| Eveligh |
|
| Princess_Greenleaf |
|
| gelireth_undomiel |
|
| Arwen_Undómiel22 |
|
| Eveligh |
|
| Princess_Greenleaf |
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
|
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
| Eveligh |
|
| Arwen_Undómiel22 |
|
| Eveligh |
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
| Arwen_Undómiel22 |
|
|
|
| Princess_Greenleaf |
 RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: April 04, 2005 12:27
|
|
(( *clears throat* I would just like to say thanx to Fealome for Draeawen parts! They are great! :love: ))
Tir was in low spirits as he had a numbing feeling running through his iron blood. His head was a little fuzzy and his concentration was non-existent.
Tir felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned abruptly, which caused a sensation of acute pain which penetrated through his left arm. She was a maiden, also dusty from traveling. Running up to him, she reached and supported his back. Tir’s face color flushed. He was not delicate! He tried to dismount and she insisted that he wasn't able to do it himself. The stable master was then commanded to take the boisterous Larkwing to a stable and care for her greed and thirst.
"Yes, my lady." he replied taking the mare from his hands.
"Come this way." said Draeawen turning to the young man, and leading him towards the Healing House. "Fighting without armour is not a very wise thing to do, you know." she said gently, and with the tiniest trace of a smile.
Tir followed her reluctantly though he had no choice as she had a tight grip on him.
"Now really Miss, this is not necessary. Im fine." She just shook her head.
He just got there and then his mind swooned and he fainted...
His dark thunder struck eyes opened to see a sweeping roof parallel to him. He smelt burning of curious spices or something. They made his saliva dry in his throat. The maiden was nearby attending to her business. He wanted to leave but found that his muscles wouldn't tense so he just lay there pouting and chewing his tongue until she noticed him.
'Ah, I see you've come to!' , she said, speaking playfully, 'you wouldn't believe what I found in that wound of yours.'
He pouted and raised an eyebrow. Oh wouldn't I? He had a quick temper. He was feeling hot and didn't much like the thought of having to play guessing games.
"And what would that be?" He looked puzzled but not concerned. "Do tell me miss." He had a mocking tone. She came nearer. Tir sat up and the pain cursed his every limb. Sweat congealed on his back which was now bare. Now that it was mentioned, where were all his possessions?
'Would you believe me if I told you, young man, that you had a 2- inch spear point nestled deep in your arm, and moving inwards?"
"Ah, well, that’s just it, I would really as I have been to strange places and seen strange things and a spear is not the worst." 'He was being wretched to her. She didn’t deserve this at all' he thought. His minds eye was running over time. He tried to think of where he had got the spear head.
"My name Draeawen." said the maiden, ignoring his rudeness. "Your face is not familiar to me, though it matters not. So long as you are in need of strengthening, you are welcome in the Healing Houses." She tightened the bandages on his left arm, and though she looked at him kindly, she did not smile."Now, I can't help but wonder.",she said at last, "To whom did this spear belong, and what was it that brought you into such a conflict?"
Now she was being nosey, Tir thought, but what did it matter.
"Well that depends - I wouldn’t trust you except you seem fair and trustworthy, though my business is my own."
"Bravely said, young soldier. Know that I would not be asking you these things if I had not some reason for doing so. I am but a maiden of Rohan, a healer, and one who would have all her patients be restored to health and happiness." Draeawen bent nearer and said in a whisper. "Young master, you may be in danger."
Tir straightened up ignoring the pain.
He traced her face.She looked kindly which he respected in her. "Well, m'lady in that case," he continued trying to be a little more gentle "...I believe the spear is of Dunlander origin. It was in a fair battle that took place on the plains of Rohan." He bowed his head which was a little strained. "Though you may not choose to believe me Miss. Please tell me what danger I am in?" He finished quietly.
"Am I right in supposing that you are Tir, son of Siar?"
"Indeed M'lady, I am" He smiled a little to be recognised as a man of Rohan.
"Then it is as I feared." said Draeawen, standing so that a beam of evening sunlight from the open window lighted on her golden-brown hair which she worn tied back, away from her face. Her gaze never left the young man as she continued. "Rumors about you have been spreading throughout the city of late. A Rider, by the name of Eaoden, claimed to have seen you slay Pirvan, a Rider of the noble Lord Beadumod's company in an act of grave treason. Myself, I believe it to be no more than tavern gossip, but we must be wary for your safety nonetheless, Tir, son of Siar."
Tirs head raised, he had not heard mention of his now deceased father. "Then you believe me when I say that I am no traitor?" said Tir, proudly. "I must believe you." Draeawen replied sensibly, "For it was I who pulled the spear head from your wound! Not a rider in all of Rohan would wield such a spear, unless he were a traitor. But come, we must get you to the grand feast in haste, for it has nearly begun. It would be unjust to let this 'Eaoden' denounce your honor, without you being there to defend yourself. Do you believe you are strong enough to do so?" Tir knew this last sentence referred not to his strength of body, but to his strength of will. It was as if she challenged him to find the strength. He knew it was his duty to say the truth. He nodded and looked to the door. "Lets go."
The sharp pain was still there as they strode to the feast. Though his arm wasn't as stiff and he was very grateful for it too. However he wasn't sure could he weild a weapon yet with it. No doubt it was very bruised and a great nuisance. They passed the outer door and continued on towards the manty cheers and laughter with in.
King Eomer had long finished speaking when they finally arrived at the grand feast. Although over a hundred people filled the great hall,though the air was breathable as a result of the open windows high above which let in the cool night breeze.
Tir halted outside feeling a stabbing sensation in his arm but also in his head. He quickly pulled himself together. Draeawen went ahead, motioning Tir to follow. She was leading the way, which was a good thing. Something gave Tir a very bad feeling.
It was what Draeawen had said- "A Rider, by the name of Eaoden, claimed to have seen you slay Pirvan, a Rider of the noble Lord Beadumod's company in an act of grave treason."
He waited as she continued into the party and walked out of sight. He would wait a little.
Draeawen moved to a place next to a young woman with golden hair, and a tall man who had a long scar across his left cheek.
"Rielwyn, it is good to see you so well!” Draeawen said, happily, to the young woman. Rielwyn smiled in return,"Glad I am to see you here, Draeawen. You do not often come to Feasts!” Rielwyn bowed her head in respect, she knew Draeawen as a friend who was dear and kindly. “Tell me, are the Healing Houses so filled in these days that you find not the time to be at joy?" Since a great loss had befallen the other woman Rielwyn had seldom seen Draeawen. Rielwyn had found her company to be fair and happy but had been lost when tragedy befell her.
"It seems to be so." Draeawen replied, nodding her head. "And yet, you know, Rielwyn, that my place isn't at these grand feasts anymore, since my husband is dead. Truly, I am better off working in the Healing Houses, for my place is there now."
"Your husband is greatly missed for I, too, grieve at the loss of his face at these feasts, Lady Draeawen." said the tall man with the scar, speaking for the first time. Beadumód had stood silent as the two women spoke, "I will never forget how he stood ground and fought at the battle of Helm's Deep, despite the oncoming legions of orcs. Even now I am sure that he would have fought with such bravery upon the Fields of Pelennor, even to his death." Rielwyn looked sadly upon them both and was pleased when Draeawen spoke,
"Yes. I thank you, Lord Beadumód, for honoring my husband. But to change the subject, let me introduce to you one of my patients. His presence at the feast tonight is of great importance, which is part of the reason I am here." She looked puzzled, Tir was absent...
Tir looked through the gap in the ajar door. A man passed by him giving him very disgusted looks, he returned them in his own "horty" manner. The crowds looked amazingly huge and everyone was listening to the King, who by now would have heard the news of Tirs arrival..
At that moment, clamor of mugs pounding on wooden tables called everyone in the hall to attention. On the dias, King Eomer motioned for a man to move forward who looked, at first glance, a typical Rider of Rohan. And yet, beneath the golden hair which hung in his face could be seen thick, black brow. It seemed to scowl and mock at the same time, and Tir felt suddenly wary.
What was it that this man had to say? He could not trust anyone at all. Treason indeed! Tir had done many regretable things but none would effect the King of his homeland...He had more honour than that.
|
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
| Arwen_Undómiel22 |
RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: April 16, 2005 02:50
|
|
[size=1]((Huge thanks to Eveligh for Rielwyn and Beadumód - it was great fun to write it and I look forward to part two :love: ))[/size]
Eomer King sat before his dais as Beadumód and Rielwyn came to their place toward the head of the Hall. The doors to the Golden Hall closed and the sound echoed but was dimmed on the mass of the people gathered. As ale was placed before Rielwyn Beadumód took the tankard, Rielwyn looked at him with surprise yet no less grateful as he gave to her a goblet filled with a sweet wine. The last of the Riders had arrived and as all stood waiting at their places, Eomer King rose. He held before him a great cup and with a side ways glance to his nearest men he smiled, “Here tonight we are gathered to celebrate the awaited return of our finest Riders and Marshall’s.” Eomer paused looking about the Hall; many held tankards or goblets and many were waiting for him to continue on. “May they enjoy well the night and keep safe our lands. To the Returned!” He cried and drained his cup.
“To the Returned!” The Hall echoed with its many people, Rielwyn among them holding her goblet high before she too drank a little from it. The golden fixtures glimmered and shone in the light and many Riders with their wives came before the King. The women bore great cups filled with many different wines. The Hall was glowing and far beyond out on the plains those that were given the charge to patrol saw the splendour of Meduseld. No star could have shone brighter that night then the House of Eomer.
The hails and clattering of cups had only stopped to hear well the starting of such a feast. It had been but a few moments since the gracing of the Feast when Beadumód went to his sister, “Come,” He said as he came to her side, “‘Tis time we pay our respects to the King.” He said in low tone, he was yet to drink his own ale for he was a man who drank little and rather delighted in talk with people of a sober nature. But now as his duty he led his sister toward the great dais where the King stood in talk with another Marshall. There many had brought greetings to their King and he had taken many a sip from the goblets of maidens. Beadumód took Rielwyn to bow before the King.
“He is busy in talk, w-we should not bother him with so light a matter.” Eomer was still in deep talk with the other Marshall as Rielwyn went on. “I have spoken naught but two words to Eomer King.”
Beadumód smiled kindly. In a crowd Rielwyn would speak little, only in the company of those she knew would she chatter and be at ease. Before Rielwyn had not the chance to object further, Beadumód brought her before Eomer. Uncertain she came forth bearing her cup and bowed low on her knee before him, “Hail Eomer King,” she said barely reaching above a whisper. Though she be a Lady of the court of Edoras, Rielwyn not spoken with Eomer. Beadumód smiled upon his sister’s notions before he in his pride of being a Marshall to Rohan’s Lord bowed also.
“My Lord.” He said and the siblings stood before the King and his first Marshall.
Maethor stood respectively silent as Éomer was approached by another Marshal and a fair lady, whom he presumed was somewhat related to the marshal either by family or marriage. He bowed his head in a polite greeting and cast his dark eyes over them both, a friendly light shining in them. He was not acquainted with either of them, however since he was based in the West it meant that he did not see many other Rohirrim apart from those of his own and those he already knew from previous years when he was but a young Eorling himself. His visits to Edoras were usually too brief for him to socialise much with other Rohirrim whom he did not know, barely having enough time to speak with the ones he did. He remained at the King's side, as was his place, for the first of the formal introductions.
Rielwyn waited as Eomer took the cup and drank. As he did so she was aware of the Marshall at the Kings side, he stood silent yet looked over them kindly. Slowly she rose to her feet and took back the cup that was returned to her, Beadumód smiled at her sudden shyness as she again bowed her head low. Eomer keeping his formal air when glanced to his first Marshall, "Glad to have you hear with Beadumód and warm welcome to thee Rielwyn, daughter of Beorn."
Rielwyn managed no words as she wished to keep silent and avoid shame, she had seldom been in the company of the King and had spoken to few riders as most were often abroad. Beadumód smiled to his lord. He turned his attention to the man beside him, he had only seen brief catches of the First Marshall and now Beadumód gave a gesture of the same respect to him.
"Here I introduce thee to Maethor, first Marshall of the Mark." Beadumód looked to Rielwyn and saw that she now bore the cup toward the Marshall knowing well the respect that was to be shown. Uncertain Rielwyn stood with the goblet waiting for it to be received.
Maethor reached for the goblet and took it from Rielwyn before raising it to his lips and drinking from it. His rich brown eyes met her grey ones for a brief moment and he smiled before handing the cup back to her. “I am honoured to meet thee, fair Lady Rielwyn.” He turned to her brother and added, “And Lord Beadumód it is also an honour to make your acquaintance. I have heard many a good word about your rank and of you, as a Marshal who leads them.”
His eyes left them both for a fleeting second to glance over in the direction of a loud commotion, ensuring to keep his own men in check and not have them subject their éored to fall under any shame. However they were all mostly honest and responsible Eorlingas and he had little to worry about as he caught sight of a young Rohir rise from the ground and pick up his fallen chair.
Turning back to Beadumód and Rielwyn he enquired, “I hope to find you both in good health and spirits?”
When Rielwyn received back the cup she drank in her turn. Beadumód respectfully gave a nod when Maethor addressed him, “And so to is it an honour to meet thee, Maethor,” Beadumód bowed his head respectfully. “Many a great word has also passed of thee in the Mark.” Beadumód looked to his company also, he saw many of his younger riders delighting in the ale and talking with maidens. The fire was roaring and the Feast was growing lively with many random Hails being cheered. With his men doing no more damage then talking shamelessly Beadumód’s attention returned when asked if he was kept in good spirits.
“I am well and in glad spirits to be returned to Edoras though it be brief.” He smiled and then shattering her shy silence Rielwyn spoke,
“Honoured I am to meet thee, Maethor, Marshall of the Mark.” She spoke clear to reach above the din and smiled yet it faltered a little when she next spoke. “I am also of good health and in joyous spirits to see my brother returned and Meduseld alive in such cheer.” Her voice quavered when she spoke of her own spirits but moved aside her own thoughts and cheerfully she asked,
“And you my Lord how fairs thee in health and spirit?” her cheerful manner overcame that of shyness for a brief moment when she asked next, “Perhaps you can tell me more of what has passed in the Riddermark since my brother wishes to keep some things silent from me?”
“Aye, it is rare that any of us are in Edoras for long,” he glanced over in Éomer's direction with a small grin, “Our King certainly keeps us sharp and alert as it should be.“ His gaze turned to Rielwyn as she began to speak and he listened before smiling warmly and replying, “I am in the best of health and spirits, my lady, I thank thee.”
Quiet laughter rumbled in his throat as he caught sight of her eager look for news, though his smile turned bittersweet. She bore the same look of his sister, Mîriel, a restless desire for freedom, a keen spark for adventure and a taste for action. It was unfortunately, for Mîriel, a call that could not be ignored; and a heavy heartache for Maethor as he thought of his lost sister. He sighed heavily as he remembered the days past of when his sister would bombard him with questions of what had he had seen and done in the Riddermark, pleading to join him with every passing moment.
He returned from his wandering thoughts and replied, “Well, that is depending on what I am at liberty to say and of what interests you,” he paused to glance at Beadumód and see whether he wished him to speak of such matters to his sister or not before adding, “However the majority of my news comes only from the West of Rohan where I am charge.”
When Maethor laughed quietly Rielwyn smiled but it seemed that his memory recalled him into some bittersweet past. Rielwyn looked on him with some worry but then he smiled warmly to her.
"Pleased I am to hear you are well."
And when next Maethor spoke he looked to Beadumód. Beadumód knew that Rielwyn would ask such things and he chuckled and shook his head, he was glad that she had found other company to inquire of Rohan's state.
And when Maethor told her of his place of charge Rielwyn replied, "I care to hear of all that passes in the Mark whether it be West or East, Lord." she smiled, "I am glad to hear news of any happenings my Lord." Rielwyn was indeed restless for something beyond the walls of Edoras, some action to give her the chance to ride in her brother’s following. "Please tell me what you may of what passes in the West."
“Well I dare not to delay such an eager interest for much longer then or I'm sure we will see your shadow across the Riddermark, searching for tidings yourself!” He smiled.
“Affairs in the West are reasonably quiet of late,” he began, “We are patrolling the areas to ensure that our people there are safe and content and protect them of whatever threats may befall them. We also wish to encourage more citizens to settle there in time. Repairs on Helm's Deep are being continued to restore it to it's former glory so once again it will be our stronghold if needed; although we hope that such an event will not arise. Also we are attempting to clear out the surrounding peaks of the Ered Nimrais of any remaining goblins that can be found... Does that satisfy your curiosity my Lady?” He glanced briefly over to Éomer when he finished speaking, knowing that there were other events which would need further discussion, although they would remain silent to the rest of the Hall.
Rielwyn was pleased with what she heard and her eyes shone brighter and the glance exchanged between the Marshall and the King did not go unnoticed but she did not press it further. "My curiosity is for now content my Lord!" She laughed and drank a little of the wine before she went on. "It is good to hear of the repairing of Helm's Deep, and I'm at joy to hear that its former glory shall be restored in due time." The Hall was growing more cheerful and for a while Rielwyn was silent pondering what she had been told.
Beadumód now watched his company and was pleased that Rielwyn no longer hid in her shyness. He smiled in turn to Maethor but said nothing as his attention was drawn to his Riders. Rielwyn spoke again,
"No doubt if I had the chance and were permitted to ride, you would indeed see my shadow hunting all tidings. Tell me, if I may know, have you family that ride also for the Mark?"
“Indeed, a stronghold as magnificent as ours must be restored to last for generations to come and we hope it shall not fall into any disrepair in the near future, but will remain as a landmark and base within the Riddermark,” he agreed.
Just then a court servant approached Maethor and handed him an overflowing tankard of ale before rushing on. He held it out for a few moments as the sloshing liquid spilt onto the stone floor, before frowning slightly and drawing it in to his side out of the way. It was clear that the alcohol was becoming in greater demand already as servants hurried to satisfy everyone's thirst, although Maethor had been quite happy without one for the present moment.
He brought his attention back to Rielwyn as she spoke once again. He smiled as he listened to her; she reminded him more and more of Mîriel with every passing moment he spent conversing with her. “Aye, my father also rides and leads an éored, although it has been many moons since I have seen him last. He is based here in Edoras, as are the majority of the Rohirrim, apart from the éoreds I command in the West and those under the command of Elfhelm, Marshal of the East Mark.” The face of the older Marshal appeared in his mind and he also thought of Erkenbrand, the former Marshal whom had had Maethor's title before him. “Although my father is not in the city at present, but out on the plains,” he added with a smile.
“And can you tell me of the tidings in Edoras, my Lady?” He enquired, “For I am here so seldom that I rarely get to hear of what passes in the city apart from the official news.”
The ale was flowing and Rielwyn was at joy, she much enjoyed the company of Maethor. She listened to all that he said with the greatest of interest and gave a nod of her head on the agreement of the state and pride of Helm's Deep. Rielwyn had chuckled in delight when Maethor had been given a tankard of overflowing ale but he set it aside, she listened intently whilst he spoke of his father. Rielwyn drank more of her wine till Maethor asked her of what passes in Edoras,
"All that passes in Edoras is well, Lord." She replied "Nothing troubles those here, save for occasional disputes of the residence, no troubles come. All here is well." Rielwyn looked to Maethor hoping that she had proved just as worthy in satisfying his request for news. The quiet of Edoras was tiring Rielwyn, she wished to be riding amongst the finest of Rohan. Cheer rose near to them and again random calls of hails were sounded, "How fair the fields for riding in these days?" She asked over the calls wishing to escape to the out side where she knew things were silent. Rielwyn was not sure if Maethor caught her words.
What was once a lively din had now turned into a loud racket and Maethor leaned in a little closer so he could catch what Lady Rielwyn was saying to him. He could see from the corner of his eye that the young Rohirrim were in their element and clearly enjoying the Feast, as were many of the older ones too. However there was not so much of a disturbance that was turning into a problem other than hearing another's words! He strained his ears as best he could and just about made out a few words, however something to do with her mare hiding in the fields did not seem to make much sense to him and so he figured he had misheard her.
“Forgive me, I do not believe I heard what you had said,” he apologised and looked around the room for somewhere a little quieter in which they could speak. “Perhaps if we move further back in the room or just outside the Hall?” He suggested.
As he spoke, yet another ale was thrust his direction which he caught hold of swiftly before it soaked him, his reflexes sharp from many battles fought. He laughed and shook his head, figuring it was better to just keep the ale in his hand this time.
Rielwyn also leant in to hear more closely the words of Maethor; she barely caught them as the Feast was indeed becoming more lively. Much more so then Rielwyn had seen for a long time, she looked to find Beadumód among his young Rohir, keeping them in a some what orderly way. The ale and winery had taken from a slow drawl to a quick pace and again she saw Maethor was given yet more ale and this time he made a mind to keep a hold of it.
The voices of the Rohir rose loud as though reaching for the glimmering night out side of the Hall. Rielwyn wished to be out there, in the night with the bright stars and the round moon and to see Meduseld gleaming in the moonlight behind her. That was when she caught Maethor talking once more save that she managed to hear his words well this time. With a nod of her head she called out, though still with her voice not ringing loud, "Let us move to the out side."
Maethor nodded in agreement, and slight relief as he led the way down the Hall towards the doors, careful to choose the easiest route. Once at the doors, he waited while they were opened and stood back while Rielwyn passed through, following behind her into the crisp night air.
|
|
| Princess_Greenleaf |
|
| Eveligh |
RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: May 03, 2005 05:06
|
|
( Thank you so much to Wren for Maethor! I enjoyed this post as much as I did the last! :love: )
Rielwyn stepped out into the brisk night and was at joy when the wind swept her hair from her face. As the doors were made closed behind them the sounds of merriment were silenced. The banners were streaming and made welcome noise in the night, there were beacons that sat lit close at hand and at the door stood the silent guards. Rielwyn much enjoyed the quiet of night and that now she could hear her own thoughts as well as the words of Maethor.
"I did not hear what last you said, my Lord." she gave some what an amused look and smiled glad to be in such fine company and be at last able to catch his words for only the still of Edoras and its plains were about them now.
Maethor too cast his gaze over the darkened plains, knowing almost every blade of grass that moved in the evening breeze, although he could not see them. He breathed in the fresh air and felt the familiar call to be out on the plains once again, where he truly belonged. The voices from the Hall died as the doors were closed once again and the golden shard of light swiftly disappeared, left only with the flaming torches that were around the Golden Hall to see by. He walked over to the edge and his eyes pierced through the darkness, staring into the night.
When Rielwyn spoke once again to him, he looked back and answered with a smile, "I was about to say the same thing my Lady, for it is difficult to hear even one's own voice in the midst of a Feast and I am afraid I did not catch your words either." He took a mouthful of his ale before setting it aside on the wall. "I believe the last thing I spoke of was merely that I did not hear you, so what was it that you asked me?"
Coming to stand near the edge also Rielwyn looked out as she answered,
"Indeed it was hard to catch what we ourselves spoke." She looked out over the still city below and then looking beyond to where the grasses were moving, swayed hither and thiter. The fires were often flickered wildly at the sudden coming of a wind and Rielwyn recalled what is was that she herself had last said. She turned and looked to Maethor,
"I believe," she said, "that the last I asked was, how fair the fields for riding? I seldom go for my brother wishes to have my kept safe within the walls of Edoras." There was something grave when next she smiled but then she it became brighter when she asked,
"Have you a sister, Lord?"
"The ground is soft underfoot and the horse's find it easy to gallop on, however if there is rain directed our way they shall soon become extremely slippy as they are in need of drying out some more yet," he answered, hesitating before adding, "He only wishes to see you safe and have some peace of mind that nothing ill shall befall you. It is the wish of all the Rohirrim for the ones they love." He smiled at her, as his own sister came to mind. How familiar this situation felt to him, for it was the very same between Rielwyn and Beadumód.
When she question him about a sister, a feeling of grief and remorse weighed down upon him. He looked away into the night and did not reply for several moments. He reached up and traced the shape of a star on his left arm as he thought, for hidden underneath was a tattoo of a star. Finally he answered her quietly, his eyes staring into the night, as if searching for someone. "I have one younger sister of twenty one. Her name is Mîriel."
Rielwyn was pleased to hear of the fields be they slippery or no. She delighted in his telling and then smiled some what bitterly at the talk of seeing one safe. Again when asked of a sister Maethor fell silent, for a long while neither spoke. The rustle of wind and banner filled the void and Rielwyn watched Maethor wondering what memory recalled the Marshall to silence.
Rielwyn felt some regret about her questioning, in her innocence to learn more of the Marshall she feared she had spoken wrongly. It seemed to her that his gaze searched for one lost, sweeping across the plains and bending all hope and will to find them. When he spoke again, it was with a quiet voice and Rielwyn listened well. She was left unsure of what to say, cautiously Rielwyn asked next though she doubted it would bring ease,
"Where dwells she?"
Maethor knew what questions would be heading in his direction concerning his sister, and even he had to question the answers he was about to give for he knew not what he could say. His heart would never give up hope and never cease to believe the frail chance he clung onto, yet in his mind and experience he knew all too well of the dangers of the world and how his sister's wild spirit would lead her to them. He sighed heavily and reached for his ale, now finding that he needed it. Taking a long swig he thought heavily for a few moments as to what he should say and replied gravely, his voice echoing with remorse, "I know not of where she is now or has been for the past two years." He glanced at her and his eyes met hers, "Like you, my Lady, Mîriel wanted nothing more in the world but to ride with the Rohirrim and to fight for her people. She used to plead to ride with my father and I... she would have done anything to ride with us..."
He drifted off for a few moments and reached for his ale again before finishing, "Her taste for adventure and desire for action could not be supressed for much longer than she had waited. So she left everyone and everything she loved behind her one night and ran away in search of her own adventure and that was the last we ever knew of her since."
He turned away to the plains again, staring straight out as if just by looking long enough would make his sister reappear. Her disappearance had mortally wounded him deep inside his heart as no one had ever loved his sister more than he. The relentless pain that was forever stabbing him with grief grew sharper as his haunting memories of Mîriel's disappearance returned to his mind as if it had happened only days ago.
As Maethor spoke of not knowing where his sister dwelled Rielwyn did frown till he went on and she listened with a great pity filling her and she looked on Maethor in some sadness and it shone when he caught her gaze. The gaze held whilst he spoke, and when he broke he drank and Rielwyn did also and continued to listen as he went on.
Rielwyn looked out, drinking her wine in a slow fashion for her mind wandered. There was a great deal of Mîriel's tale that Rielwyn knew too well, asking for nothing more then to ride for her King and protect her lands. Mîriel had been lost to him and Rielwyn had never known that such a restless desire could cause such a heart to break. Maethor had fallen silent and Rielwyn saw that again his gaze searched,
"I am sorry." She said not knowing more fitting words for such a loss, the loss of not knowing yet there seemed to be a hope that would not die. "I-I know not what to say, my Lord." Rielwyn felt her face flush and she looked away, she could not help but wonder what peril and adventure Mîriel had come to face and yet she felt most greatly the sadness for which Maethor and his family had suffered.
"I am sorry, my lord, do you not know where her heart may have called her?"
"You have nothing to be sorry for, my lady. The fault rests with me and my kin for not paying enough attention to her and forseeing what was to happen. I know not of where her heart may have taken her, if indeed she is taking breath as we do or I would have travelled there and found her long ago," he replied with a grave smile. He paused, unsure whether to speak his mind or not before finally continuing, "Do not feel you have to say anything; however listen to what I have told you, if you will. For you remind me of my sister, you possess the same restless spirit I believe, just remember that sometimes no matter how much you desire something, it is not always worth taking. The consequences do not only break hearts and burden those you love with grief, but they could very well prove to be the first and last adventure you will have. Defending our lands and riding out against foes is not as exciting and thrilling as it seems."
He looked away for a few moments after he spoke, feeling that maybe he was too harsh to say such things no matter how kindly he put it. It was not fair to make such a judgement of someone he barely knew as an acquaintance, no matter how he felt. Softly he mumbled, "Forgive me, it was not my place to say such things."
Rielwyn had indeed listened to what he had said, and she turned making closer to the edge. A great silence hung and in Rielwyn’s mind echoed the warning of Maethor. Her eyes were cast down and speaking her voice seemed a little choked,
“There is naught to be forgiven, lord.” She said but she looked not to him nor to the plains, but to the hems of her gown and the stone workings about it.
“I knew not that such desire could cause such hurts, such unknowing.” Rielwyn took a drink, her words within were fighting to be spoken but she dare not say them, she looked to Maethor briefly, she dared not. But then her strength of will gave and the words tumbled forth like a stream held back and then to be so suddenly released.
“I have listened, lord and I know well of what you have said. Grief is a great burden that none should carry and those that wish for nothing more then chance should know in full the burdens they would set upon their family.” She looked long to him then, her eyes gave some pleading, “Too often have I heard of ceasing my desire yet still it would burn for long did I hide it. Do not think that I have not heard your words, my lord, for I have and I see what bitterness can be brought upon family in the chasing of wants. But I wish not for my wishes to go beyond the recall of telling.” She halted then and drew breath, Rielwyn’s words had not been hot but she had found that a passion she had not felt had flamed her and she looked to him trembling slightly. Rielwyn cast her eyes to the ground,
“I am sorry.” Still she trembled and looked not to Maethor for she felt bitter of letting her thoughts come forth in such haste and to have one she barely knew receive them. “I meant not for it to come like that.”
Maethor listened carefully to what Rielwyn had said, however he was not insulted or even felt the need for her to apologise. He respected her point of view and understood how she must feel. Being a man of patience and justice, Maethor rarely ever lost his temper or allowed passing comments affect him, his temper only rising when he felt deeply about something or found the matter unforgivable. It was what made him the fair and just leader he was. He was not a quarrelsome man either and did not believe in wasting precious time by doing so.
"I did not mean for you to cease your desires, it is a near impossible thing for any man or woman to do," he answered, "Merely just to think of the serious consequences of your actions. It is something that every Rohir must do when he rides for his people. The result of everything we do not only effects ourselves but those around us too."
Finishing his ale he changed the subject, thinking it was better to move on from such a heavy topic. He had no desire to speak any further of it nor did he wish to dwell on the thoughts of his sister if he could help it. "I believe we have no need to discuss the matter any further for it has grown stale." He took one last gaze into the night before finishing, "Perhaps it is time to rejoin the feast."
Rielwyn smiled when he said that it would prove hard for man or woman to cease desire. She drank deeply from her cup as he went on, she was glad that he was not of harsh judgement. He seemed fair in all thinking and her smile grew in respect,
"Indeed it has turned stale," she agreed and she turned to look over the plains, her gaze was held there long and a sudden wind came to stir the banners. The horses of the scouts below could be heard shifting in the dark just beyond the reach of the fire light. Rielwyn turned her attention back, she felt not like returning to cheer and laughter for now she enjoyed the quiet about them but she replied:
"Let us rejoin the feast, but could we not stay here for a moment more? True our talk has turned to bitter memories but I wish not for the company of the Hall." She turned then to Maethor not knowing if he wished to truely return, "Unless, Lord, you wish to return?" She asked knowing not what they would talk about yet she would follow him whether he turned to the House of Eomer or remained here upon the stair of Meduseld.
Maethor was about to turn toward the Hall once more, however upon hearing Rielwyn's words he remained unmoved. He had felt it was time to return indoors as he was expected to remain at the feast, for at least some of the time and conversation had grown slightly difficult. However he always respected a lady's wish and so he decided to stay outside for some time longer. "Whatever pleases you, my Lady," he replied with a small smile.
The air was silent and he found himself at loss for something to say. Staring down at the stone ground beneath his feet, he desperately tried to think of something to speak of. A faint whicker was carried towards him by the wind and he looked up. "Have you a horse my, lady?" He asked suddenly, glad for the subtle inspiration.
Rielwyn face was brighten when they did not make back toward the Hall and it grew so when asked upon having a horse. She so loved her mare and felt badly for having not ridden her far.
"Aye," Rielwyn said with her gaze moving fondly toward the stables. "I have a mare, Browndomain she is called." Rielwyn's smile was fond and she was pleased to have their talk moved to more easy ground, she went on, "when premitted to ride her, I find she is of easy pace." There was a sweet scent that came on the breeze and in the dark where the scouts roamed the whinnies of horses could be heard and the shifting of their hooves. She looked to Maethor,
"What of your horse, Lord, for as Marshall you should ride the finest?"
A warm smile reached Maethor's face and his eyes lit up. "He is the finest in my eyes, although I do not believe that judgement is held by those who have to look after him, for his spirit is still wild and untamed." He laughed slightly at this, "Gildin he is named, for it means 'a silvery spark' which indeed he is. He is a silvery grey stallion and moves so fast with such a feral spirit he is like a spark. I have known him since a colt and trained him myself, as I did with my sister's horse. I prefer for the horses I train to keep their wild spirits although it is not the wish of most here as it means they are mostly unmanagable to all but their masters. I owe my life to Gildin and much more for he has saved it many a time. A true partnership and trust with your horse is really tested to the very limit out on a battlefield and none but the strongest bond will see you both through to the other side."
He stopped, releasing he was beginning to ramble, as he often did when it came to discussing horses; for he had great skill and an eye for the animals, preferring their company to people.
Rielwyn listened intently on what Maethor was now saying, his knowledge of horses was great and she minded not that he talked much of his fondness. It had intrigued her to learn that Maethor himself had trained his stallion. Drinking from her wine she smiled behind the rim,
"It sounds as though you have a true partnership with Gildin." Rielwyn said when Maethor had so suddenly fallen silent, "To have your life saved by him and knowing well that he would see no harm come to thee, that is a great partnership." Rielwyn moved closer to the fire when a bitter wind blew and she stood there slightly huddled toward it. Their talk of the Horses of Rohan was of greater ease then previous topics and so Rielwyn went on to tell of her own mare,
"I know not who trained Browndomain," Rielwyn said recalling the day the young mare had been brought to her. "She was a gift, from Beadumód, for at the time he was abroad often and thought it best if I had company other then that of the court.”
A warm smile spread across Maethor's face as he nodded in agreement, "Aye, horses can be the best of companions and I'll warrant that all the steeds here have heard more secrets than any man." He paused, an idea coming into his mind, it was a memory of old, however it made him think. He recalled days gone by, when he would return briefly to visit his family and how, if he had time, he would take Mîriel out riding with him. He did not bring her far, however he knew it brought her great joy to go out on the plains with him. He did not know if Rielwyn enjoyed such things, although he felt that she was alike his sister and how she might also appreciate such a ride.
With a slight hesitation he continued, "I would like to see your fine mare someday, my lady. If I am not bound by official duties and have some time at my leisure before I depart once more perhaps you would like to accompany me on a short ride outside Edoras when I excercise Gildin? He is a fiery tempered horse and cannot be contained by any stable for long without his wild spirit calling him to the plains. So as you can see he is a hassle to every other Rohir except myself." He gave a small laugh as familiar images flashed of angry and terrified grooms skirted past his stable hasitly so as not to get a kick or a bite.
He caught sight of Rielwyn shivering slightly and moving closer tot he flame. "Are you cold my lady?" He enquired, feeling the bitter wind picking up slightly.
"A little." Rielwyn said but soon their talk made all thoughts of the cold vanish and as Rielwyn warmed her hand by the fire she smiled brightly to Maethor,
"I would be glad to meet with such a steed, Lord and to see him on the plains and to accompany you." The winds were indeed picking up but Rielwyn cared not, she favoured this talk more then the company of the Hall at this moment. Her thoughts were moved to her mare and she knew that Browndomain grew restless as it had been the longest time since they had ridden openly. With her slightly to the side and with a fond look in her eyes Rielwyn went on about her steed in talk,
"Browndomain is easy of nature, and a kindly mare yet untrusting to those stables hand she knows not. And I agree with thee, lord, when you said that the steeds of Rohan carry more secrets then many men for at times it is Browndomains ear that will listen alone. Pleased I would be to have you meet her." Rielwyn was greatly pleased with this thought and she laughed a little and she turned to Maethor seeing about them that the banners and the cloaks of the guards were teased in the breeze.
"Are you not cold, Lord?"
"Nay, I have grown accumstomed to the cold from patrolling and living outdoors. Life can be very rough at times, especially at winter and sometimes you must spend many nights out in the wilderness." He replied before adding with a small laugh, "You learn to make sure you have a big cloak and thick clothing with you at all times and be prepared for the unexpected."
He turned their conversation back to their horses, "I greatly look forward to meeting your mare then my lady, she sounds of sweet disposition and of good breeding too I am sure." Thinking of Gildin once again he continued, "Indeed I intend to have Gildin father a few foals in time for next spring, his bloodline is of the finest and I hope for it to continue yet. I must speak with our King of what mares he has in mind to breed from this year."
He flicked his attention back to Rielwyn, too often did he speak too much of horses as he realised he was doing it again. He glanced up at the moon and realised they had been out here long and unfortunately it his attendance would be due in the Hall, as much as he was enjoying their conversation. Offering his arm to Rielwyn he proclaimed, "I believe we should return to the Hall as the hour grows late and unfortunately my presence, or lack of I should say, shall not go unnoticed for much longer."
Rielwyn took Maethor’s arm and with a pleased look she said:
“Let us return then, for I am sure Beadumód will have noticed our disappearance also.” Drawing close to the doors they were made open to the Marshall and the Lady and the sound of merriment welcomed them again. And still as before the fire roared and the ale, as ever, was flowing freely.
|
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
|
| Eveligh |
RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: June 07, 2005 05:59
|
|
(This a post between Fea and Princess!:love: Oh and with a small part myself. I am so sorry for the delay of this thread hopefully we can have it up and moving along nicely very soon!  )
The music of the hall sickened and turned stale in Eaoden's mind, mingling with his plans of hateful revenge. With one eye he kept watch on the King, waiting for the right moment to stand up and make his case. With the other eye, he carefully scanned the crowd, searching for anything suspicious. He laughed to himself at the carefree merriment of the people. One youth, in particular, almost made him laugh outright. The young man was obviously trying his best to keep people's attention on anything but himself, his mug still as full as it was when they first replenished it over an hour ago. "An easy prey", Eaoden thought cruelly, stroking the ends of his thin moustache. Indeed, the poor youth looked rather vulnerable sitting there, but Eaoden's thoughts were not sympathetic.
His watchful eye turned outwards, and for a split second his blood ran cold as the shadow of a man passed along an outer door and disappeared behind a silent pillar. Instantly, Eaoden became alert. A maiden had just entered by that door, and he watched as she made her way toward a tall Rider, partially hidden in the shadow of a wide stone hearth. He immediately recognized Beadumód, Rider of the Mark- the first man who had heard his treacherous tale of Tir. The maiden was speaking to him quite earnestly now, and a young maiden stood by his side. Eaoden's eyes rested on this younger maiden, and his lips curled into a slight smile. It was, indeed, Rielwyn, the younger sister of Beadumód, who had greeted him with a smile earlier that day when he went to tell the Marshall of Tir's treachery. She was very fair to look upon, and a plan began to awaken itself in Eaoden's mind.
His thoughts were interrupted momentarily, however, when the King rose to speak to the assembly. "Good Riders of the Mark, I bid the welcome home!" King Eomer cried, raising everyone's attention. "We have endured long, difficult, and often dangerous journeys to be here tonight, and it is our great happiness that so many have returned in good health. Now, a toast! A toast to the Riders who have assembled here this day, and also to those who are abroad, protecting our lands from those who would harm us. May we see the day of peace dawn on this fair land!" The King raised his cup, and the crowd followed his lead. "To the Noble Riders of the Mark!" they cried at once, then silence filled the hall as each man drank deeply from his cup.
Eaoden snickered to himself. He knew the terror these people would face before even the sun could rise the next day. That is, if everything proceeded the way he expected it to. And he knew Captain Ironhand well enough to know the Dunlender would act the minute he received word of Eaoden's success, word which had already been sent that afternoon. It would be an easy road from there, Eaoden thought, but he would also have to act immediately. With a considerable noise, he leapt from his place at the bench, those around him starting in surprise. In a few long strides he was beside the King, all the assembly watching him in astonishment. "Pardon me, my Lord," he said loudly to the King. "There is a case which I deem necessary to reveal this night, for it is one of great importance, and terrible sorrow." King Eomer appeared startled, but calmly waved his hand to the tall, strange looking man who had interrupted him. "And who might you be, who presents us with such a case?" he asked. "Ah, I am Eaoden, a scout from the north-eastern border," Eaoden replied strongly. "I journeyed to Edoras this very day, because I had heard news of an old friend who had been missing for years, one who owed me a great sum of money." Eaoden paused and drew his breath. This wasn't entirely a lie. He had grown up to be the very scout he now spoke of, though he had found better things to do of late. And it was true the Loren owed him more money than he himself knew, old friend or not. Eaoden checked to make sure the crowd was still attentive. The King nodded for him to continue.
"Now I come to the part I have been meaning to speak of, and believe me, good people, it gives me grief to tell it. As I drew near to Edoras, I saw a glint of spears on the horizon. In astonishment, I rode nearer, until at last I could see the battle scene clearly. My heart burned when I saw what was taking place. For there, two noble Riders were in firm combat, and before I could intervene, the lesser one fell. I then readied my armour to charge for his revenge. (For I am a man to always avenge treachery when I see it.) But before I could, the slayer spurred his horse and rode in the direction of Edoras itself. So here I come to achieve the revenge I would have lost. This man is within the city, and I swear to see justice brought upon him." Eaoden bowed his head to show that he was finished. The crowd rose to their feet, shouting and arguing among themselves. Eaoden was pleased- everything was going perfectly.
Then a man stood up silently and made his way through the crowd.
Beadumód had turned to talking amongst his company and he was glad when he saw Rielwyn take to talking gladly with the First Marshall. They had gone to speak where it was quiet and this made Beadumód smile for rarely did Rielwyn take to people. As the ale became more of a demand Beadumód found himself refusing it more often and time passed quickly. Soon he found and smiling Rielwyn beside him and in just timing for Eomer King rose and spoke and when he finished all those in the Great Hall rose their cups with his and beside Beadumód Rielwyn rose hers high.
“You are glad sister?” he asked, Rielwyn nodded,
“I am.” But before more could be spoken Eaoden came forward and asking to speak further Beadumód was alarmed to find what he spoke of. This was not such a time to speak of this matter but truth must be told, Beadumód knew well the man that had been slain, Pivarn. A rider in his host and once a dear friend. The Hall came into a great out burst and seeing that he must speak Beadumód came forward.
“My Lord Eomer!” He cried above the voices, his own company silenced but still around him many cried out for justice. Eomer rose to his feet and demanded that silence be settled,
“Tell us what you will.” Eomer said knowing well enough that Beadumód wished to speak.
“It grieves me to confirm that Eaoden speaks true,” he started hearing the gasp of few maids and the murmur of Riders, “A rider was slain and he was of my own company, Pirvan was his name and a loyal Rider to the Mark. Though I know not who could have done such evil I beg, lord, that when he be found that justice be brought upon him.”
With utter filth the words were spoken. Tirs ears heard what he had been waiting for, such accusations. He cursed in a hushed tone and stood from the shadows. His temper was reeling and his cheekbones drew hot with rage. Tir heard the commanding voice of the King and then Beadumód. He spoke of the nobles death. This unusually had given Tir grief as he had considered what had happened in the shadows. Though it was before a venomous snake cried lies.
He knew at least one soul in the collection of people believed him-he blessed the healer, Draeawen.
Draeawen thought she could feel the words of Eaoden, and then Beadumód sound with a dreadful thud, as of drums signalling the doom of a captive. Her eyes closed and her hand felt among her robes for the spear shard she had drawn from Tir's wound. Enclosing it in her hands, she looked up at Eaoden who was making mad gestures with his arms, repeating the lie over and over again. It sickened Draeawen, but she quickly began to plan what must be done. She wished her husband were there, as he could have given her an audience with the King. Such a thing would be tricky to carry out without him, of little rank except among the small circle of healers.
Eaoden raised his voice about the clamour in the hall. "Brothers! It gives me great relief to see that the people of Rohan are still concerned with the avenge of treachery. Now, to what punishment should this man be set?" "Death!" many in the crowd shouted back at once. The King stood up "Peace, peace! This rider may be guilty of the highest treason, but the King of Rohan will not condemn him to death. First we will see if his treason is true, then we will decide what punishment he deserves." A few in the crowd groaned, but most shouted their consent.
Tir's temperature rose fiercely and his head felt light-this man would pay! His temper was driving him. With one quick motion he forcefully flung the double doors open. The whole crowd fell silent and turned. He looked horrendous compared to such beauty and formally dress sirs. They were all looking at him in disgust. The first face he noticed as he strode in was the frowning King then to the side stood the rat-Eaoden. He was obviously gleeful and enjoying each moment of the crowd’s terror.
Draeawen watched Tir's outburst silently from the stone hearth. She did not think he was behaving wisely, though she understood his anger. Moving forward, she tried to get nearer to him, if only to whisper words of guidance. But the crowd had immediately enclosed the youth in a tight ring, and she was unable to break through it.
Tir marched towards the front of the crowd to Eaoden but a baffling ring enclosed his body and they held fast. Eaoden was laughing at his snare. He spoke in mirth to the crowd "And this is him-what a perfect entrance. I couldn't have planned it better." Tir shouted "I’m not guilty!" he was forceful in what he said. "Pleas from a guilty man. He wastes his breath." The crowd were shouting. The King had stood. Tir was trying his wills best to retrieve himself from the pressing circle. "You speak tripe Eaoden. Your evidence is thin." Eaoden laughed again. "You’re filth and I’m as innocent as these good people. You’re guilty of accusing wrongly. I honour the King, as you lie and bring deceit into the Kingdom!" the King raised his hand. Tir fell silent, so did the Eaoden.
"This is a feast gentlemen," he was saying. Tir laughed, Eaoden a gentleman. "Your accusations are not invited to ruin merriment. Hold your tongues for this night. No decisions can be given until all evidence is given and then we shall see whose exile." He sat not looking towards them and conversed with other nobles. Eaoden left unseen by him. Tir had lost his nerve; he was loosing what he was trying to gain. The grasp was like holding sand. The circle moved. He looked towards the wall. He sat down sighing. He was in a haze of anger. With clenched fist he bowed his tempered head.
As the hall slowly emptied, Draeawen remained in the place she had previously moved to. Tir sat not to far off, his head buried in his arms. Slowly, Draeawen approached him. "Young man, that was foolishly done." she said, as gently as possible, laying a hand on the youth's shoulder. "It was unwise to reveal your identity in such anger. It gave a bad impression from the start. These people may never know who you truly are now." "Well what did you suggest?" he didn’t look up, he knew who it was. "That man is the one who should be locked before the locks." He could feel her warmth seeping from her hand into his stiff shoulder and for one bleak moment it was a comfort.
"The healing houses will not be safe for you anymore; we must find another place for you to stay until we can escape the city. Stay here, and don't get into trouble. I will go and speak to a friend, a good woman- a healer named Liatha. She is not a native of this land, and may be willing to help you."
She left. Tir sat for a while mulling over the occasion and then saw a bottle of wine and took it unnoticed. He went outside and drank it slowly. It was dark and people passed without a second glance. Exile eh?
|
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: June 08, 2005 09:51
|
|
One youth, in particular, almost made him laugh outright. The young man was obviously trying his best to keep people's attention on anything but himself, his mug still as full as it was when they first replenished it over an hour ago. "An easy prey", Eaoden thought cruelly, stroking the ends of his thin moustache. Indeed, the poor youth looked rather vulnerable sitting there, but Eaoden's thoughts were not sympathetic.
Sitting well to the back of everyone else, Namian's brow furrowed as the unknown man turned away. Why had he been so… 'interesting' to the stranger? he wondered, and curiously followed him with his eyes. "More?" a voice sounded in his ear, and flushing, the young man glanced up. "No, thanks," he mumbled, and shook his head. "Oh, c'mon!" someone nudged his shoulder abruptly, jostling his arm, and causing Namian's drink to slosh over it's edges, and all over the table and his clothes. "These is 'drinkin' times!" the rough voice urged him, as Namian yelped, and bit back a curse at the wetting. The man's words were slurred by the other person's state of drunkenness, and grabbing the servant's arm, re-filled Namian's drink to overflowing. "'Sides… iss the King's ale!" he grinned, and then moved on.
With a sigh, the young Rider began searching for the stranger again, when the King stood up.
"Good Riders of the Mark, I bid the welcome home!" King Eomer cried, raising everyone's attention. "We have endured long, difficult, and often dangerous journeys to be here tonight, and it is our great happiness that so many have returned in good health. Now, a toast! A toast to the Riders who have assembled here this day, and also to those who are abroad, protecting our lands from those who would harm us. May we see the day of peace dawn on this fair land!" The King raised his cup, and the crowd followed his lead. "To the Noble Riders of the Mark!" they cried at once, then silence filled the hall as each man drank deeply from his cup.
Taking a small sip in honor of the King's Toast, Namian felt both 'recharged', and 'small'. He certainly didn't feel 'noble', and his one assignment under Captain Beadumód only the young man's first 'taste' of actually being part of the Rohirrim. But he was (and quite eagerly) looking forward to when they might head out again…
"Pardon me, my Lord," he said loudly to the King. "There is a case which I deem necessary to reveal this night, for it is one of great importance, and terrible sorrow." King Eomer appeared startled, but calmly waved his hand to the tall, strange looking man who had interrupted him. "And who might you be, who presents us with such a case?" he asked. "Ah, I am Eaoden, a scout from the north-eastern border," Eaoden replied strongly. "I journeyed to Edoras this very day, because I had heard news of an old friend who had been missing for years, one who owed me a great sum of money." Eaoden paused and drew his breath. This wasn't entirely a lie. He had grown up to be the very scout he now spoke of, though he had found better things to do of late. And it was true the Loren owed him more money than he himself knew, old friend or not. Eaoden checked to make sure the crowd was still attentive. The King nodded for him to continue.
"Now I come to the part I have been meaning to speak of, and believe me, good people, it gives me grief to tell it. As I drew near to Edoras, I saw a glint of spears on the horizon. In astonishment, I rode nearer, until at last I could see the battle scene clearly. My heart burned when I saw what was taking place. For there, two noble Riders were in firm combat, and before I could intervene, the lesser one fell. I then readied my armour to charge for his revenge. (For I am a man to always avenge treachery when I see it.) But before I could, the slayer spurred his horse and rode in the direction of Edoras itself. So here I come to achieve the revenge I would have lost. This man is within the city, and I swear to see justice brought upon him." Eaoden bowed his head to show that he was finished. The crowd rose to their feet, shouting and arguing among themselves.
Namian stared. It was that same man… this… 'Eaoden' who'd looked at him so strangely. What he was saying didn't make sense! No Rider would turn on his fellows! Not a true Rider… not one who had Rohan in his heart and blood!
But then, it was Beadumód who spoke, and the young man's heart chilled to hear his captain confirming Eaoden's accusation.
“A rider was slain and he was of my own company, Pirvan was his name and a loyal Rider to the Mark. Though I know not who could have done such evil I beg, lord, that when he be found that justice be brought upon him.”
Pirvan? Namian couldn't help but search through the revelers for the apparently now-dead Rider. - He'd not realized the man hadn't been around… But… why hadn't Beadumód told the Company of this? Why keep it unspoken? - Though… his Captain would (of course) be privy to knowledge and events that were unnecessary for all his Riders to know immediately - or at all, perhaps... was it not so in any hierarchy? However, confused, and upset, and more and more as he listened, Namian felt the something had to be 'wrong' here.
Eaoden raised his voice about the clamour in the hall. "Brothers! It gives me great relief to see that the people of Rohan are still concerned with the avenge of treachery. Now, to what punishment should this man be set?" "Death!" many in the crowd shouted back at once. The King stood up "Peace, peace! This rider may be guilty of the highest treason, but the King of Rohan will not condemn him to death. First we will see if his treason is true, then we will decide what punishment he deserves." A few in the crowd groaned, but most shouted their consent.
Namian kept his mouth shut. The crowd was out for blood, and heads both dulled, and hot with drink were in no shape to listen to reason. Desperately, the brown-haired young Rider tried to get closer. "Give him to us!" an older man roared drunkenly, "We'll show him how a traitor 'ought' to be treated!" "Ceorl's right!" someone else added, … and Namian realized he was standing next to his sire… and the 'someone else' was seconding his father's thirst for revenge.
"Father!" Namian grabbed his parent's arm, and tried to pull him back. "It's not our place!" he cried, and met his father's glare without a wince. "Let go, Namian!" Ceorl roared. "No!" his oldest son shook his head. Taking a firmer grip on his father's arm, the young Rider searched for - and found (miraculously) his two younger brothers… who were watching this whole thing with very wide eyes. "Werlic! Céne! Take father home, will you?" and shoved his parent towards the two. "But… we want to see what happens!" the older boy protested. "I said, take him home, now!" Namian snapped, for once 'standing up' to the three - as oldest son… oldest brother… and (even more importantly), as a Rider. "Go on!" he ordered, and pushed the three towards the door. "Move!"
It was only one person, but Namian knew how his father was… and it was with relief he saw his younger siblings drag Ceorl outside… just in time to hear the King speak again.
"This is a feast gentlemen," he was saying. Tir laughed, Eaoden a gentleman. "Your accusations are not invited to ruin merriment. Hold your tongues for this night. No decisions can be given until all evidence is given and then we shall see whose exile." He sat not looking towards them and conversed with other nobles.
After that, the crowd seemed to calm… certainly they were… 'chastened' by King Eómer's words, and the evening's festivities began to wind down. Singly, or in small groups, the revelers left the Golden Hall. There were quiet murmurings, though, and Namian didn't miss Eaoden sliding out. Tir, too, left - after a while, but the young Rider stayed put. Sinking down into a chair at an empty table, he tried to puzzle out what had just occurred, but without much luck. 'Treachery' there was… that seemed to be certain. - But whose?
When the Hall was nearly emptied, though, Namian set aside his still nearly-full tankard, and rose. Threading his way through the last of the feast-gatherers, he approached his Captain, the First Marshall, and the King. With a deep bow, he quietly thanked the Nobles for the dinner, and then left. Instead of going home, though, the young man headed for the Stables, and the peace and quiet of Firefox's stall. It was, Namian thought, as good a place as any to spend the rest of this very confusing night…
(( OOC: Ok - have made the 'assumption' that Eaoden was musing about Namian. If there's anything I need to edit, please let me know! ))
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
|
|
| Eveligh |
|
gwendethAccounts Admin, Sindarin Mod & Head Stargazer of VardaPosts: 5809 Send Message |
RE: ~Beyond Recall or Desire~ (scripted) [keep]
on: February 09, 2006 09:58
|
|
(( OOC: This is a joint post between myself and Eveligh! :hug: :love: ))
Namian was sitting quietly in Firefox's stall when he heard sounds from outside the stable. - A 'disturbance' of some sort, amongst the horses picketed outside.
Jumping up, the young Rider looked around for any of the stable-hands. But, seeing none, and supposing them to be off somewhere 'recovering' from the effects of Eomer King's ale, he decided to investigate for himself.
And, while he was very relieved to see no thieves about, Namian spotted his Captain's sister taking a quite-upset Browndomain from the mare's place.
And, well knowing the animals that Rohan was so dependent on, Namian could tell the horse was reacting to her mistress' own emotional state.
The night was growing deeper and Eaoden’s words bitter and haunting in the mind of Rielwyn. All was still now save for the wind as it roused the banners further. The moon was old and the stars were dimming in the sky. The steeds tethered before Meduseld were restless from the passing of Rielwyn, as she had fled Eaoden. Her intentions had been to seek the stables yet fear that he may follow swayed such notion and Rielwyn went now toward the gates. Though the night was old now still the guards were stationed and the scouts patrolled. In light of the torches the shadows of mounted scouts played as the hooves of horses made light noise on the ground under foot.
Upon riding toward the gates Rielwyn did not cross paths with patrols and for this she was grateful. Breathless she halted here before the open gates and looked out over the plains as she did so often now. The plains of Rohan were bathed in the shine of the moonlight and the grasses swayed catching the shine as they did so. But she saw none of this for her mind was in a torment of the words she had heard that night. So many had there been and so many with great meaning and they swam about her mind in a dizzy way. Rielwyn branded herself a fool for speaking to Eaoden as she had and with such a thought she turned from the gate and the view it afforded. At a restful pace she came to the stables and if any were within she did not see for quickly she set her mare to rest and left.
Within the house Rielwyn found it to be cool and dark on her arrival. Quickly did she set the torches alight and rekindled the fire and soon the shadows had fled the house. She longed to wait for Beadumod but knew he would be tired of questions and she herself had near tired of asking them. And so knowing that Beadumod had wished her to rest Rielwyn made ready for sleep.
Brooding to himself over the evening's occurrences, Namian settled back down into Firefox's stall. - And, before long, he heard Rielwyn return her mount to the Stables. - Yet, he made no sound of his presence... and besides, it was Beadumod he needed to speak to.
Thinking that by now his Captain would be back at home - for the night was far past the hour for slumber, Namian gathered his courage and made his way there. - Upon reaching the door, however, it took one or two moments more before he actually knocked.
"Sir?" he called softly - so as not to disturb Beadumod's sister, should she already be asleep. "Sir - it's Namian! - May I speak with you?"
And, nervously chewing on his lower lip, Namian waited for the door to be opened...
Laying herself down to sleep Rielwyn had found that her mind was far more active as she lay in the dark, the light from the fire in the sitting room danced upon the hall floors in a glowing way. The thoughts that played in her mind now would not permit Rielwyn to sleep and when at last it came it was troubled and restless. Ever would the image of the open plains loom before her and yet they would shift in a strange manner to things she wished not to see. And with this, Rielwyn woke with a start.
Rising from the bed and taking her cloak Rielwyn made toward the kitchen, her throat was dry and when she came to the kitchen Rielwyn looked from the window. It appeared that sleep had been short lived for the sky seemed little changed outside. Moving from the window Rielwyn searched for the water jug in light of the fire and as she reached for a cup she was startled by the gentle knock at the door. Her heart leapt in a panic 'til she heard whom it was that called and putting aside the jug she went to the door. On reaching the door Rielwyn stood a moment and she knew not why, but she braced herself before she opened it slightly. In doing so it granted Rielwyn the sight of the young rider waiting upon the stair.
Namian she had heard his name to be and it was with some relief that she answered his call for Beadumod.
“I am sorry Namian,” She spoke clearing her throat, “but Beadumod has yet to return from the Hall. Might you call on the morrow or should you wish to wait for him? Though I know not when he should return.”
Flushing, Namian cleared his throat, too. "Ahem, f-forgive me f-for d-disturbing you, mi-milady!" he stammered, and lowered his eyes for a moment. "I - I'm not certain..." he went on, and sighed.
Feeling like he had to speak to someone, "I... well... *you* were 'there' tonight!" the young Rider blurted. "Something isn't 'right' about all this!" Namian couldn't stop, now that he'd started. "Tir can't be a 'spy'! - I don't know him... but - but - I just 'feel' it isn't so! - And - and, I just wanted the Captain to know..."
Biting his tongue, Namian paused, and blushed deeply. "F-forgive me," he apologized again, "Just... will you tell your brother I was here?" he asked, and with a bow, turned to leave...
Watching as Namian turned Rielwyn had a mind to keep silent, she was tired and had thought her questions for the evening had fled her. Yet she could not help but speak,
"Something is indeed amiss." She said, "Something I cannot name." And Eaoden's prideful words came to her and she was frowning.
Halted by Rielwyn's words, Namian turned back. "Nor can I, milady," the young Rider agreed, and sighed. "'Tis the reported death of Pirvan that troubles me, especially," he added. "Until it was 'announced' - no word came to *any* of the Riders regarding it. *You* know how we honor our fallen, milady! We do so as quickly as we can! - But..." and Namian shrugged.
"Not much time was given for my brother to give this word, but I know not why he did not share these tidings with his company when he had chance." Rielwyn said this lifting her gaze to the Hall and saw how silently it sat. Turning her gaze to Namian, Rielwyn offered the door for him to enter.
"I think such things are best spoken of within the house for who knows what could be heard." And she waited for him to enter for though they spoke in quiet their words were in chance of being carried to unfriendly ears.
Flushing slightly, Namian nodded, and bowed. "It is dark days when one fears to speak in the open, milady," he sighed, and nervously sat on the edge of the chair he was waved to. "If... you don't mind," the young Rider hesitated, and shyly, "What draws *you* to misgivings?" he asked.
Closing the door behind Namian, Rielwyn turned to the kitchen and drew herself and Namian cups of water. Drinking deeply as Namian took his seat and asked his question Rielwyn found she could not sit. She thought for a moment and then,
"Do you know much of Eaoden? I believe him to be a ride in Beadumod's company." She questioned avoiding answering his for a moment longer.
Shaking his head, "No, milady," Namian answered firmly, "He is not, or I *would* know of him... but I've never seen him before tonight." Pausing for a moment, "What Eaoden spoke tonight was for ill," he told his Captain's sister. "Such things - if they are 'true'... and if a *Rider* has the best interest of all in mind, should be discussed in private. Why 'warn' a possible spy one is suspected of such? Proof should be garnered *first*! SOLID proof... and then a questioning. - But tonight..." with a sigh, Namian remembered how Eaoden had 'sneered' at himself, yet did not mention it. "You spoke with him - didn't you, milady?" he then asked.
Listening intently to Namian, Rielwyn found that she agreed with what it was he spoke of. Whilst he had spoken, Rielwyn had seated opposite him. But it was his question that sent her heart racing within. It raced in a fear she wished to kill and she looked to Namian suddenly.
"I spoke with him, yes." Rising then Rielwyn paced a moment before she took another drink. "But it was of matters not concerning the Feast."
Watching Beadumod's sister pacing, and remembering Browndomain's 'nervousness', Namian could well see it was something 'troubling' to her. "If you wish not to speak of it, milady," the young Rider said, "It is your business. - But... I am a good 'listener'... if bad with words..." he offered.
Halting Rielwyn smiled kindly to the Rider but dare she speak again what had been spoken of with Eaoden? Strange had been that talk and it woke a new worry in her.
"We spoke of many things. He is an ill man!" She declared keeping her voice steady with a great effort. But she did not wish to bring her thought or want for Riding on another this night.
"He is indeed," Namian nodded, and then sighed. "I think..." he went on slowly, "he is one we must not trust... and that's what I wanted to tell my Captain. (no problem!) If you will tell him I was here, I will seek him out in the morning. I have disturbed you enough, for tonight, milady," the young Rider added, and rising, gave Rielwyn a bow.
"Disturbed me you have not Namian." Rielwyn replied, “But true it is that you have brought more questions to my mind regarding Eaoden. It is agreed that he is not to be trusted.” Making for the door Rielwyn again smiled as she then opened it for him, a breeze entering as she did so.
“I shall inform Beadumod that you called, I know not how long he shall be in council, for it is my guess that he would be in a foul temper and wishing to speak with Eomer King. This night has been most strange.”
"Stranger than any of us may think... if ills befall us without considering what was said tonight with clear heads," Namian sighed. "Good even, milady..." and with that, the young Rider took himself off home.
"Tolo si, a tiro i cherth Eru"
"Come now, and see the works of God"
|
|
Author
)
))[/size]
*