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Eärendils_Beloved
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Post *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 02, 2005 01:52
*Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot*
((free, but please keep the plot and setting in mind. Please post decent sized posts that further the story, no one liners, one or two paragraphs preferred. The Steward is free for the taking.))

Five hundred years have passed since the War of the Ring. The wounds made by Sauron have long healed. Though much light and beauty has passed away with the leave taking of the Elves, much has been restored. The folk of Middle Earth are free to live without fear of the Shadow. The Dominion of Men has come full circle. The glory of the Kings of Men has not burned so bright since the days of Númenor and the heirs of Aragorn Telcontar have ruled the Reunited Kingdom for many generations. But now that bliss has shattered…
The High King is dead, and rumor says it was not the accident it appeared to be…
~***~
The glittering visage of Minas Tirith stood in stark contrast to the low grey sky that poured countless tears on the City of Kings. The whole of heaven seemed to weep for him. The streets were silent and deserted. The only folk to be seen were the Wearers of Black and Silver, the Guards of the Citadel, who stood motionless in the pouring rain.
Far below the Tower Hall, behind Fen Hollen, stood a child. The Hallows echoed with her weeping as she stood there, swathed in a gown the color of midnight. A slender circlet of mithril rested on her head, glittering in the sad torch light. The child was none other than the Lady Elestirnë, the only child of King Elendur, High King of Gondor and Arnor. She wept bitterly as she stood at the foot of the tomb. Her father’s tomb.
Only twelve summers old, the young Elestirnë was now alone in the world. Her mother, Queen Faelwen had leapt to her death, driven mad with grief over the death of her lord and king, leaving her only child alone.
To darken her fate, King Elendur had no other heir to speak of; no son, no brother, no nephew. The fate of his kingdom now rested on the shoulders of his twelve-year-old daughter.
***

The mood about the palace had been one of shock and grief for the past week, but that now began to change, roiling into tension. The fate of a kingdom was at stake, indeed the fate of Middle Earth itself.
Within the Tower Hall, the late king’s advisors had gathered. The discussion had quickly escalated to an argument that rang through the hall. Even those who deigned not to raise their voices where clearly at their wit’s end.
“Elestirnë alone has claim to the throne of Gondor. No one here can deny that.” said the Steward. He could hardly believe his eyes and ears, for it seemed that defending his sovereign was a losing battle. Much to his bewilderment, few seemed to have faith in Elestirnë. The Steward did, he reflected, have some claim to the governance of this kingdom. Had that not ruled over it when the King had fallen in times passed? But he could not claim the throne unless the fallen King was childless.
“My Lord Steward,” said another, “she is only a child. She is still tended by a nurse-maid for pity’s sake! She has not the means to govern.”
“That is not for us to decide.” the steward said hotly. “Elestirnë has been raised to rule from the cradle. With guidance, she will become a monarch.”
“And until then?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thoronhael, young lore master’s apprentice and teacher of the king’s household, stood alone in the great library of Minas Tirith. Sighing raggedly, he dragged his eyes from the window and looked about. The library lay in musky dimness, lit only by a torch on the far wall and a tiny lamp that cast its meager light only on the table where in sat.
With slow exhausted steps, Thoronhael trudged over to that table and gazed at the loose leaves of parchment strewn over it.
What’s this?
Reaching, he gently pulled a sheet out from under the others.
On the fine vellum, his young pupil had scrawled over and over again, practicing her penmanship. Repeatedly, young Elestirnë had signed her name in the mode of the ancient Númenoreans, in the manner of a queen:
Tar Elestirnë
Tears stung his eyes and he turned away.
How did it come to this?

***

The Steward walked swiftly down the corridor of the Royal Apartments, seeking his young queen. He reached a familiar door and knocked softly.
"The Steward here to see Queen Elestirnë."
The door opened to reveal Ivoreth, Elestirnë’s nurse-governess. Her round face, the Steward now saw, was devoid of its usual smile and she looked quite cross.
She curtsied.
“M’lord, I’m sorry, but Elestirnë is not here, and has not been for some time”
“Where is she, governess?” asked the Steward.
“Last I heard, she had locked herself in the Hallows.” said Ivoreth, shaking her head
“She has gone from there now.”
“Then might I ask you, Lord Steward, to stop bothering here and search for her?” said Ivoreth saucily. Clearly he had outstayed his welcome in the woman’s domain. He did feel a bit miffed, however, that the woman should address the Steward of Minas Tirith in such a forward manner, until he remembered that Ivoreth was now head of the household since Queen Faelwen’s death.
“Forgive me, governess.”
____________________________

Thoronhael walked swiftly under the terrace’s stone arches, headed for the Tower Hall, when he spotted his young queen in the courtyard. The rain had stopped and the storm was whipped apart to reveal patches of blue sky. Clouds muted the sun’s light.
Elestirnë stood on the edge of the great stone ledge whose base, carved from the bones of the mountain, rose like a massive ship’s prow out of the earth. Her back was turned to him and her form was still.
Thoronhael stood agonizing for a long moment, wanting to say something, but not daring to do so. His heart leapt into his throat as he stood there and a silent dread crept over him.
Not five days earlier, Elestirnë’s mother, Queen Faelwen had stood in that same spot and being startled by an unexpected word from Thoronhael, she had thrown herself from the cliff and fallen to her death.
Thoronhael was spared the painful ordeal when Elestirnë turned from her reverie and walked back towards him. She didn’t seem to notice him and stopped before coming too near. She stood on the edge of the circular green lawn, gazing up at the White Tree. It was high spring and the Tree was in full blossom. Each bloom looked to be wrought of pearl and shed rain from its petals like drops of liquid crystal. The Tree alone it seemed, showed no signs of grief, but stood as stately and glorious as ever on its emerald sward.
Thoronhael came forward slowly and cautiously until he and his child queen stood opposite each other.
“It mocks me.” he heard her say. It was a voice entirely unlike her own. Contorted by grief and contempt, it seemed to come from another world.
It was then that she looked on him for the first time since he’s spotted her. Her gray eyes shown with tears, but none fell.
Thoronhael opened his mouth to speak, but could find nothing worth saying.
Without another word, Elestirnë walked around the lawn and past him. The teacher followed at a respectful distance.
Tutor and pupil left the courtyard and entered the Royal Apartments in silence.
Elestirnë walked slowly down the hall and into one of the rooms.
It was a study of sorts, furnished with a huge desk and an ornate chair. Tapestries hung on the west wall and a large bank of soaring windows graced the east.
The door was left ajar as the maiden floated to a window. She said nothing, but stared out to the horizon in utter silence.
Thoronhael stood helplessly for an instant before turning to leave. It was then that he saw the Steward walking towards him; they met on the threshold. Thoronhael nodded in respectful reverence.
“I take my leave.” He said with a quick bow and passed out of the door and down the hall.
The Steward stood unnoticed for a long moment before Elestirnë turned towards him.
Now that a black veil no longer hid her features, the steward saw how pale and fragile she looked. While still terribly young, there seemed to be something aged about her now, with lifeless eyes that looked out at the world. Rimmed with dark circles, the only light there now was the glistening of tears, as if the child’s soul had withered.
Elestirnë wore no crown or coronet and her dark tresses hung loose about her tiny frame. The hem of her dark gown pooled on the floor at her feet. There was something horrifying about Elestirnë’s appearance for the man that had known the princess since the day she was born. No longer was Minas Tirith graced with the light of a cheerful, beautiful child who flitted about in white or the fair colors of spring and whose laugh could charm a beast. Instead she was replaced by this shadow of youth who seemed to be fading before their eyes.
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 02, 2005 10:41
OOC: Hullo, I'm Arwyn daughter of Elladan, I stayed in Middle Earth, I wander, but am very close to the family of the Kings, so I have returned to Minas Tirith with the news of King Elendur's death.

Arwyn had finally made it to Minas Tirith, the ride from the nearby town of Barinn seemed twice as long as usual. She was known far and wide in Minas Tirith as one of the last elves left in Middle Earth, and she was loved by them also for her constant help with the Royal Family.

But this, King Elendur dead, and Queen Faelwen leaping to her death, leaving poor Elestirne alone, to rule the country at 12 years of age, broke her heart. This was something that might actually settle Arwyn down. Arwyn is a wanderer, she has been forever, since she was old enough to leave home.

Arwyn stabled her horse Telen in the Royal stables and made sure he was tended to. She raced up the levels of the citadel, and found herself standing in front of the White Tree of Gondor. She laid a hand over her heart, and said a lament in Elvish, ironically the same lament she had said when her dear King Elessar died. Her elvish was terrible, it had the sound of not being spoken in a while.

She made her way through the Royal Court to find her dear Elestirne. She stopped a handmaid, "Could you please tell me where to find Queen Elestirne?"
The maid curtsied, "She should be in her study, Lady Arwyn."
Arwyn quickly made for the study that she had spent much time with Elestirne in. She repeated Queen Elestirne over and over in her head, it just sounded strange, a girl of 12 years having to rule a kingdom, it almost brought her to tears, but she knew she must be strong for Elestirne.

Arwyn found the door, just as she came to it, a man was coming out. Arwyn acted as though she was supposed to be there, and obviously the man knew who she was, because he said nothing, only passed her by. Arwyn took a deep breath and knocked on the door before entering. "Elestirne?" She said as she entered, but the Elestirne before her eyes could not be her dear Elestirne, the gaunt pale girl before her who's eyes looked many years older than her body, could not possibly be the dear child.
Telemnar
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 03, 2005 07:36
((OoC: Hi there EB. Hope you don’t mind if I grab the part of the Steward.)

The Steward waited silently until the young girl turned toward him, and then began to speak. “Elestirnë, my Queen,” he said gently. Calling her by this title did not yet come instinctively to Harandor, and he had made it a point with himself to use the girl’s title, almost as a way of affirming his support for her in the council. Elestirnë must have heard the Steward speak but she gave no sign, not even lifting her downcast eyes. Harandor paused awkwardly, wondering if this was really the time to speak to her of such matters. But this was the very purpose that he had come to her for, and having started the Steward knew he must continue.

Before he could carry on, Elestirnë raised her lowered head slightly and asked a simple “Yes?” Harandor felt slightly relived. Even in her grief, she would still listen and pay attention for the moment. In a quiet voice the Steward continued,

“I know that all the realm is in grief and sorrow, but none more than you. I understand that the time for mourning has not yet past and that you will carry this pain with you, forever, but as Steward it comes to my duty to speak to you of your kingdom. My Queen, you are descended from the line of Elessar, but never in the three-and-a-half thousand years of our history has Gondor been ruled by one so young.” Elestirnë’s eyes had sunk back down to the floor, and Harandor worried that he was losing his listener, but he continued, “Our people are anxious, and those who have some doubt speak openly in the council.” Some doubt… In his heart the Steward knew it was something more than that, but he had no evidence, and did not wish to trouble Elestirnë with his suspicions. The bare facts seemed troubling enough. “There comes a time,” Harandor went on, hoping that it did not sound like he was trying to lecture her, “when a ruler must sacrifice even her grief for her people. I would suggest that you affirm to the people who you are by taking up your father’s crown…”

The Steward got no farther, as a choked sob burst from the small girl. Too late Harandor realized that he should have avoided directly mentioning her father. Glistening tears began to trickle down Elestirnë’s pale cheeks, and he knew that it was time for him to depart. “I take my leave” he whispered, and bowing low the Steward went quietly. Wandering through the almost empty halls of the palace, Harandor wondered how much of what he said Elestirnë had really absorbed. He had tried to understand her, but he was an old man; and she was such a young girl. It would have been different had her mother lived. But now Elestirnë was alone, lost in her own anguish and surrounded by distrust.

After a short time of slow walking through the palace Harandor spotted a familiar figure standing in one of the side corridors. It was a dark haired man, about forty years of age, wearing the black cloak and ornate armor of a high ranking soldier of Gondor. Harandor managed a slight smile. “My son.” he greeted.

“Father.” the younger man replied, and returned the smile.

“I was meaning to see you today about the Southern borders.” Harandor told his son. “You should reinforce the garrisons in South Gondor and put them on alert. Some of the Haradrim tribes may rise up and raid the border towns when they hear that King Elendur has died.”

“When they hear that a twelve year old child sits on the throne!” the younger man cut in, his voice filled with thinly veiled distrust and contempt. Without another word he turned and walked swiftly down the corridor. Harandor stood still in disbelief, tightly gripping his white staff.

“Even my own son.” he muttered.
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 04, 2005 10:27
Arwyn got no response from Elestirnë when she called her name. So she sat down in the corner, almost out of sight to people entering and exitting the room. She wanted to be there for Elestirnë when she was ready to talk.

After sitting in silence for what seemed to be eternity, the Steward of Gondor walked into the room. He didn't even notice that Arwyn was there. He spoke to Elestirnë, but got no more of a response than Arwyn did. Arwyn went back to her reading as the Steward spoke to the young girl. Arwyn looked up quickly as she heard Elestirnë burst into tears, then the Steward left.

The girl collapsed on the floor with sobs. Arwyn could not even imagine the grief and agony the child was experiencing. Arwyn slowly laid her book down. She sat on the floor next to the sobbing child and stroked her hair. "You know, Elestirnë, I remember when your father was crowned." Arwyn smiled as she remember how jittery Elendur had felt when he got word he would be king, "He was scared, just as you, he was still grieving the death of his father at his coronation, but he had to put that aside and rule all of Gondor and Arnor." The girl suddenly stopped crying. "He was a wonderful king, and you will make a wonderful Queen."

Elestirnë looked up at Arwyn's face. In a voice a little more than a whisper she said, "I have heard this story, please, tell me another Aunt Arwyn." Arwyn smiled and thought. Deep back into her memories she thought of a certain king, one she definately had heard of, but no one alive now, save Arwyn knew him personally. "This is the account of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor." Elestirnë sighed, "I have heard this story." Arwyn grinned, "Not told me you haven't." Arwyn continued. "Long ago, Aragorn was born to Gilraen and Arathorn. His father died when he was only two years old, his mother fled with him to Rivendell, home of Elrond Halfelven, my grandfather. She thought in Rivendell he would be safe, perhaps have his royal lineage hidden from him. He was given the name Estel, which is the elvish word for 'hope'."

Arwyn continued, "Now, what you must understand is that the line of Kings was broken many years ago, by Isildur son of the last King Elendil, when he was tempted by the ring of power, he took the ring, and he was killed by orcs, servants of Sauron, the only Lord of the Ring. The only person who would be able to reunite the kingdom of Gondor, was a direct descendent of Isildur. Aragorn was the last remaining descendant of that line."

"Aragorn was 20 when he met Arwen, daughter of Elrond, my aunt. He had just come to know of his lineage when he met her. He fell completely in love with her. Elrond told him he could not marry her or any woman until he was found worthy. So Aragorn left, went out into the Wild to prove himself. Aragorn came back 24 years later, to marry Arwen. But Elrond said that Arwen was to marry no one less than the King of all Gondor and Arnor." At this point Elestirnë's eyes, though still clouded with grief had some of their old luster in them. "What happens next?" She pleaded.

"I'm getting there. So, Aragorn went back into the Wild. Many years later, he met a young Frodo Baggins in Bree. He had been notified by his good friend Gandalf the Grey that this hobbit would be coming. And henceforth the entire story of the Fellowship of the Ring came. I will not bore you with that story again, you have heard it many times. Now back to the romance." Elestirnë smiled a weary smile, but a smile nonetheless. "As the battles for Middle Earth became more and more feirce, Elves began to leave Middle Earth. Elrond had a ship ready to bear Arwen to Valinor, where all the Elves were going to live for eternity. Half-way there, Arwen turned back, she knew her father had seen a vision of her son, her son with Aragorn. She convinced her father to let her stay, actually she just stayed. Forsaking her immortal life to be with Aragorn forever, not even knowing if Aragorn was alive or dead. After the battle of Mordor, the one where the Ring was destroyed, Aragorn was made King, and at his coronation Arwen was presented to him, to be married, he had passed the tests of Elrond, and was finally given the woman he loved. He ruled the kingdom of Gondor for over 100 years, then his son Eldarion took the throne. And the line continues to you. You are of royal blood Elestirnë. Do not be afraid of it, as Aragorn was."

Arwyn finished her speech and Elestirnë was silent.

OOC: sorry, I hope you don't mind that I said a few lines for Elestirnë, if so I'll edit it out..
Sigilien
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 05, 2005 02:33
The word of the death of king Elendur reached the ears of a healer in Rivendell. Knowing that that same king had a child at the same age as his son, he knew how terrible the child must feel, for not long ago, his beloved Rhuanion has lost his mother. The childs eyes were still darkened by the death of his mother and the man knew that Elestirne had that same darkness inside of her.
A few days later, the news that the girls mother died also, made the man unable to sit still, doing nothing.

That healer was the ruler of Rivendell, the son of Elrond.
The Lord called his son at his side and spoke to him in his study. 'Dear Rhuanion, have you heard of the king of Gondor?' The boy nodded slowly. 'And do you understand that I can't sit still while a young girl is grieved by the death of both her parents?'
'No father, I do not.' The boy replied.
The father smiled and explained. 'I know the grief that the girl is feeling, and I can't do anything, for I have Rivendell and can't leave her alone. So I need you to comfort her, and maybe she can comfort you in return, for you share the same grief as her.'
'But father, why must I go to her, and not a child from Minas Tirith who shares the same unfortune as her?'
'The rulers of Minas Tirith and Rivendell always were allies, and good friends, so it might be appropriate to show our grief and compassion to the girl.'
'Then I must go to Minas Tirith?'
'That would mean a great deal to me.'
'Then I'll go, father.'

So it was that Ruanion left the morning after the conversation and went on his way to Minas Tirith, with offcourse a few people to look after him.


He walked up the stairs of the palace and stopped in front of the door of the young queen. The maid curtsied and left him. There he was, a twelve year old boy, who was being sent to Minas Tirith to help a young queen. And he had no idear what to do.
He knocked on the door and opened it a few seconds later. It was a surprise to him that he saw Arwyn sitting there, the daughter of his fathers brother. Elestirne looked up at him and smiled weakly, he recognised the darkness in her eyes, and she problably recognized his.
'Goodday, Queen Elestirne. I was sent by my father, Lord of Rivendell, to aid you in whatever way I can.' Rhuanion said and he smiled back at her.
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 05, 2005 10:23
Arwyn continued to comfort Elestirnë. She allowed the child to cry on her, she would rub her back and stroke her hair until she thought it would be impossible for the child to cry another tear. Elestirnë slept for a little while. While Arwyn was reading. At one point Arwyn went outside for a breath of fresh air while Elestirnë was still asleep. She returned a few moments later to find the child rocking on her bed crying. Arwyn rushed to her side, "Child," She took her in her arms again, "Shhh, that's it. Let it all out." Elestirnë muffled her sobs as she pushed her head into Arwyn's chest. "I thought you had left me..." She broke into tears again. Arwyn stroked her hair as she rocked her, "Oh dear, I would never leave you."

After Elestirnë was comforted and composed again, Arwyn went back to her reading. Just as she did, someone knocked and came into the room. Arwyn looked up and saw that it was Rhuanion her cousin. 'Goodday, Queen Elestirne. I was sent by my father, Lord of Rivendell, to aid you in whatever way I can.' He said. Elestirnë managed a thank-you then he caught sight of Arwyn and looked surprised. "Elestirnë would you excuse us? I need to speak with my cousin." Elestirnë nodded.

Arwyn got up and beckoned for Rhuanion to follow her outside. "You look surprised to see me cousin." Arwyn said smiling. "You did not know that I am very close to the royal family?" Arwyn laughed, "Come here." And Arwyn grabbed the young boy in an embrace. "Sorry I haven't been to Rivendell lately, but I have had business in Mirkwood, and then this." Arwyn was silent for a moment. "How is my Taid Ada*?" Arwyn waited for a response.

OOC: Again, if it bothers you that I speak for Elestirnë in a few lines, I will edit!

*taid ada means second father it is a nickname that Arwyn gave Elrond, because there is not elvish word for grand-father.

[Edited on 5/5/2005 by DFK6498]
Sigilien
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 06, 2005 06:33
[The son of Elrond is Rhuanion's father]

Arwyn hugged him tightly, and Rhuanion smiled biterly. It reminded him of his mother. 'Have you not heard?,' He asked, and tears filled his eyes. It was the first time he spoke to a relative, besides his father since...
'Mother died.'
His eyes were still watery, but no tear fell, he was the silent type.
'That is also the reason why I am here. I know what the girl is feeling, and Ada says I can help her. Although I do not know how.'
He slumped down on the stairs with his arms around his knees. 'I'm scared. I miss her.'
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 06, 2005 09:23
((hello everyone! And welcome! Thanks for joining! Just a tidbit Tel, in case you didn’t know, the steward’s son most likely holds the title, among other things, of Captain of the Guard of the Citadel. What’s the son’s name, by the way?))


When Arwyn and the young visitor had vacated the room, Elestirnë found herself once again alone. As she turned away from her bed to move towards the window, she chanced to catch a glimpse of her own reflection in the looking glass. The child froze, startled.
Elestirnë did not recognize the girl in the mirror and could only gape at the image in morbid fascination.
The fragile, pale, disordered maiden that stared back at her, draped in folds of black, could not possibly be Faelwen’s fair child.
Tentatively, she raised her hand toward the mirror. Elestirnë and the reflection touched fingertips. The young royal flinched and pulled away. Terrified by her own image, Elestirnë turned from the mirror. Tears stung her eyes, but she brutally forced them back.
Slowly, deliberately, the girl forced herself into a chair. Taking up a brush, she methodically began to untangle her dark locks. When she could finally run a brush through them, Elestirnë pulled the locks nearest to her face back and braided them into small braids, one on the right and one on the left, and tied them back with a dark ribbon so they formed a sort of circlet around the back of her head.
The girl splashed her face with cold water from the silver basin at her bedside and dried it with a linen cloth.
Rising, she straightened her long black gown. Steeling herself, Elestirnë turned again to face the mirror.
She was relieved when the queen’s daughter greeted her there. Or at least some semblance of her, if you disregarded the eyes. Though somber and without adornments, it was noble maiden that looked back at her now.
Without another thought, Elestirnë vacated the chamber, intent on finding the Steward.
She found him on the stone terrace outside his apartments. When she first caught sight of him, his back was to her, his hands clasped behind him. He stood looking westward, towards the now lowering sun.
She didn’t want to disturb him, but she was so urgent to get through this ordeal before she lost her composure, that she did it anyway.
“My Lord…”
The soft words apparently startled the Steward, but not as much as the sight of his young queen. For a brief moment he could only stare, and then he came to his senses and bowed low.
“My Queen.”
Harandor was immediately dismayed by the look of distress that came over the girl when he spoke. He could not help but see the resemblance between her expression and that of a lost lamb.
“Please don’t call me that…” Elestirnë whispered.
Words of protest were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back.
The child came closer, reluctantly, by all appearances. Harandor saw that she was trembling. The man knelt so he could look her in the eye.
“I beg your forgiveness, dear Steward. You were right; I cannot hide from the world forever. I cannot leave this kingdom in limbo any longer. As to the rule of this kingdom, I shall accept the office, as is my birthright and my duty. But the crown itself, the Winged Crown of Gondor, I will not claim. It shall await a King.”
She paused here, struggling with the royal dignity she had apparently forced upon herself.
“Never before have I been witness to a meeting of the White Council. Its functions and proceedings were part of my schooling, but they were never to be any of my concern, as they were not even the concern of my mother. And I must confess, I would not know how to conduct myself if I was present, but I shall need all council that is available to me. I beg your help, my lord.”
She asked merely for his help, but it took every once of her self control not to fall on her knees and beg for him to assume lordship of the city.
Harandor looked at his child queen in wonder. Her first words had been of wisdom, far beyond her years at that. But he saw now that all though her words were spoken with dignity, the voice that spoke them was a child’s voice, the voice of a frightened little girl.


[Edited on 11/5/2005 by Eärendils_Beloved]
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 06, 2005 03:51
Arwyn gasped, "Rhuanion..." She trailed off. She felt horrid that she had been away from Rivendell so long that she didn't even know that Rhuanion's mother, her own Aunt had died. "Oh dear, I am so sorry that I was not there to help your father and you, but you know how my life is. But now, you are not afraid of death. And take this from someone who lost their mother early in life, pain is only temporary, but regret lasts forever." Arwyn paused as she pondered the words she had just spoken, it was amazing how she could tell someone how to live their life, but she couldn't even make hers work. Rhuanion looked puzzled, so Arwyn explained, "When my mother died, I was probably 25 or 30, she had taken me to Mirkwood to meet her family, and we had never left. I didn't really know ada nin, but after she died, I went out, into the Wild, away from everyone who loved me, because I thought that my father didn't care about me. Because he hadn't come after me, when my mother left." Arwyn shook her head in disbelief of her own self. "Then after a long while of travelling aimlessly, I finally went to him. But the truth was, he didn't even know where we were. Anyway, where I am going with this is, I thought I would never get over the pain of her death, but I did, but I still after all these years have not gotten over how I treated my father. Don't make stupid mistakes Rhuanion, you are smarter than I." Arwyn smiled a tussled his hair. "So, you father sent you here, I wonder what my Uncle would say if he knew that Arwyn Meluimiel was here." She smiled, "I will return to Rivendell with you when you depart from here, just to see how things are. How does that sound?"

Arwyn waited for a response.
Sigilien
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 07, 2005 01:59
Rhuanion smiled.
'That would be nice, but I can't go back yet. I cannot go back to Father when I did nothing for the girl yet. Arn't we leaving her alone too long? Anyway... I must help her before I return.'
He looked at the door and saw it was open. 'She is not there. Where is she?'
Telemnar
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 13, 2005 09:23
((OoC: Sorry it took so long to get back and post, I was having computer problems. And just to clarify things a bit EB, the son that I had written about is the Steward’s second son, so he wouldn’t have the title of Captain of the Citadel.))

“My Queen.” the Steward replied, “I shall give you whatever council that you desire to hear. But my first advice shall be to seek another trusted counsellor, one who is younger than myself. I am an old man and although I am still hale, it may be that I shall not live to see you come of age to fully rule. When I am gone you must have someone else whom you can look to.” Although such things had to be spoken of, Harandor was worried that talk of death would further upset Elestirnë . But the girl stood firm and listened, making a brave effort not to break down. “Do not fear the future.” Harandor told her gently, “Remember always to trust yourself.”

“And as to the Council,” he went on, switching topics, “I advise that you appear before them as soon as possible, tomorrow if you wish. Speak to them as you have just spoken to me: with courage and strength, and without pride.” The Steward paused. Elestirnë had asked for advice on what to say to the Council, but Harandor did not what she should speak himself. King Elendur’s advisors had seemed loyal to the line of the kings while he had lived, but now they were doubtful, and in some ways almost resentful of Elestirnë. Or was it the Steward’s defence of her that they really resented? At the moment it was impossible for him to tell.

“Just the formal act of calling the Council together is all you really have to do.” Harandor started speaking again. “If they put questions to you then answer them plainly, but say no more than you have to.” Elestirnë looked at him with a hint of fear in her eyes and Harandor realized that she was deeply worried about difficult questions that might be put to her by the proud men of the Council. “Do not be afraid.” the Steward said quickly, “These men are, after all, your subjects and it is not their duty, or their wish, to torment you with hard questions.” More likely, Harandor guessed, was that the most outspoken members of the Council would attempt to openly ignore Elestirnë and cast her as irrelevant. The Steward knew that if they were successful they could sway some of the undecided counsellors, and he was determined to prevent that if possible.

There was another awkward pause as Harandor tried to think of words, any words, that might be of some help or comfort to his Queen. None were forthcoming. It was difficult talking politics to a twelve-year-old girl, to whom fate had given its cruellest blows. The Council cession would probably be nothing but a trial for her, although some unlooked for good could come of it. Suddenly Harandor felt very old and weary, and although he would not admit it to himself, in his heart he sometimes felt like he was fighting a losing battle and would spend the remainder of his life in the struggle. But throughout his long life Harandor had learned never to despair. Tomorrow, and the Council, might bring unexpected relief.
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 14, 2005 02:22
"Rhuanion, please excuse me, I must talk to some very important people. I have the bad feeling that they are going to take the crown away from Elestirne, and that cannot happen."
Rhuanion gave Arwyn a strange questioning look, so she elaborated ever so vague, "I have heard many things Rhuanion, and always remember, things are never as they appear."
Rhuanion shook his head, as if to say, 'You will never change Arwyn.' Arwyn smiled, toussled Rhuanions hair, and left quickly. She needed to find out when Elestirne would appear before the Council they needed to know what would happen to the fair city, their city, and their country, if the crown was taken away from someone with royal blood. She didn't find it wise to add that there might have been foul play in the death of the king.
Arwyn was walking through the hallways and she saw the Steward of Gondor from afar. She ran as quickly as possible to catch him.
"Good Steward!" She ran more, "Please stop! Allow me to speak with you."
Arwyn stopped in front of him, "Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?"
She waited for his response.
Telemnar
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 28, 2005 09:08
Several hours later Harandor was once again pacing one of the cavernous halls of the palace buildings. He had given Elestirnë a bit more advice on exactly how to conduct herself before the Council, and then taken his leave. She had wanted more he knew, so much more than he could give her. But it would have to be that way, at least until he could properly judge the motives of certain councillors. And that would have to wait until tomorrow. In his long years of experience the Steward had learned the hard way never to be too hasty in judging a person. Men always had various conflicting motives and emotions, and oftentimes their actions on the surface did not appear to others to match their professed beliefs. Still, such outright doubt in the Council was something that Harandor had never seen before, or had even dreamed of. If Elestirnë had been of age to rule then he would have called it rebellion. The Steward tried to list off the Council members that he could count upon, and did not find it very reassuring. There was Brandir, his eldest son. He was close to his father and could always be counted on to support Harandor, without even caring why. But Brandir cared little about politics at all, and that profoundly disappointed Harandor, though he did not show it. He knew that five hundred years ago in the Third Age his eldest son would have been at home. But now he almost seemed trapped out of his proper time; a great warrior in an age of peace. The Steward still hoped that Hunthor would lend him support, but his second son seemed to have little faith in his Queen, but more than a little approval of her detractors. In his heart Harandor knew that Hunthor would disappoint him. It was a hard blow to the old Steward, but he took it quietly. Prince Elurín of Dol Amroth was clearly undecided, but when he did make up his mind then his opinion would sway many. Harandor planned to talk privately with him before the Council started.

"Good Steward!" She ran more, "Please stop! Allow me to speak with you."


Harandor turned to see a young looking woman running along the halls toward him. She rushed up and simply asked, “Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”

Harnador looked at her for a moment, spotting the distinct features of an Elf. “Astelle?” he began, “No, no, that’s wrong.” he looked at her more closely, trying to remember. “Arwyn.” he said after a short pause, “Yes, it is indeed you. I had heard that you were here, but so many years have passed since we last met that I had forgotten what you looked like. It is good that you have come, for Elestirnë is in need of friends in this trial.”

“And it is about Elestirnë that I have come to speak with you.” Arwyn started in an excited and yet worried voice, “I have this feeling, call it an intuition, that someone is plotting to take the crown from her!”

“Quiet!” Harandor cut in suddenly, “Not out here.” He glanced up and down the hallway, then turned back to her and said simply, “Come with me.” Without another word he turned and strode down the halls, with a somewhat surprised Arwyn following him. Before long he turned down a side passage that ended in a oaken door bound with iron, standing in a sharp contrast to the white stone walls. The Steward paused a moment and pulled a heavy key ring from one of the deep pockets in his robes. He selected an old key that looked as though it hadn’t been used for a long time, and opened the door. The room he revealed was strangely large to be behind a small and unused door. The walls were draped with banners of the King, and taking up most of the room was a long stone table with many richly carved chairs. The Steward sat down in the nearest one and motioned for Arwyn to do likewise. “In days past,” He explained, “This room was a secret meeting hall, but it has not been used as such for more than one hundred years. Now then, about your feeling. Whether it is correct or not, you must not let anyone know, not yet.”

“Whether it is correct or not.” Arwyn repeated Harandor’s words to herself, then looked up at him and asked, “So, do you believe me?”

“Sometimes I feel the same way that you do.” The Steward admitted, “But no man can trust his feelings to guide him. Perhaps Elves are different in this respect, but Men must rely on their reason. And at the moment I can find no cause for the Council’s actions. Their doubt seems so spontaneous, but just a little bit too much. Almost like it was planned to look unplanned!” Harandor sprang to his feet and paced the room, gesturing rapidly with his hands. “Listen Arwyn.” he said quickly, “They must have a leader, or more than one. I can try to draw him out at the next council session.” He stopped pacing, and turned to face the Elf again. “Arwyn, you are of the same blood as the line of the Kings, and I trust you. Please, do me a small service and watch over Elestirnë as best you can. At least comfort her if you can do nothing else.”
DFK6498
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Post RE: *Wolf At the Door, Serpent Under Foot* Free!
on: May 30, 2005 09:08
OOC: Please, Telemnar, don't play my character, you don't have to change it, just for future reference.

Arwyn nodded, "I will do the best I can to make sure that Elestirne is taken care of." She looked away, she felt she could trust the Steward. "Good Steward, I do not know how to tell you this, but I fear that foul play has been involved in the death of the King." She shuddered at the thought of it. Or more at the thought that it was even possible. "I fear that an unknown enemy has infiltrated these halls. Someone who plans to try and take over the rule of Gondor and Arnor. You cannot allow them to take the crown away from the royal family. To do so you will condemn Gondor to its death!" She paused and looked back to the Steward. "Tell me, how did King Elendur die, exactly? It is vital that you tell me everything, I have heard many things in the months previous."

[Edited on 1/6/2005 by DFK6498]
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