It has been over a year now since my father’s murder. Four, since my mother’s." She said softly. "I have not forgotten, nor will I ever forget that.” She looked at him seriously for a moment. “But my father’s way is not mine. I am not a killer, nor do I want to be. Fight, yes. Avenge, certainly. But not kill, or that makes me the same as them. Does it not?”

“As you say, my lady.” Ashar nodded slowly.

“So, I must find my own way to strike at them. And this is my way. To strike them in such a way that they will truly feel it, and suffer for it." For these people would certainly suffer more of a blow from being robbed than most other things she could do to them. "And in doing this, perhaps it will help others who would otherwise have been harmed.” She shrugged. “I may find another way later, but for now, that is my plan.”

“I will help you in any way that I can, my lady.” Ashar assured her. “To be sure that you are ready, when the time comes.”

“Good.” She smiled a little tightly. “I do not wish to end up like either of my parents, but I cannot do nothing against those who are responsible for their deaths. So, it is a risk I must take.” She bit her lip. “Of course, to the outside, I must appear as if I entirely support those whom I hate.” She closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath. “It is.. not easy.” She muttered.

“You must be strong, Lady Ava.” He spoke softly, sympathetically. “But that begins with getting proper rest.”

Nodding, Ava started down the hallway toward her new bedchamber. “Good night, Ashar.” She called back. She passed through the guards stations outside her chambers, and went to her room to get some sleep. Tomorrow she would begin training to begin her new plan, which she hoped would lead toward finally achieving her revenge.

---

@Arnyn
A hooked claw, wrapped in cloth, caught at the top of the wall, making only a muted noise as it struck against the stones. Below, three dark-clad figures huddled close together, holding a whispered debate. "Let me go first," Ava suggested softly, turning to the two rangers. They had trekked through the dark terrain for a couple of hours, and now they were finally here. But now was when the real danger could potentially begin. She had no idea if her home was even safe to enter.

Gwestion, however, frowned at the thought. If she climbed over first... if she was leading them into a trap, she could easily have some people waiting on the other side, to overpower the brothers the moment they, too, climbed over. But then, he realized, it hardly made a difference, did it? If she went first, second, or third, she could still have people waiting on the other side. On the other hand, he considered the other possibility. That she might be being truthful. That her estate could have been overrun with her enemies. If she went first, she could be harmed before the brothers could come to her aid. "No, I think one of us ought to go first," He whispered back, shaking his head slightly.

Ava blinked and looked at him a long moment, as the three crouched together in the treeline bushes. But they couldn't take a long time to discuss this. She had already tossed the claw, and if there was a guard patrolling nearby, they might have heard it. "Go, then." She agreed. "Then me, and Gladhron last. And remember... if any of my men catch us, they should have orders not to kill any intruders." She did not want the rangers to end up killing any of her guards, thinking they must kill or be killed.

With a glance to the elder brother, she saw him nod in agreement with this plan. He didn't mind letting Gwestion take the lead, here, so he could keep watch for threats once he got inside the wall, while Gladhron could watch for any approaching threats on this side.

With that decided, Gwestion also nodded before silently hauling himself up the rope, peering cautiously over the wall, once he had reached the top. The waxing moonlight revealed a pair of patrolling guards, strolling on the ground along the wall's perimeter, so he hastily ducked back down out of sight and held himself in position until the guards had passed. Once all was clear, he climbed the rest of the way onto the walltop and lay as flat as he could there, while Ava climbed up smoothly and gracefully.

"Come on," Ava encouraged the ranger, and wasted no time in dropping down to the ground below, then hastened to take shelter in the shadows of some bushes a few yards from the wall.

Gwestion hesitated, torn between sticking with her, or waiting on his brother. Deciding that Gladhron could manage without him, he hastily chose the former. The wall seemed, to him, a bit high to just jump down, but he did it. He landed a bit more heavily than Ava had done, but he was unhurt. He hurried after her, realizing this was the closest place where they could hide from any other patrols which might come along. As he ducked down into the shadows, pulling his cloak around him, Gwestion looked back toward the wall, wondering if Gladhron would make it over the wall before another patrol came along.

@Rillewen
Remus hated the quiet nights. Not because they were dangerous (those were the good ones) but because quiet nights made Shirin bored, and bored Shirin had a habit of poking at him.

They paced the inner perimeter along the wall, boots soundless on the packed earth. Moonlight washed the gardens in pale silver, catching on stone and leaf and the occasional polished edge of steel. The estate slept, but Remus never trusted sleep. Ashar had trained that out of him personally.

Shirin walked a half-step ahead, as always. Long stride, shoulders loose, spear resting against her shoulder like an extension of her spine. Her raven-black hair was loose, just as he preferred it. Loose and playful, getting in his face when she turned too fast...

“Your eyes are wandering,” she said without looking at him.

“They always wander,” Remus replied with a half grin. “You’re just a nice target for them.”

She snorted. “That tone will earn you a bruise.”

“Worth it,” he said. It usually was. But the words half-covered a muted sound in the night, making Remus wonder whether he had imagined it, right as they rounded the corner near the southern wall. One of the sections Ava obsessed over. Extra patrols. Extra drills. Extra lectures about complacency delivered with a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Remus scanned the shadows automatically.

Something was wrong.

Not obvious wrong. Not alarms-wrong. Just… a shape where there shouldn’t be one? The bushes near the wall looked different than they had their previous round. That, combined with the sound ealier, removed all hesitation. Better to be too careful than too careless. Remus caught up to Shirin and touched her shoulder.

Shirin slowed, for that touch upon her shoulder was a silent signal between them. Intruders. Maybe. Yet she did not want to alert any possible intruders that they could be onto them. “What?” she mouthed, knowing better than to speak aloud, or even murmur.

“Bushes,” Remus mouthed back, pointing the way while hiding hid hand from that vantage point.

Shirin tilted her head, listening as they continued on for a few more yards. For a moment there was only the fountain far off, and the wind teasing the leaves. Then: a faint scuff. Fabric, not leather. Shirin’s mouth curved, sharp and pleased. Remus couldn't help his own slight smirk in response. For if Shirin was pleased, that boded well for after patrol duty. Shirin was cold out on the estate. But she was always warm in his bed, whenever she deigned to entertain him.

They split without another word. Shirin drifted right, spear angled low. Remus went left, hand settling on the hilt of his blade. No rush. No noise. Ava’s rules echoed in his head: Let them think they’re unseen.

He slipped behind a marble planter and waited.

A shadow shifted.

Then another.

Two figures crouched low next to the bushes near the wall. One smaller, coiled like a cat. The other broader, moving with the careful restraint of someone trained not to break twigs or necks unless necessary. Remus’ pulse kicked up. Not amateurs. And two of them. Not their Lady, then?

He glanced across the garden.

Shirin caught his eye and raised one brow. On three.

He nodded.

One.

Two—

Shirin moved first anyway. Typical.

She surged from cover, spear snapping forward, not to strike, but to block retreat. At the same instant, Remus lunged in from the opposite side, blade flashing to catch moonlight as he brought it up under the broader intruder’s arm, shifting his stance to keep control without cutting skin. Ava’s standing orders rang loud and clear: Apprehend. Do not kill.

“Don’t move,” Remus said pleasantly. “You’re already losing.”

@Arnyn
Ava watched the guards, curious what they would do. Whether they would pass on by, or if they had noticed anything. The moon, only a couple of days from being full, offered enough light for her to see some things. Like the fact that it was a man and a woman, patrolling the grounds. One carried a spear, and she had a supicion she knew who that was, but she wasn't yet certain. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out more details, enough to distinguish which guards these were. For she knew each of those who worked in her estate, well enough to know their names. She trained alongside them. They guarded her home. They were familiar to her. There had to be some level of trust there, and therefore she had to know them well enough to know if she could entrust them with the security of her estate.

On the walltop, Gladhron had reached the top, but saw the guards, and lowered himself down so that he wasn't too noticeable. But he watched, his head barely peeking over the top of the wall. The guards... split up. They moved toward the spot where Ava and Gwestion crouched. Holding his breath, Gladhron paused for only a moment before attempting to signal his brother.

Near Ava, Gwestion also watched the guards warily. He thought it looked as if they would pass by, yet he wasn't ready to lower his guard. And then, he heard the soft sound of an owl, coming from the direction of the wall. A signal. Gladhron's owl-noise was very good, but Gwestion knew the sound of his brother's owl call. And besides... did they even have owls here in Umbar? He had no idea, but somehow, the sound didn't seem to belong here.

Just as he was considering that, the guards made their move. Although Ava had warned him that her guards would not kill an intruder unless there was no other choice... he still reacted instinctively when he felt a blade come up under his arm. He twisted in such a way that he avoided whatever strike was aimed at him, while at the same time springing to his feet with an elbow aimed toward the other man's gut before attempting to disarm him.

Ava was a little surprised by Gwestion's reaction. Yet, also intrigued. With hardly a glance toward Shirin, she shifted from a crouching position, to casually sitting on the ground. Eyebrows raised slightly in a mixture of surprise and curiosity as she watched the scuffle, completely ignoring Shirin's spear. The guard woman had orders not to harm any intruders, so she had no need to worry. Tilting her head with intrigue, Ava watched the two men fighting, prepared to stop it in a moment, if necessary, but curious which would prove the superior fighter between them; the ranger, or her own guard?

@Rillewen
Remus felt the shift the instant the intruder twisted.

Good instincts.

The man rolled his shoulder and hooked an arm around Remus’ wrist, turning with the motion instead of fighting it. Smart. Very smart. Remus let out a quiet huff of approval as his grip was wrenched sideways. The sword was forced loose, skittering across the packed earth with a dull scrape.

So. Hand to hand it is. Remus didn’t bother cursing. He stepped in instead.

The intruder moved fast, too fast for most men, slipping inside Remus’ reach and driving an elbow toward his ribs. Remus caught it on his forearm, the impact ringing up his bones, and he answered with a short, brutal shove meant to unbalance rather than bruise. The man twisted with it, though, boots barely scuffing as he redirected the force and slipped free again.

Annoying.

Remus advanced, relentless. He forcefully closed the space between them inch by inch, shoulders squared, hands ready. The stranger darted in, his hood falling back, to throw a knee which Remus blocked, a palm strike which Remus turned aside... then he vanished from his reach.

“You’re quick,” Remus said conversationally, while batting away a strike aimed for his throat. The pale man didn’t answer. Remus lunged suddenly, faster than his size suggested, fingers snaring cloth at the stranger’s shoulder. For half a heartbeat, he had him. He could feel muscle and momentum, but then the man rolled, using Remus’ own grip as leverage to pivot out and slip behind him.

Clever bastard.

Remus turned just in time to take a blow across the jaw. Not hard enough to stagger him, but solid. Remus grinned despite himself and answered with a hook that would have dropped most men. The intruder ducked it... by a whisper. Remus caught a wrist instead and twisted, trying to lock the joint. The intruder flowed with it, spinning, dropping his weight suddenly so Remus had to brace or lose balance. Their boots dug into the earth, muscles straining, neither quite yielding. Strength met strength.

Remus pushed. The man slid back, then surged forward again, catching Remus across the chest with a shoulder that hit like a battering ram. Remus rocked back a step - one step - and then planted himself and slammed his forearm down, forcing the intruder to break contact or get crushed.

The stranger broke contact.

Remus’ blood sang. Seven seas, it had been a while since anyone made him work for it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shirin. Her spear was still leveled at the second intruder. If she thought Remus was in danger, she’d already be moving. The fact that she wasn’t told him enough. She thought he could handle himself.

Remus stepped right back into the ranger’s space, crowding him deliberately. No room to dance now. He caught a punch mid-swing, absorbed it, and had to move fast to evade another punch aimed at his face. The stranger's attack missed, and Remus drove his shoulder forward, forcing the pale man to brace hard or go down. They were chest to chest, locked.

Remus leaned in even more. “You’re good,” he growled quietly. “But you're trespassing."

***Fight/moves discussed with / approved by Rillewen***

@Arnyn
The only sound, for a few moments, were the quiet grunts of the men as they struggled against each other. And the occasional sound of a fist making contact. But despite all his efforts, Gwestion soon found himself stuck, straining to push the guy off, or else be pushed to the ground. With a strained grunt, he tried to resist. He brought one foot around the back of the other's ankle, trying to throw him off balance and knock one leg from under him. But he was too strong, too well-braced. As the man commented that he was trespassing, Gwestion recalled that Ava's guards would not know who they were, and suddenly he realized maybe he should stand down. But he didn't quite get the chance before Gladhron had joined them...

While his brother was fighting with the man, Gladhron pulled himself up over the wall, unhooking Ava's claw from the top, and dropped down on the other side. He got a bit tangled in the rope upon landing, taking a moment to shake the coils off of his foot. But the moment he got free, he headed toward the two fighting men, intent on aiding his brother. He didn't even think of anything else before throwing a punch, intending to prevent any harm coming to his little brother.

At the moment Gladhron arrived swinging his fist, Ava was surprised as Shirin moved her spear to press threateningly against her throat. Distracted from observing the fight, Ava turned her head to observe her guard, frowning slightly at her for this. That seemed like a perfect cue to halt this 'entertainment'. Her curiosity was satisfied now, anyway. So without any hesitation, she took hold of the spear and in one deft motion she twisted it out of Shirin's grip while she stood up with it now in her own hands, though she pointed it down toward the ground. "Enough, boys." Ava spoke up sharply as she pulled the veil from the lower half of her face. "Good work, Remus." She added with a note of approval in her voice. "But, I must inform you that these are not trespassers. In fact, they are my guests."

@Rillewen
He would recognize that tone and voice anywhere. For half a heartbeat after Ava spoke, Remus didn’t move.

Which was impressive, considering he’d just taken a punch.

The blow had landed square across his jaw, solid and full of big-brother panic and intent. It snapped his head to the side and drew a sharp breath from him as he absorbed it, boots grinding into the dirt as he rebalanced. He didn’t fall. Didn’t stagger more than a step. He did blink once, slow and stunned. Like a man mildly offended by the interruption. Muscle memory screamed to finish the threat, but training - Ashar’s training - won. Remus disengaged immediately, stepping back and lifting both hands, palms open, expression settling into something neutral and respectful. The shift was instant enough to make it clear this wasn’t hesitation. It was obedience.

“My lady,” he said, dipping his head. Only then did he really look at the two men. The one he’d been grappling with was lean, controlled, breath steady despite the strain. With the moonlight catching the man's pale skin and his hair, the coloring told its own story: fairer than Umbar bred, his eyes too light, features shaped... by colder lands. Remus had seen that look before, of course. Northern. Or descended from it, at least. The other...

Remus turned just in time to see the owner of the fist still half-coiled, ready to strike again if needed. Remus reached up and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, with a much too unbothered look about him for someone who'd just been punched once by both men whom Ava had just proclaimed were her guests. “Ah,” he said mildly. “Such an enthusiastic greeting.”

Shirin, meanwhile, reacted a breath later, and with far less grace. “Lady Ava!” she snapped, eyes flashing as she stared at Ava for a moment. Then her gaze dropped to the spear now in her employer's hands, and her mouth tightened. Shirin took a sharp step back, hands flexing, attention flicking between the brothers like a blade testing balance. “Guests,” she repeated flatly. “Unannounced. Scaling walls. And swinging.” Her stare locked on Gladhron. “Hard.”

Remus didn't bother to hide his pleased little half-grin. She minded then, that the stranger had clocked him. That, too, boded well for later that night. He raised his broad shoulders in a shrug. "I've had worse," he put in, but he still glanced at Gladhron with something like appreciation. "It was a good one, though."

Shirin narrowed her eyes a little as her gaze cut back to Gwestion, rather than Gladhron. "One of them fights clean, at least.” She was assessing rather than hostile now. “Tries to turn strength against you instead of matching it. Smart.”

Remus' brows lifted. Praise, from Shirin? That was rare. Remus grinned at Gwestion. "You held your ground," he readily admitted. "That doesn't happen often."

Shirin ignored that, deciding it was more than time to stop socializing. If she'd let him, Remus would go on for much too long, now it was clear there was no threat. But they were still on patrol. "Orders, my lady?" she asked Ava, with a polite bow. Did Lady Hazadazra wish for them to continue their patrol? Or escort her and her guests to the main house, perhaps? "How would you have us proceed?"

@Arnyn
Gladhron heard Ava, but honestly, if the guy attacking his brother hadn't frozen, he would have kept hitting him. It was the fact that he'd stopped doing anything, that made Gladhron stop. "Let go of him," He ordered with a hint of irritation. With good timing, as it turned out, since the guy, Remus, stepped back and lifted his hands. It was clearly because of Ava, however, not Gladhron. But he relaxed a little, regardless, once the man had released his brother.

Gwestion straightened, brushing his clothes a little, and eyed the two guards with thoughtfulness. He was a bit annoyed at Gladhron, however, for 'jumping to his rescue'.

Ava was pleased with Remus' immediate reaction to her order to cease. She was also glad that the ranger didn't seem likely to attack her guard again. She caught the sound in Shirin's voice as she commented on the brother's being unannounced, scaling walls, and swinging hard. She took a moment to think about how to respond to that comment, but Gladhron took up the challenge, instead.

He took a second or two to remind himself that these were Ava's staff people. That they were only doing their jobs, and yes, the three of them had just sneaked onto the premises. He offered an apologetic smile back to the guy called Remus, especially after he seemed to take it good-naturedly, and even grinned and complimented him. "Sorry. He's my little brother. I thought you were going to hurt him." He explained with a little shrug, then glanced at the lady guard, before looking toward Ava.

At that, Gwestion shot Gladhron an annoyed glance, but he didn't comment or offer any explanation about what he was annoyed about. But really... did he have to announce to the first people they met here, that he's his 'little brother'?

"I did tell you that my guards would not harm you," Ava reminded the brothers, raising an eyebrow. "Although, I did not expect to have a spear pressed to my throat after I had surrendered." She added with a harder look at Shirin. "I do hope that was only a bluff, and that you would not have actually done what your spear suggested you intended to do."

Gwestion gave a small dip of his head in acknowledgement of Ava's reminder. He turned to Remus. "I apologize; my reaction was instinctual." He explained quietly. "When someone swings a blade toward me as you did, I am accustomed to having to defend myself, or be killed." At the other guy's compliment about him holding his ground, Gwestion offered a small shrug. "As did you." He pointed out. "Quite well, I might add."

Ava offered a tiny smile, shaking her head slightly. "I have to admit, I did not expect you to react that way," She said to Gwestion. "Since I did mention that my guards would stop intruders... but I was rather curious which of you two would prove the better fighter. That is the only reason I did not stop you immediately," She explained with a small shrug of her own. "I did not anticipate your brother rushing to your rescue," She added, with a glance toward him, before focusing on Shirin's request for orders.

"I would have news, if you have any to share." She declared, growing serious now. "I have been away for some time, as you likely know. Is there anything I need to know about? Anything you can tell me of what's been happening in town?" She paused. "Any news which may give cause for concern, with regards to us, here?" She specified. Everyone knew, of course, that if anything happened to the lord (or lady, in this case) of the estate, the staff would be in trouble. And she just happened to know that at least one of these guards typically listened gossip and rumors, and that few would be better to ask than him. Shirin might also have heard things, she realized. Although she wasn't the sort to spread gossip, she did hear about things.

@Rillewen
Remus lifted his brows. Brothers? There was not much time to think about it, though, nor did it really matter to Remus whether the two Northerners were brothers, friends or acquaintances. What did matter, was the shift he felt the moment Lady Ava’s tone changed as she addressed Shirin. He straightened without thinking about it, boots settling squarely beneath him, hands clasping loosely behind his back. Whatever amusement had lingered in his expression faded into something much more appropriate.

Shirin tilted her head at Ava's admonishment. "I was merely about to try to halt the two pale-faces by threatening your safety.," she said, the sharpness gone from her tone now, "I was most definitely not planning on skewering the one who'd surrendered," she explained, with a little bow of her head to her Lady. "I remember my orders, Lady Ava. And Ashar repeats them frequently."

When Gwestion apologized to him, Remus nodded in understanding. "I will not hold it against you, stranger," he spoke truly. "Though perhaps, if you are staying a while, with Lady Hazadazra's permission, you will indulge me in the sparring ring, sometime?" He glanced at Ava, to see whether she might shut down all conversation altogether. He figured this topic would not be too frowned upon, though. After all, Lady Hazadazra liked those guarding her estate to learn new things, if those things aided in the protection of her estate. And she had just said she was curious about which of them would prove the better fighter.
Meanwhile, Shirin's attention was upon Gladhron. "You, as well," she said, her tone measured.

Ava's bid for news of any sort, was unsurprising. “Nothing to give cause for concern, my lady,” Remus offered. "The city's been noisy, as always, of course. Plenty of talk. Of the usual sort, though. Traders complaining, sailors boasting, street arguments that sound like wars until you realize they’re fighting over dice or women.” His mouth twitched, just slightly.
He glanced briefly toward the wall they’d just come from, scanning the shadows out of habit, before looking back to her. “No one asking questions they shouldn’t be asking.”

Shirin shifted beside him, posture relaxed but eyes still moving. She said nothing, which was confirmation enough. If she'd heard anything worth reporting, she’d speak up.

“There’s been gossip,” Remus added after a moment, because honesty mattered. “But none that touches the estate, or your person.” A corner of his mouth lifted, faint and unapologetic. “And none I could repeat without losing all professional credibility in one go.”

Shirin made a low sound that sounded like agreement.

Remus shifted his weight and allowed himself another glance at the two men. Ava’s 'guests'. One was composed and quiet, watching everything. The other seemed to have cooled down, but at the same time he had that look about him. That look that said he'd throw himself into danger without stopping to think, if he thought it was necessary. An interesting combination...

@Arnyn
The answers given to her were satisfactory. Both Shirin's reply, and Remus' report, which Shirin's nod backed up. Still, she did not intend to lower her guard just yet. She gave a small nod in acknowledgement of the guard's report about the rumors, yet she still had some checking of her own to manage, first.

Hearing Remus suggest that Gwestion and Gladhron maybe join him in sparring, with her permission, Ava smiled slightly with a little amusement. "You are welcome to join in the training with my guards, if you so wish," She told the two rangers. "But first, let us get you settled in. I wish to speak to Ashar, next." She decided.

Gladhron grinned at the invitation. "That'd be interesting. I'd like that," he agreed, with a little glance toward his brother to check if he also agreed. He knew Gwestion didn't like it when Gladhron spoke for him, so he didn't.

"Thank you," Gwestion inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps, we may, if we have a chance." He was careful not to commit, nor to give any hints as to why they were here.

"Continue your patrols as normal," Ava instructed them. "And keep up the good work." She added with a tiny smile, pleased at how observant they'd been about catching the 'intruders'. With that, she motioned to the brothers to come, and then started toward a side entrance. "We will go and speak to Ashar," She explained to them quietly as they parted from the guards. "And I wish to take a look around the place, myself." She added. "It feels as if I have been gone far longer than I have." She admitted.

"And I wish to see a few things, which you mentioned to the Lieutenant," Gwestion mentioned softly as they walked.

Ava glanced at him briefly, taking a second to catch what he meant, then she gave a little nod. "Yes, I suppose I can understand that." She replied. She thought for a moment about that. "I will show you, once I am finished with this." She promised. As they neared the entrance, they were halted by guards standing outside the doorway, but once they recognized Ava, they immediately allowed her entry. She led the way inside, and asked the first servant she came across, to summon Ashar for her.

Trailing along, Gwestion observed everything very carefully, particularly paying attention to how the guards and the servants behaved. They did not seem afraid of the lady, at least. That seemed like a good sign. There were still a few things that he needed to see for himself, though, before he would feel comfortable with sending Arnyn a report one way or the other.

---

It took a few hours, between walking around the mansion grounds, talking with Ashar and a few others, and then meeting several of the escaped slaves she was harboring. As well as 'meeting' her pet tiger, with whom she reunited quite happily. Gladhron and Gwestion both decided it best to keep their distance from him.

At last, Ava seemed satisfied that her home was safe... or, as safe as a home can be, in such a land. At last, as it neared dawn, Ava was ready to head back to the ship to get Tercen. Now that she had seen the estate for herself, and had seen no indication that anything was different than when she had left... she was quite eager to have Tercen join them. Since it was only a matter of going back to the ship and letting them know that all was normal, she suggested that it wasn't really necessary for both brothers to accompany her, and that one of them could remain behind if he felt it would be more useful.

Gwestion immediately rejected that idea. He didn't explain that he still felt wary. That, while she may have only been trying to save one of them from an unnecessary trip, it sounded just as equally likely that maybe she was trying to separate them, so that one could be killed; either the one who remained behind, or the one who went with her. Or both, perhaps. Together, they were safer. They may be outnumbered now, but they could watch each other's backs. And for that matter, if she was trying to slip away or something, they stood a better chance of stopping her if they were together. So, he was not going to let them split up. Especially not so soon after arriving.

They went together to the wall. It was still dark. They were still dressed as before. The claw they had used to climb the wall, was still on the ground where Gladhron had left it. Ava hadn't bothered to grab it before, because she figured she'd be using it again if and when they went back to get Tercen. She found it and then spent a few minutes untangling the rope so they could use it to get back over the wall.

@Rillewen
Aha, the lady had given her permission. That was that, then! Expectantly, Remus glanced between the two Northerners. One of them seemed genuinely interested in sparring, at least. Or was more enthusiastic about it, judging from both his words and his grin. The other... well, he was more difficult to get a reading on. Was he merely being polite? Or was he actually not inclined to join them at all?

After a moment's thought, Remus simply nodded. It didn't really matter, one way or the other. He'd see what they'd do, soon enough.

Shirin's chin tilted before she gave a nod. "Understood, Lady. Come on, Remus," she urged him, unwilling to linger now the order had been given.

Remus refrained from rolling his eyes (for that would not bode well for later tonight) and nodded in turn. "Of course." At Ava's compliment, Remus smiled broadly. He enjoyed praise, and it motivated him.

The two estate guards drew back from Ava and her guests to continue the patrol along their section of the estate.

---

Hours later, it was Shirin who saw them first. "There they are, again," she noted.

Remus raised his eyebrows. Neither of them quickened their pace. "They're going back over the wall?" Remus mused, so quietly only Shirin would hear.

She almost huffed out a laugh. Almost. "I would not put it past Lady Hazadazra. The next patrol might see them crawling right back over the wall."

"We should tell them that might happen," Remus decided.

"I am sure Ashar will have informed them already, if that is the case," Shirin pointed out. "But yes. It won't hurt to tell them. Again."

They fell silent as they came within hearing distance of the group, and the guards simply nodded at their employer, Remus throwing in a little wink at the Northerners, although the guards did not halt and simply continued on their way.

Once the two of them were out of hearing distance again, Remus decided to throw out a line. "So. If you're feeling up to it," he said casually, "I changed my bedsheets."

Shirin hummed. "I'll go with you, then."

Excellent. Remus returned his full focus to the job at hand.

@Arnyn
A small nod acknowledged the passing guards, but Ava had no reason to hail them, nor to stop their patrol. She owned the estate. She could do whatever she liked, here. She knew her guards pretty well, and she wasn't worried about them seeing her climbing over the walls.

Soon, the three were back on the other side, and navigating their way through the wilderness. It took a few hours, and the sun was climbing high by the time they neared the shoreline. Despite the season, they were getting hot. Ava would have waited until the evening had come again, but she didn't want to make Tercen wait any longer than he had to. Besides, she didn't want captain Daamri to have to keep the ship there any longer than necessary, lest he be seen by unfriendly eyes. So they hurried back to the ship, despite the heat. Despite the lack of darkness.

As they arrived, they paused at the treeline and watched for a moment. It didn't take long before Ava spotted the crewman who had rowed them to shore. He had stayed ashore to wait for their return, so that it would be easier to return to the ship upon their return. Assuming nothing went awry. So far, all seemed normal enough. In minutes, they were climbing back aboard the ship. Ava was anxious to see Tercen again. To see him, and to be sure that he was alright. She and the brothers had been away for a while now, and while the crewman assured her that all had been quiet in her absence, she wouldn't be able to relax until she saw him herself.

@Rillewen
He'd been close to finishing the book when the writing had started swimming before his eyes, and he'd fallen asleep with the book on his chest. When he awoke the next morning, it was on the floor. Tercen picked it up and dropped it on the bed, which he didn't bother making. He made quick work of cleaning up as much as he could aboard the ship. The dawn was still fresh when he put on some fresh clothes and whirled a cloak around him even as he stepped out of the cabin, to see if there was any news.

The Captain had none, as of yet. But Daamri reassured Tercen that meant nothing. Even if all went smoothly, the Captain claimed, the Lady would have been hard pressed to have returned to the ship already. Tercen begrudgingly thanked the man, and started wandering about deck. One of the sailors spotted him and managed to pull him into a few card games. Tercen then returned to the cabin, and spent a small hour writing into a bound book full of empty pages. When he was done with that, he decided to pack up his things, choosing to assume all would be well, and he would be getting off this ship later in the day.

He was still in the process of doing just that, when he heard a clear call from the deck.

He almost fell over his own feet on his way to the cabin door, slamming into it, but still managing to stay upright. He yanked open the door, pulling it closed behind him so roughly it might bounce back open again - but Tercen was long gone before he could find out.

The three of them had all just climbed on board when he came into view. Upon seeing Gladhron and Gwestion, he was relieved, but it was the sight of Ava that had a wave of the feeling crashing over him. Whatever the situation was at her estate, in Umbar - at least she had made it back. She was here. She was alright.

Tercen rushed forward, weaving past a few of the crewmen on his way over to her. He couldn't help the grin on his face by the time he reached her. "Temptress," he breathed, wrapping her into his arms and pulling her safely against him. He exhaled, and the tension his muscles had been holding, flowed out of his body along with the air he was breathing out. "How are the state of things?" he asked, and his eyes sought out Gladhron and Gwestion first, because he was not quite ready to let go - although his arms slackened after just a few more breaths. He did enjoy looking at her much more than he enjoyed looking at the brothers, after all.

@Arnyn
As soon as she had cleared the railing, Ava smiled to see Tercen rushing toward her. She could almost imagine him pushing sailors out of the way, although he was more polite than that. She could feel the worry fading from him as he wrapped her in a tight hug. She let him hold her as long as he needed to, before pulling back slightly. Just enough to take a look at him. "Everything quiet here, while we were gone?" she asked softly, just checking.

Hiding a yawn of weariness, Gladhron leaned against the railing as the crewmen went on about their work. "Seems quiet," He reported, since Gwestion didn't seem inclined to speak up. "We met some guards. Some servants. And the captain of the guard,"

"Ashar," Ava spoke up. "Chief of security for my estate."

"Whatever. He says he hasn't heard anything to worry about, and as far as he's aware, no one in the city has much cause to even know that Ava's left her estate."

"I did not make it publicly known, when I left." She explained. "Although, one can never be certain when there may be spies lurking about, watching. That's why I was careful not to bring more than was a reasonable entourage of 'servants' along for my trip." She explained.

"Right." Gladhron covered a yawn, again. "Should've rested before coming back," He muttered.

Ava ignored that comment and turned back to Tercen. "I would like to get us all back within the walls of my estate, as soon as possible. The ship should not be spotted here, or someone will wonder what we might be up to. I would not like to have anyone think of reasons to search it." She explained. "Are you ready to go?"

"We need to write a message, first." Gwestion spoke up.

Ava paused, glancing at him, then nodded slightly. "Right. You may speak to the captain and he will provide you with whatever you require." She promised.

Gwestion nodded, took Gladhron by the arm, and they went off to get the note written.

Ava turned to Tercen, smiling softly. "I can't wait to show you everything, Sunshine. And I was so happy to see Izre again. I know it's probably silly, but I missed him very much."

@Rillewen
Gladhron beat him to Ava's question, so Tercen simply nodded as his eyes slid over her face, as if to check for any sign of concern. But even though there seemed to be some tension left in her, he couldn't detect much more than that. It was the way Gladhron was acting which reminded Tercen that none of the three had gotten any sleep in the past night.

Tercen listened rather carefully to the information Gladhron and Ava offered. "Well, I'm glad you did not," he replied to Gladhron's last comment about getting some rest before returning to the ship. "Before I went stir-crazy." He smiled at Ava. "I'm as good as ready," he promised. "Just two more minutes, and I'm good. I was just getting everything together before I heard the commotion, so..."

Between the four of them, it seemed that Gwestion was still the most level-headed. Remembering Arnyn had requested, over and over, that they send a message back immediately upon arrival. Tercen didn't shout anything after them. They'd know to include he was fine.

Ava soon claimed his full attention, and he couldn't help but return her smile. "And I can't wait to see everything. Including your darling Izre. Even if he might kick me out of your bed..." His smile grew into a grin, and he couldn't care less about any of the crew as he pulled Ava gently against him and claimed her lips for a drawn out kiss. He rested his forehead against hers when he broke contact, his eyes still closed. "I should finish packing." And probably check on that cabin door...

@Arnyn
Ava smiled in amusement at his comment. "I am sorry you had to wait." She told him softly, brushing a bit of his hair back from his face. "Do not let me keep you from getting your things." She added, reluctantly stepping back from him, with a teasing smile. "We have a bit of a walk ahead of us, so I hope you are ready for that." She grinned.


In the captain's quarters, the brothers sat around a desk, with Gwestion at the front, and Gladhron seated in an extra chair at the side. His elbow propped on the desk, head leaning on his arm. Gwestion took a moment to think of the words he wished to write. He had been thinking about it, the entire way back.

"Maybe I should write it." Gladhron suggested, seeing his brother not writing anything yet.

"You'll fall asleep halfway through, and smear the ink all over yourself." Gwestion informed him, somehow keeping a straight face as he recalled the incident in the Wayfarer's.

Gladhron rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "I'm tired, sure, but not that tired." He muttered.

"My handwriting is neater, anyway." Gwestion pointed out. Then he paused for half a beat before adding, "Unless, you'd like to make it into a love letter, as a disguise?" He raised an eyebrow at his brother.

Sitting up a bit more, Gladhron frowned as he felt his face flush slightly. "What? No.. that... I mean," He cleared his throat. "Well. She, um, she might not understand that, you know?" He coughed a bit awkwardly.

Gwestion gave a slow nod, then turned back down to the paper, hiding a faint smile. "Then, perhaps it's best if I write it."

"Yeah..." Gladhron rubbed his eyes and sighed, leaning his chair back in boredom. "But how long are you going to take to do it?"

"Should I write it in Sindarin, or Rohirric?" Gwestion asked, instead of answering.

Gladhron blinked and put his chair back on all four legs, looking at his brother as if he'd just asked him to calculate some complicated equation. "Uh.. well, I don't know? Whichever you feel like? I mean, does it matter?"

Gwestion rolled his eyes and sighed. "Could." He mumbled, thinking about these folks. Apparently, there had been some attempts by some to pose as Gondorians. And that meant, it was entirely possible that some of them may know how to speak, and read, Sindarin. So he made his decision; Rohirric.

He wrote the words carefully, making sure that it was all correct and that there would be no misinterpretations. When he had finished writing it, Gwestion sat back and let Gladhron read it.

"Gwestion, this reads like... a report or something."

"It does not." Gwestion protested.

"Alright, maybe not a report, but..." He shook his head. "It doesn't seem like a real letter. I mean, sure, you used all the right codes and things, but it's... I dunno. It's... I think it would raise some eyebrows, but I can't quite explain why." He shrugged apologetically and sat back.

Gwestion sighed, reading it over again, frowning as he tried to see what Gladhron was talking about. "Fine. I'll rewrite it."

"We should make it sound like we're traveling in Rohan, since we're writing in Rohirric."

Gwestion frowned. "If it was discovered by anyone but Celume, then wouldn't they wonder how a letter from Rohan ended up coming from Umbar, or left on Tolfalas?" He pointed out.

"I don't think so," Gladhron answered thoughtfully. "I heard something about letters sometimes getting intercepted by pirates or something. So, it could happen."

Gwestion considered that, and then nodded slowly. "Then we'll be Rohirric travelers writing from.. Adrast. The quickest way to get a letter from there to anywhere in Rohan, would be to go up the Isen, and from there send it to wherever the letter is addressed." He decided. "Otherwise, it's unlikely a letter being delivered across land, would end up in a pirate's possession."

"Sure. Sounds reasonable." Gladhron agreed.

Gwestion began writing, pausing now and then to ask for his brother's input. Along with a few suggestions from Gladhron, the message was recorded onto the paper, this time in a different style. It was then given a few minutes for the ink to dry before it was folded, slipped into an envelope, and sealed with wax. They didn't have any particular item to use as a seal, but Gladhron used the flat of his knife to press the wax into a flat surface, then he very carefully etched a simple figure into the soft wax before it had finished cooling. "There." He grinned, pleased with his work, and figuring Arnyn would know that was his doing.

"A bird of some sort?" Gwestion tilted his head as he looked over Gladhron's shoulder, eyeing the symbol he had put on the wax.

"Bird?" Gladhron looked at him in mock offense. "That's a dragon, Gwestion." He scoffed. "Seriously, a bird?" He rolled his eyes and put his dagger away.

"Ah.. of course." Gwestion nodded slowly. "How could I mistake those.. spikes..? for feathers? He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

"Sure, you are." Gladhron narrowed his eyes, suspicious that his brother was only pacifying him, but he decided to drop it. "Whatever. She'll know it's a dragon." He hoped.

Once the letter was finished and sealed, they left it with Daamri, who promised to ensure that it was delivered. Then, they went to join the lovebirds on deck. "Ready?" Gladhron asked, quite anxious to get back to someplace where he could sleep. He wondered why they didn't just nap here and wait for dark again. But he supposed there was some reason that his weary mind was just too tired to see, yet.

Once everyone was ready, they were brought back ashore. Ava left instructions with Daamri to deliver the brother's letter, then to return immediately for further instructions. And then, the four of them set off toward the estate again.

This time, now that she had ascertained that nothing was amiss at her home, Ava saw no reason to climb over the walls. Once the walls were in sight, she led them around so that they would come out near the homes of her servants, and therefore they could pass through the wall by means of a small, back gate. The guards there had been warned by Ashar to watch for her, and they were let in without any issues.

"Well, Sunshine," She declared, turning to him with a smile, as the brothers brought up the rear. "Welcome to my home." There was not much to be seen yet, since it was dark, and they were basically in the back yard of the place. But in the daylight, they would be able to see pools and gardens and walkways with gazebos and other lovely things, besides the rear of the mansion itself.

"Wait," Gladhron frowned as he struggled to stay awake, after all this walking. It was already dark by now, and he was exhausted. "You mean you have a back gate, and you had us climb over the wall?" He asked, puzzled and a bit annoyed.

"Yes." Ava answered, turning to him with a look as if to say 'so?'

"And then we had to climb back over the wall, when we were leaving?" His frown deepened, trying to understand this.

"That is correct." She agreed. "And now, we are here. You seem quite tired. Allow me to show you to your quarters?" She suggested.

Gladhron blinked a few times, then nodded. "Yeah... sure." Fortunately, they'd had some stuff to snack on while they were hiking, so he wasn't starving. He wanted sleep more than food, right now. But he was going to be really hungry in the morning. Of that, he was quite sure...

@Rillewen
He smirked a little at her comment that she hoped he was ready for 'a bit of a walk'. And held back a comment of how one might suppose he did much more walking, generally, than she might. For he lived out in the woods, a bit remotely and apart from the Prince's settlement. And he had already told her he did not have a horse, there. "I am good with walking, Temptress," he reassured her. If she'd told him they would have to run, well - that would have changed things.

After finishing his packing, and waiting for Gladhron and Gwestion, they set out. Tercen kept his eyes open, keeping up well with the others. Besides being a good hiker, he enjoyed having his feet on solid ground again rather than the tilting boards of a ship, and he had slept the previous night, while his companions had not.

By the time they reached some sort of wall, Ava led them around it. For a moment, he thought she would lead them into one of the houses which first came into view. For despite the fact they did not look exactly how he thought she had described her home, they still looked luxurious to him, even from the outside. It was dark again, now, however, and clearly he had misjudged just how fancy they were. For on and on Ava led them - until a small gate in the wall itself.

The gate opened smoothly. Guards. Ava had a wall. And Guards. As if her estate were one of the Seven Circles.

Tercen's throat went a little dry. Even if she had spoken of it before, it... it just... he had not really been able to picture it.

Ava welcomed him, and Tercen managed a little smile. "Thank you," he said quietly, choosing to focus on her rather than the grounds of her property, which were cloaked in darkness anyway. At Gladhron's question, Tercen first took a few heartbeats to process it even as he listened to Ava's reply. Their back and forth drew a genuine laugh from him. He gently put a big hand on Gladhron's shoulder. "Excellent idea," he told Ava. "I think my friend here is about to start sleepwalking if we don't push him onto a bed soon." He assessed Gladhron for a moment, then glanced at Gwestion. "Very soon." He frowned a little. "Isn't this kind of thing what r-- umm, people with your profession, do?" he checked, a little surprised by the difference between both brothers. Because Gwestion seemed perfectly fine...

Choosing to keep his hand on Gladhron, so he could offer support or a guiding hand when needed on their way to their quarters, Tercen couldn't help but ask. "And where will you be dropping me, tonight?" he sought to learn from Ava. "Izre will have missed you, all this time," he added, wanting her to know he would understand, with all she had said, if she thought it better not to have Tercen close just yet...

@Arnyn
The brothers had been given a brief tour of the place, already. So, they already had an idea of what to expect when it came to walking through the mansion to get to the rooms where they were to be staying. They had not seen this, yet. They had focused on the things they really needed to see in order to properly report to Arnyn.

Gwestion had had just as little sleep as Gladhron, and he had expended more energy, after the brief fight with Remus. But, he also saw no reason to complain aloud, for what good would it do, aside from letting everyone in earshot know that he was tired and had not slept? That was not a good thing to do, in his opinion. He'd rather people think the opposite even if it wasn't true.

As Tercen put his hand on his shoulder, Gladhron grinned slightly at him. "I'm not quite that sleepy, but yes, a place to sleep is most welcome." He agreed.

"What sort of thing?" Gwestion asked, for clarification as they followed Ava toward the house. "Climbing over walls? We've never had to do that before, that I can recall." He shrugged slightly. "But if you mean going without sleep, yes. Often." He gave a vague, half-smile at that. "Some of us cope better with that than others, however."

"You hardly even sleep on normal nights," Gladhron rolled his eyes, exaggerating a bit.

Shrugging, Gwestion didn't comment about that.

Ava kept quiet and listened with a little smile, but when Tercen asked her a question, she tilted her head to look over at him, and smiled softly when he explained his thinking. "I will show you." She promised. With only a brief nod to her guards as she passed them, she led the way inside the mansion. She guided them down hallways, and up stairs, until arriving at the rooms she had, on the first trip, requested her servants should make ready for her guests. One for Gladhron, and one nearby for Gwestion.

"I apologize for the way in which we had to arrive, here." Ava told them. "I hope to welcome you more properly, in the morning. But I know you are tired, so I will leave you now to rest. If you should require anything, do not hesitate to ask any of the staff. They will do whatever they can for you." She informed the brothers. She had a feeling that they, or at least one of them, would be asking many questions of her staff, and she did not mind that at all.

"Thanks," Gladhron answered Ava, then nodded to Tercen to extend a bit of gratitude to his friend. He wasn't sure he'd needed the hand on his shoulder to keep him from swaying on his feet from weariness, but the thought was nice, and he appreciated it.

@Rillewen
"I don't know," Tercen answered Gwestion. "Climbing in general? Be it walls or trees, or..." He gestured vaguely with his free hand, then grinned at Gwestion's later comment. Because it was true that Gwestion seemed to deal with it much better than Gladhron. He raised his eyebrows at little at the brothers, before frowning. It seemed that, even though Tercen had noted various parralels between his personality and Gladhron's, and Arnyn's and Gwestion's, their sibling relationships were still rather different. Maybe that was because the brothers spent so much more time together?

Tercen was curious as to what Ava was going to show him, but he managed to tamp down on his curiosity. It had been a long enough way from the ship to the estate to make him weary - that helped, too. He simply nodded, with a small smile, his eyes taking in what he could of Ava's home on the way to the brothers' chambers. He returned Gladhron's nod, along with a grin. And wondered whether the brothers would listen to the advice he knew Arnyn had given them, separately. To inspect where they'd be sleeping, together. To try and avoid surprises. In any case, it was probably best if Ava did not hear them talking about that...

"Good night," he bid both of the men, before letting go of Gladhron and stepping next to Ava, sliding an arm around her waist. "And?" he asked her quietly, smiling down at her.

@Arnyn
"And," She smiled as she slid her arm around his waist in return. "You are this way." She informed him, leading the way down the hall a bit further.

Gwestion nodded in farewell, half-stepping into the room for him, but once they had gone on their way, he moved back into the hallway and watched to see where Ava took Tercen, so he would know where to find him. If he was not going to be joining Ava in her room, that is. Once he had an idea of where she had put Tercen, he went over to join his brother in his room. "Let's take a look around, first." He suggested quietly. More like insisted, really.

"I was starting to think you'd forgotten," Gladhron mumbled under his breath, flashing a teasing grin his way.

They entered the bedroom, cautiously, then began to check it thoroughly. "Wow, this place is huge," Gladhron commented in astonishment. "This room could probably swallow up Seri's entire cabin."

"Shh. Don't bring up her or the girls," Gwestion muttered softly. Gladhron had not been there when he and Gwandhyra had spoken, but Gwestion had not forgotten their older friend's concerns.

Gladhron paused, then nodded slightly. "Right. Sorry."

"Well," Gwestion said, dropping it in favor of shifting to teasing his brother. "How long do you think you can keep this place neat?" He wondered, glancing over with a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gladhron replied with an air of mock-offense. "Anyway, I don't see anything to be concerned about." He declared. They had searched for a reasonable time, now. "I think you can go."

"We aren't done until we've checked my room," Gwestion reminded him.

"I know, I know. Let's make it fast, though."

"Right, because if there's an assassin hiding in my room, it's not that big of a deal. So long as you get to go to bed, right?" Gwestion remarked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"That's not.." Gladhron sighed, punching his brother's shoulder lightly. "Shush, you know that I meant. Fine, we'll spend an hour checking every little inch of the place, if it'll make you feel safer, baby brother."

Gwestion rolled his eyes. "Come on."

In the end, they found each room to be safe enough. Gladhron was quite relieved to find no cause for concern, and he bid his brother goodnight, and promptly went to bed.

Gwestion, though he was just as tired, did not go to bed just yet. Both were very impressive, he agreed with that. And they had shared rooms that were much smaller, so it would be a welcome relief to have such a large space to themselves. But, also a bit strange. He went to look out of the window to see what the view was from his room.



Meanwhile, down the hall, Ava had shown Tercen to one of the nicer bedrooms, which had been decorated in mostly greens. She had requested that one be readied for him, because she knew that to be his favorite color. "Is this satisfactory, Sunshine?" She asked as she turned to him, smiling softly. "If so, you may consider it as your own, for as long as you are here." She looked up at him, still hardly able to believe he was actually here. And that she had let him come, despite any risk. She was still torn between feeling excited and frightened with worry. But since he was here, she did want to make sure he was happy with the room he had, even if he might not spend a lot of time there.

@Rillewen
He hadn't been sure what to expect, but... his light brown eyes widened as they took in the room Ava had designated as his. "Is this satisfactory?" he repeated in disbelief while he stepped in further, pulling Ava along with him (since he hadn't let go of her waist). He turned his head this way and that, but his attention kept returning to the large nook where the bed was.

Clearing his throat, Tercen shifted to face Ava and put both his arms around her. "I'm not sure if I can ever show you my cabin now, Temptress," he admitted with a crooked smile. "This is all... very luxurious. I knew you were rich, but... seeing all of this with my own eyes still hits different. And I bet it will hit even more different still, in the light of day, tomorrow. But yes. Obviously - this is 'satisfactory'. Thank you." He would rather not part with her tonight, but... she had warned him in multiple ways about missing Izre and the tiger being territorial. Ava must also be tired. Maybe this was not the night to insist on anything?

He bit the inside of his cheek as he gazed down at her. "Where is your room?"

@Arnyn
Ava laughed softly, and shook her head. "No, I really want to see your cabin." She insisted, turning to face him as she wrapped both arms around him, so they stood there holding each other. She leaned against him slightly, letting her eyes close, breathing in his scent, slowly. "I wish I were not so tired, now." She told him. "I would like to show you everything," She smiled up at him, a little glint of amusement in her eyes at his question. "It is not too far away," She promised. "I will show you the quickest way to get there, tomorrow." She grinned.

"I think Izre will be very curious about your scent on me," She added with a little laugh. "So, I will let him get used to the scent, and then tomorrow, you can meet him? Is that alright?" She wondered. The brothers had not ventured near the large feline, but she felt like that meeting had gone well enough. She was about to take her leave of him, when she remembered one thing she wanted to show him, right away. "Come, there is one thing I wish to show you before anything else," She told him, stepping back slightly as her hand slipped down to catch his, and then she silently she led the way out of the room.

@Rillewen
"Best to show me when the sun is out, right?" he asked, his voice quiet as he looked down at the top of her head as they held each other. Now that they had arrived, and there seemed to be no trouble afoot, he could almost feel his body destressing. Ava had made it. They had all made it. They were fine. They were here.

He tried to hide his disappointment at hearing something along the lines of what he had already been expecting. "Alright," he whispered. "Tomorrow." That covered both her showing him the way to her room, and meeting Izre. One thing Ava said brought a rather unapologetic grin to his face. However, right before he could say anything, she said she wanted to show him something right now and started leading him out of the room by his hand. He blinked, but followed easily. "Uhh- alright?"

@Arnyn
She led the way just a short distance down the hallway, putting her tiredness aside for the moment. Even though they had just arrived, and all seemed safe, she wanted to make sure to show him this place, right now. Just in case of an emergency.

The hallway ended with a heavy wooden door, but she did not open it. She turned to Tercen and looked past him for a moment, making sure they were alone. "I am going to show you something which must remain a secret." She explained softly, then took his hand and placed it on a certain stone making up the hallway. "Turn it clockwise," She instructed him in a whisper. When he did so, a section of the stone wall would be revealed as a hidden door which led to a secret room, and she urged him inside before closing the panel back. It was easier to open on this side, so there was no risk of getting trapped inside.

"After what happened to my father, I commissioned many such places to be built into the estate, in case of... emergencies like that." She explained, in case he was wondering. "This is the closest one to your room. If there is ever any risk to your safety, or there seems to be any threat here on the premises... promise me you'll seek hiding in this, or one of the others I will show you later on." She requested, taking his hands in hers with a gentle squeeze as she looked at him seriously. She was pretty sure this had been one of her conditions upon agreeing to let him come; that he promised to hide if she said to hide, or something like that. But she wanted to hear it again.

@Rillewen
The look he was giving her was pretty confused as she stopped him near the end of a hallway. "Okay?" he half stated, half asked, when she told him what she was about to show him had to remain a secret. He frowned when Ava took his hand and put it on the wall. He followed her instruction, however, and watched the wall becoming... a door. Neither of them spoke as they went in. Closed the door. Re-opened it.

Tercen knew what this was. This had been one of her conditions. One of the things he had agreed to, in his mission to just get her to agree to him coming with her, to her home. Quietly, he listened to what she said. After the... death... of her father... she had built in several spots like this one. Or had them built in. He wondered, then, which craftsmen, which builders, knew about these spots. If she was so afraid... had she... had she... tied off the loose ends? Tercen frowned at himself and banished the thought. He did not ask, however. And he told himself... he told himself it was because they were both tired. Because it was late.

He nodded, his expression looking rather complicated. But he did not offer any objections. "I'll keep to my word," he said, instead, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

@Arnyn
When he assured her that he would keep to his word, Ava breathed out slightly in relief, and gave his hands another little squeeze. She stepped in to wrap her arms around him and wished she could just fall asleep right there. Except she was standing, and her feet were protesting that. She wanted to get off her feet. "I will show you around the whole place, tomorrow." She smiled slightly up at him, eventually stepping back, then began to lead him back toward his room. "I know you must have slept on the ship, but I have not."

She leaned up to kiss him as they reached his door. "I also intend to welcome all three of you properly, to my home." She added quietly. "According to old customs I learned from my father, I should have met you all at the door with coffee, but I hope you will forgive the circumstances which prevented that. You will have it in the morning, however." She promised. "Good night, Sunshine."

@Rillewen
"I will hold you to that," he murmured, his lips still brushing Ava's as he spoke. This was... weird. So weird.

He would be in one room. And she in another. In the same house.

"Am I supposed to lock my door?" he half asked, half teased, as he looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes, before pulling her against him for a second kiss. One that he intended to make her regret this decision of sleeping separately... tonight. At the very least, only tonight, he reminded himself. She had never really committed to a timeline for that. The way he deepened the kisss was almost a form of protest. Then he made himself let go of Ava, opened the door to his room and grinned at her over his shoulder. "See you in the morning, Temptress."

@Arnyn
It was strange, when she thought about what little amount of time they had actually known each other, because it somehow felt as if she'd known him always, and that they had been together for ages. Yet, she had to remind herself (especially after that kiss) that they had been together for weeks, almost without stop. And in that time, and in fact a bit longer, her precious baby tiger (not really a baby anymore, but he was to her) had not seen her.

As for his question, though there was teasing in his eyes, she considered that for a moment. "I will leave that up to you," She decided with a small smile. She grinned slightly in amusement. "If I change my mind and want to come back later, I can always pick the lock." She joked, and she hoped that he knew she was joking. She sighed softly, regretful that there were things to be done and reasons why she could not stay with him this night. "Mmm, yes. The morning." She agreed softly. It was difficult to leave from Tercen, but she managed, somehow.

She figured that their first night back was probably not the time to try and introduce Tercen sleeping in her room, since she could not really say how Izre might react. Perhaps, after he had gotten a chance to meet Tercen and know him somewhat, then she'd see if her tiger would mind him being around. For now, she reminded herself that she had some things left to do before she could go to bed, anyway. So, it was best if she didn't let herself get caught up with Tercen. She would have to remember that she could not be so carefree here, and this was a good time to start resuming her responsibilities here. For, as nice as it was to be in her home again, there were plenty of things she would rather not have to come back to.

---

Though very tired, Gwestion had taken the time to unpack what few things he had brought along. It didn't take him long, but he took a little while to decide where to put his things. Not because there weren't many places to put them, but precisely the opposite: because there were so many places. In the end, he stored most of his things in the top drawer of the dresser. Everything he had fit into the drawer, so there was little need to put anything anywhere else.

As he was finishing, he heard footsteps going down the hallway. Soft steps, nearly too soft for him to hear, but he did. He had left the door partly open, so he could sort of keep an eye on the hallway while he was 'unpacking'. So, he was slightly surprised to see Ava going past, and for a moment, he was a little at a loss for what he should do. Keep an eye on her? But would it be strange for him to follow her? They had parted earlier with the intention of everyone going to bed, to get sleep after making three trips between the ship and the estate.

After a moment, recalling how they had assured Arnyn that they would check their rooms before sleeping, he decided that there was one that should not be overlooked. He stepped out into the hallway again. Ava was no longer in sight by now, having turned around a corner or something. He went to the door that he had seen her take Tercen to, and hesitated briefly before knocking, and in such a way that the guy would not be likely to think it was Ava returning.

@Rillewen
When Ava had left, and Tercen had closed the door, he seemed to consider the door for a moment. Then locked it.

With a little grimace at that, he turned back to the room. By the Valar. It was so... much. It was luxury bordering on decadence. Hell, it was decadence compared to how he lived. Less so compared to how Arnyn lived on the Fourth, but still the difference would be huge, even for her.

Tercen plunged his hands into his pockets. His eyes just kept roaming the room. It was so big, too. And he was alone in it. One hand reached to scratch the back of his neck. Then he grabbed his pack and went to drop it on the bed. He carefully took out the writing supplies and the notebook first, stowing that in the top drawer of the desk in the room. The other contents of his pack unceremoniously got dumped into the nearest and highest drawer by the bed.

The knock at the door surprised him, but honestly he was grateful. It took him just a second to get to the door. Before he unlocked it, he reminded himself of what Arnyn had told him. Be careful. Watch your back. He frowned a little, took a breath, then unlocked and opened the door.

The face on the other side, made his brows rise. "Gwestion?"

@Arnyn
It was clear that Tercen was surprised to see him, but he couldn't really blame him for that. "Apologies if I am intruding," he began, pausing for a second before continuing in a lower voice. "Gladhron and I both took some time to.. search our rooms," He explained. "I thought it might be best to do the same with yours, as well." He didn't mention that he had noticed Ava had left.

"And before you think I am implying anything about her," he hastened to add, with a hand raised to stall any protests, "She has been gone for some time. She is clearly anxious about her safety," The amount of guards here was proof of that. "And, besides... there is always the potential for insects or.. snakes, or whatever, to have found their way in. We don't know this land," He explained, hoping the guy wouldn't be annoyed or something.

@Rillewen
He was not annoyed. In fact, Tercen was slightly amused. It showed in the way he tilted his head as he stepped aside to let Gwestion in. "Aaaaand," he drawled, "Arnyn gave you instructions." He shrugged. "We might not be very alike, Gwestion, but I know my sister." He gestured at the room. "Go right ahead. Nothing has jumped out at me so far."

Tercen scowled a little. "Just a big, fancy, empty room."

@Arnyn
He shrugged slightly. "Perhaps," He answered, without saying one way or the other about if Arnyn had given instructions. He stepped inside. It was not really the most enjoyable thing to have to do, when he was so tired he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. But he wasn't willing to leave this undone. If it turned out there was a scorpion or a cobra hiding in the room, and Tercen ended up dying from it, then that would be Gwestion's fault. And he was not willing to have any other failures on his conscience.

"Each of ours is just as large," He commented conversationally, as he began to search around the room. "We saw some other rooms when we were here, before." To the brothers, who had grown up in a small cabin in the mountains, and who now lived nomadically without any actual home, it was a bit mind-boggling to see the size of this place. Where one woman lived alone. except for her servants.

As for the way Tercen had scowled and mentioned it being empty, Gwestion supposed he was disappointed that Ava had left. He was curious why she had, in fact, but he tried to approach the subject carefully, so not to risk upsetting Tercen with questions.. he was not really sure how to talk to Tercen, yet. If that made any sense. "I noticed Ava heading down the hallway," He mentioned with a slight glance toward him, pausing from looking along the windowsill. "I suppose she has some things to do before she gets some sleep, as well?" He inquired, in a less direct way of asking if she had said where she was going, and what she planned to do.

@Rillewen
"Are the other rooms you saw also this large?" He asked, slightly surprised Gwestion was offering any conversation at all. Tercen grunted as the other man commented on Ava. "I don't know if she does," he realized. "I think it's mostly about her pet tiger not wanting to rip me to shreds on the very first night." He had to admit, his own worrds did amuse him. Ever so slightly.

"Can I help?" he inquired, watching Gwestion going around the room. "What are you doing? Checking nooks and crannies?" He sighed, and figured he might as well 'submit'. "Checking them for what, exactly?' He moved to the other side of the room where Gwestion was, and started mimicking what the ranger was doing.

@Arnyn
"Are the other rooms you saw also as large?"

Gwestion paused to consider that for a moment, taking a glance around. "Well, yours is actually somewhat bigger than Gladhron's and mine," He informed him. "I suspect there is a bit of favoritism at play, there." He glanced sidelong toward Tercen, wondering if he might catch the fact that he was making a joke, or if he would miss it. Most people seemed to miss it, and he usually just shrugged and went on with his day. "As for other rooms," He went on, "some were bigger, some smaller. It depends on the room, I suppose." He shrugged, not sure how to explain it. "We didn't get a full tour," He added.

At the question of whether he could help, Gwestion made a motion to indicate 'go ahead'. "Mostly, yes," he answered, in reply to the follow-up question. "I'm looking for... anything which could be a danger, really." He added. "Spiders.." It was a little more challenging not to smile at that, recalling how that part of the search had gone with Gladhron. "Snakes.. whatever. I read up about the kind of creatures we might expect to find here, as well as I could." He added. "Some can be quite deadly. There are cobras, which can actually spit their venom into a person's face and blind them," He frowned at the thought of such a thing. "Then, there are multiple varieties of scorpions, which tend to hide under rocks, or whatever they can find that seems like a cozy hiding spot. And the spiders..." He stopped short of mentioning why he'd had to familiarize himself with the various spiders they were likely to encounter. "Most of those I read about were not much of a threat, but," He shrugged and trailed off.

While he was talking about the creatures he'd read about, he was also methodically checking every part of his side of the room. "I wish I hadn't had to leave the book in the library." he added quietly, with vague feeling of amusement as he realized he sounded like Brooke, saying that. But, such a book would be quite useful, here, he argued in his mind. Whatever. "I am also keeping an eye out for anything that may have been put here deliberately," He admitted honestly. Though what exactly that would be, he couldn't say unless he actually found something. It was just one of those things that you don't know what you're looking for until you find it. Hopefully, he wouldn't find anything like that, though.

@Rillewen
Tercen was pulling open drawers on a piece of furniture on his side of the room, a little distracted from his own question, when Gwestion answered. The blond man bit the inside of his cheek as to not let out a huff of laughter. He let out of a bit of a struggled "mhmm", instead, hoping it sounded thoughtful. When the northerner continued about Ava showing favouritism, though, Tercen looked back at Gwestion with a little grin. "Oh yes. The nepotism begins already." He refrained from adding that maybe it was a 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' thing"... although it was Ava who did most the scratching. Tercen went back to the drawers. Gladhron might find that funny. Maybe. But surely it would probably kill whatever hint of humor Gwestion was showing.

"Oh, you're looking for animals," Tercen mused. "Do you intend to move all the furniture around, as well?" he wondered genuinely. Little critters like that could easily hide in the smallest of places, after all. And Tercen got the impression Gwestion was the kind of person who was thorough. Like Arnyn was. With a shrug, Tercen moved the piece of furniture away from the wall on one side. Nothing here. He moved it back.

"Most were not much of a threat," Tercen repeated drily, about the spiders. "Yeah, except for the ones that can get into your shoes or boots and completely messed you up." He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms and watched Gwestion again for a moment. "I'll be on the lookout for those, don't worry. Pitch black, huge behind, with the red spots on them." He slanted his head. "I might not look like the brightest kid on the block, but like I already made plain at ranger headquarters, I'm not a complete idiot," he informed Gwestion. He didn't sound upset, though - and that was because he wasn't. It was just information that he was offering to the ranger, or reminding him of. "I looked into things before we set out." He walked over to the drawer where he'd emptied all his things except for the writing tools and the notebook, took out three books and tossed them behind him on the bed, half turning as he did so. "Here. One on the area's flora and fauna, one on the history, and one on the customs. I finished the one on history and have looked up some things in the other two. You can borrow one whenever you like. Just bring it back to me when you're done. I bought them, and I don't have the kind of funds Arnyn does."

@Arnyn
"Shocking." Gwestion replied to the nepotism comment, which of course was not at all surprising. It would be surprising if Ava did not favor Tercen over two guys she had barely met. They weren't here to keep her company, after all. But he was a little too tired to catch much else in Tercen's tone, nor the 'mhmm'.

At the question of moving furniture, Gwestion gave a small nod. "I'd check underneath anything big enough for a mouse to hide under, and behind anything with a gap about the same." He suggested. For snakes could hide in such places, right? And other unpleasant critters. They probably should have all taken a nap at the ship or something, he thought. He felt as if he wasn't really at his best, and he did not like that. He didn't like the thought of maybe missing something important.

Tercen's response about what Gwestion had read, caught him by surprise. He stopped and glanced toward him. "Right. Widows, recluses.." He agreed. "But those are found pretty much everywhere. Most of the spider varieties that I read about which are native to this area, are not harmful to people." He emphasized. A fact he had tried to be very thorough about investigating, because of his brother. "Bigger, perhaps, but not harmful."

He stopped and glanced over with a small frown at Tercen's comment about not looking bright. That he was not a complete idiot. "I didn't say that you are.." Gwestion tried to assure him, feeling maybe he had misspoken. This.. was part of why he did not often engage in conversations. Inwardly, he sighed. Before he had the time to attempt an apology, though, Tercen surprised him further by pulling out some books, declaring that not only had he read up on the area, but had actually bought the books. Gwestion blinked as he was told that he could borrow the books.

"I didn't realize you were interested in books." He mentioned. Of course not.. he knew very little about Tercen. Clearly, he was not quite as much like Gladhron as Gwestion had been led to believe, though. His brother would rather make up his own stories than read them in a book, and he found most books boring if they didn't have some sort of story in them. "Thank you," Gwestion added, as he moved to pick up the book that was nearest him.

When he did, he thought he saw a quick movement. He paused, glanced again at the blanket where the books had been tossed, and realized that something he had first taken to be a part of the design on the tan covers, did not belong there at all. A small, tan scorpion sat there, tail raised and ready to strike. Without hesitating, Gwestion used the edge of the book in his hand to knock the small arachnid onto the floor, then stepped on it as fast as he could. His heart raced as he looked back to the bed, wondering if there could be more of them, then back toward the other man.

"Tercen, take a careful look in that drawer again," He instructed, moving his boot off of the scorpion to inspect its remains. Based on the sketches he had seen in the book, it looked like one called a deathstalker, which he had read was extremely deadly. "I don't know whether this thing was hiding in the drawer and caught a ride on those books when you tossed them... or if he crawled in through this window," He frowned, noting how the window came right up to the edge of the bed. He did not mention the third possibility, that it could have been placed there, by anyone.

Then, glancing up, he added, "Look only, don't reach in there." He clarified, just in case. While Tercen did that, Gwestion prepared to check the blankets, under the other books, and around the window.

@Rillewen
"I suppose," he agreed, about the widows. "I do live in a forest, so they don't particularly concern me more here than they do there. But knowing what I should look out for back in Ithilien, tipped me off I might need to look out for similar or other things here. I did get the impression little animals like that could be more ubiquitous here."

When Gwestion seemed to take his earlier comment the wrong way, Tercen cocked his head. "I never said you thought I was," he noted, with a wry smile. "I just know what people tend to think when they look at me." He shrugged, leaning against the dresser. "I like books. They don't complain," he pointed out. "And they offer a thousand lives, if you're willing to read and live them. As well as offer valuable information, when you need it."

He blinked when Gwestion swiped at the sheets with the book and then stomped his boot on something. Curiously, he leaned in to watch when the ranger removed his boot. hat was... that was.. a scorpion? It matched the drawings he'd seen in the book, anyway. "Ugh," he said, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "That's not very relaxing." To have actually found one here...

On. The. Bed.

Tercen didn't balk at Gwestion's order. The displeased look on his face said it all. There had been one of those things in the room. That meant there could be more. Every day! And now he had to check the drawer? Pull everything out and check it for-- He paused with his hands on the handle, as Gwestion said not to reach in. "Alright," he drawled, a little confused. He opened the drawer, his eyes scanning his belongings. "What now? I don't see anything on top, but how am I supposed to check it any better if you won't let me put my hand in?"

@Arnyn
Slowly standing up, Gwestion rubbed his eyes. He was tired. And he didn't really want to try to think about what to do, right now. But obviously, he had to do just that. He looked down at the dead scorpion, staring for a moment as he tried to remember whatever he had read about these things. "They usually travel alone," He muttered, more to himself than to Tercen. That was hopeful, right? So it didn't seem too likely there would be another. He hoped.

But he still had to decide what to do about the drawer. "Just hold on. I'll check it in a minute," He decided. First, the window and bed. He studied the blankets on top carefully. Extra carefully, because of how well the thing had blended in, before. His heart still pounded at the memory of the scorpion's tail lashing toward him when he picked up the book. How close he had come to being stung by the thing. "In your reading, did you happen to come across any information about scorpions?" He asked Tercen. "Particularly one they call a 'Deathstalker'?" He glanced briefly at the other guy, before returning his focus to the blankets. It seemed to be hiding no more arachnids, at least. He carefully moved the remaining books apart, to verify that there were no more of them, there. And the pack that had been tossed on the bed. Then, he carefully separated all of the pillows, then studied the windowsill, and the curtains around it.

The window was partly open. The night was warm, compared to what they had come from in Gondor, so that didn't seem too unusual, he supposed. He could understand, if this room was not often used, that perhaps when the servants had been readying it for a guest, they had opened the window to let in some fresh air. That also made sense for how a scorpion could have gotten in. He frowned, hoping that was all. He took a moment to consider that, before closing the window. He would not disregard any other theories, but he would consider that one as the most probable unless anything else happened to suggest another theory to be more likely. He turned back to Tercen as he moved toward the dresser. "It looks like, maybe, it crawled in through the window." He informed him. He would keep his other theories to himself for the time being.

Now, for the drawer. Gwestion took a look at it, himself. Then, after taking a moment to think, he drew his dagger, and used the point of it to move a few things aside to look around and under them. At last, he felt satisfied that there were no scorpions hiding in there. Probably, there had never been any there to begin with. It had likely come in through the window, he decided. Hoped. "Alright, I believe it's safe," He reported, a little reluctantly. "I would hope that such an incident is not common," He added with a little frown. "But, just in case, watch out for any more turning up." He suggested.

There was also the problem of what to do with it? Gwestion felt a bit too tired to try and make any decision about what to do with the dead scorpion, right now. He frowned as he acknowledged that, and decided to come back to that question when he had slept. But, he didn't want to simply dispose of it, either. For one thing, he would like to make inquiries from someone who knew about these things. Someone who could tell him for sure if it was or wasn't what he thought it to be. Secondly, he hadn't yet decided whether to try and gauge Ava's reaction to hearing about it. Should they tell her? should they not tell her? He frowned, deciding not to get stuck in the questions, right now. "Do you have a piece of paper I could borrow?" He asked Tercen.

@Rillewen
Tercen was a bit at a loss of what to do now, and he lingered uselessly by the open drawer for a moment, before wandering off to another part of the room and checking a few things there. Encountering that scorpion had put him more ill at ease than he already had been. Because at first his discomfort had come from having been alone in a big, fancy room like this, and feeling very out of place. Now... well, now it turned out he might never be sure if he was alone, after all. And he remembered what he'd read about certain scorpions. Those things could be deadly.

"It's in the book," he said unhappily, in reply to Gwestion's question. "You can read all about it."

He turned, slowly, when Gwestion commented the dangerous little monster had come in through the window. 'Maybe.' His light brown eyes narrowed at the ranger. "Yeah," he drawled. "Maaaaybe it did." Thinking about what Gwestion might be thinking, Tercen halted his search of the room, believing they had quite checked all of it anyway. They could still miss anything, of course. These things could hide in the smallest spaces. Tercen had also read about that. They could fit themselves under a door crack, sort of squishing their own bodies to do it. A chill ran down the back of his neck. He scratched it.

The ranger's next inquiry made Tercen debate it for a moment. Then he figured, if Arnyn trusted the man, he could probably do the same. And moved to the top desk drawer where he'd stowed the notebook. With quick, unhesitant hands he pulled the last page from the notebook, put the book away into the desk drawer again, and held the piece of paper out to Gwestion, not offering any kind of explanation.

"We have certain habits in Ithilien," he did tell Gwestion. "Like how lavender plants or basil can help ward off flies. What herb or spices to sprinkle along the threshold of doorways to keep ants from coming in. I bet there are some similar things we could do here to help keep these out." It was a hopeful thought. He didn't know if these animals even cared about anything. The book hadn't mentioned anything. But if there were ways, Ava would surely know. "I'll ask Ava tomorrow. Can't imagine she wants her latest plaything to get killed in his sleep," he added casually. Not that he felt casual about any of this, at all.