The Pretender Chronicles - Enemies Still?
A tale freshly told of the Gondorian
Those of Harad and Gondor seem to reach some understanding, unstated.
[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Sunday, Day 22 of July.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 17:47:41 MDT on Mon Mar 30 2009.
Gondorian Chambers(#19974Xen)
A series of comfortable though not extravagant chambers, accessible from two different sets of doors leading to the main hallways of the second floor of the tower. There are beds and hearths and tables and chairs and other necessary amenities, and food is provided by the Farside servants. Tower Guardsmen are on duty at the main doors at all times, and a patrol checks on the interior at the passing of every hour.
[Yussef(#19036)]
The perpetual shade in this hallway is broken here and there by the short pillars of brightness cast from the windows, grains of dust hovering afloat in the midday sunlight it is hot, though not so much as outside. The twain guards stand leaned on either side of the doorway, idle talk of some nature or other raising their voices in a low murmur. And thither the commander of these northern guests guard detachment sits in person -- Sergeant Yussef, leaned back against the back against the wall on one of the handfull chairs placed here -- narrowed eyes dwelling outside the windows in the distance, creases on his brow.
Some trouble or other plagues his mind, for sure.
Not a chair or two away sits Ceredir, only he is not talking to the Sergeant, nor are his eyes open. He sits rather awkwardly, leaning his right shoulder against the wall, his left arm, bandaged, cradled in his right. By his right hand is a small table, a half-full glass of red wine at hand.
His eyes are squeezed shut, as if he is not sleeping and some lines of pain etch his face.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
As the door is often wont to do, it knocks. Or rather, someone on the other side is knocking, likely, and it just projects the sound into the room with a solid, wooden tone. *rap rap rap...rap rap*
[Yussef(#19036)]
Torn from his thoughtful vigil, the Sergeant turns his head a nod to the pair by the door.
They -- how many southrons does it take to open a door anyway? -- open it.
Ceredir sighs, shifts in his chair, leans his head against the wall now, too. He tugs the left sleeve of his tunic down over the bandages on that arm. His eyes stay closed.
[Yussef(#19036)]
\"Tell me again,\" Yussef says to Ceredir without turning his glance from the doorway, his uncouth westron quietly spoken, \"How many men for this black hand of yours?\"
[Eruphel(#20109)]
The door opens, and it is Su\'ad once more. Or Eruphel, depending. She has a glow about her, though, as she moves into the room. A sort of light on her face, that makes her appear to smile even when she is not. \"Hello, Yussef...\" she says, and nods to the guards, then nods to Ceredir as well, but seems to find him...perhaps not in a condition to recieve visitors. \"What happened?\" she asks Yussef in a half-whisper.
The Master Scout coughs and stirs, reluctantly opening his eyes with a sigh, though it is to answer Yussef\'s question, not at the arrival of Eruphel, who he does not seem to notice yet--his eyes bloodshot.
\"I do not know,\" he says, hoarse-voiced. \"Their leader would not tell me--they require proof first, which I still must bring back. But...their leader...he is a powerful man.\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
With a wry glance at the northerner, Yussef comes to his feet as Eruphel approaches. The wryness drains from his face, left is only a faint smile as he bows his head lightly. \"Cap\'n.\"
And then again, it reappears with another look at Ceredir, an eyebrow arching. \"The price has been paid,\" He answers in a tone in like volume.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
\"Hmm...well, he\'s not missing anything.\" she says softly in an aside. \"Nothing physically attached, at least.\" Her eyes go to the bandage, surmising what lies beneath, perhaps correctly, perhaps not. \"I am told that the roses have been delivered to the vault. I am getting my belongings today and moving them. I expect you to do the same soon.\" she says to Yussef, then looks at Ceredir again and says, \"What\'s this about a hand?\"
\"What?\" Ceredir blinks and looks up now to Eruphel, noticing her. \"Roses?\" he asks, confused. \"Why must you move your belongings?\"
\"And, aye, the price has been paid,\" he says, directing a small smirk to Yussef as he reaches with his right hand for the wine nearby. His left remains carefully still on his lap. \"And I am not missing any limbs. Much to your dismay, apparently?\"
\"As for the Black Hand...tis a group of my countrymen who hold loyalty to...well, to their King whenever he shall return. I am here as their emissary.\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
\"Yes,\" Yussef says, glance downcast to the side. His one arm moves as if to fold over his chest with the other, whose elbow comes to rest on it hand raised to his chin. \"About that...\"
He pauses, gaze shifted to Ceredir for the nonce, but he speaks not to, one might presume. \"I\'ll speak with Lord Alphros.\" His glance turns distant as he muses, without rhyme or reason and, as it seems, to himself. \"There were twenty-three. I am sure of it. But as I gathered them up, I counted only twenty-one.\"
\"...Odd.\"
[Eruphel(#20109)]
\"Hmm...well, the Corsair drew a sketch of them...we can see what he saw as well. I confess I did not count when I first glanced at them. But only three people ever picked them up.\" Eruphel says to Yussef. Then she looks at Ceredir, conspicuously not commenting further on the lack of lack of limb. \"I am moving my belongings to Seaward.\" she says simply, then asks, \"Your countrymen...are passionate about the return of King Alphros?\"
\"Roses?\" Ceredir says slowly, puzzling this out as the two men speak. \"Why would anyone be concerned about flowers and about how many there are?\" His brows furrow, he shakes his head slightly--and then drains the rest of his wine in one quick drink. That seems to offer a small measure of relief, for he sighs quietly as he finishes.
\"What is Seaward? And why move there? And Yussef, too?\"
\"Passionate about our King\'s return. It remains to be seen with evidence Lord Alphros provides to his kingship and how it is judged. For...there are some who will not abide a southron as King, even if his claim is true. They name him a Black Numenorean. Pawn of the Enemy.\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
With a nod in turn, Yussef muses on: \"Three... besides myself.\" His glance narrows further. And he shakes his head the moment after, glance stirring as he reaches for a seat and pulling it from the wall, to be presented like so in Eruphel\'s benefit with a gesture of his spare hand. \"Is this how your people ask questions,\" He tells Ceredir dryly.
\"A hundred at a time?\"
[Eruphel(#20109)]
\"They are valuable, and rare. Black with stems of many colors.\" Eruphel responds to Ceredir, her voice dark and grim. \"And two may be missing.\" She turns once more to Yussef, and smiles at his offering of a seat. She sits down as if her rear relishes the feel of the chair. \"Yussef, introduce me to this Emissary of the Black Hand, so he might know.\"
\"At times, at times,\" Ceredir says, responding to Yussef\'s dry comment with a quick smile. \"I have much to learn here, and you will perhaps forgive me for being overly curious on matters. Especially...rare roses. I have never heard of such a thing.\"
His gaze, now questioning, looks to Yussef. He waits.
[Azradi(#20135)]
The door the Gondorian\'s quarters opens to admit a transformed Azradi. She has forsaken her usual martial attire and is wearing a gown - silken, costly and of her favored colors, red and gold. Golden jewelry adorns her wrists and ears. Her black hair is worn unbound and tumbles down her back. \"Eruphel!\" she calls out gladly, her gray eyes falling upon the Corsair lady first. \"I heard you were here!\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
The sergeant begins: \"Master Scout Ceredir, this is the Lady-Claimant of Seaward Tower, of the High Council of Umbar-...\"
He glances over his shoulder at Azradi, the corners of his mouth curling upward: \"-...Eruphel, Mazrakhor\'s daughter.\" He bows his head lightly, ere turning back to the northerner.
Almost expectantly.
\"Lady...Eruphel? Not Su\'ad?\" Ceredir says, risking another question, with another quick smirk to Yussef as he does so.
He gets to his feet, but it is a bit unsteadily, and this is followed by a small bow and a grimace--though the bow is directed now somewhere between Eruphel and Azradi. \"My lady.\" Again, it is not clear to whom he speaks, though it is done with all due politeness. Standing still--right hand carefully cupping his left--he remains that way.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
Eruphel\'s dark eyes glitter, and her cheek pulls in an almost-smile. \"When we met in the tent, I was styled Su\'ad, War Captain. But my true name is Eruphel, and now there is no longer need for aliases.\" Eruphel turns to look over her shoulder, catching sight of Azradi. \"Captain Azradi, it is good to see you. I was hoping I would...\" She indicates a seat in offering.
[Yussef(#19036)]
Yussef pulls up another chair at the gesture next to Eruphel\'s.
The smirk is noted, however, if uncommented.
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi takes the offered seat, arranging her clothing. \"Thank you, Yussef.\"
Before she can answer Eruphel, however, her gaze falls upon the Gondorian man. \"What is wrong with you? Are you injured?\"
\"Not injured, my lady,\" Ceredir shakes his head. \"It is a price I had to pay. Yussef knows.\" He waits to it before Azradi does, but when he does sit, his eyes close again for a while, though he is not sleeping.
[Eruphel(#20109)]
\"Hmm...well, perhaps we should step outside.\" Eruphel says, noting the man\'s attemts at convalescing. She stands up and moves toward the door. \"I\'ll be in the Barracks.\" she says, and steps out.
[Yussef(#19036)]
The frown settles somewhat as Yussef looks away from the watchman of Ithilien -- as does the disapproval writ on his face -- in favor of Azradi, and he offers in Haradaic, \"He has been marked after the accord struck with your brother, lady Azulada.\"
His glance flicks to Eruphel, head bowing, but no word of departure.
Eruphel heads out of the Gondorian chambers.
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"Still sore from the battle?\" Azradi asks after the departing Eruphel, her lips curved in a knowing smile. \"I shall be by in a while then, if I can.\"
Yussef\'s explanation commands her attention and she looks now upon Ceredir with respect. She smiles again. \"You have made a wise decision and your King will reward you for loyalty.\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
\"Cap\'n,\" Yussef\'s voice lowers a tad. \"I recovered only twenty-one roses on the eve of the battle. There were twenty-three, I recall clearly. But I do not remember who handled them save myself...\"
\"Do you?\"
\"And... what should be done with the branding iron?\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"Well,\" Azradi replies and then pauses in thought, \"Eruphel took a rose as did I but after I took mine, I brought it over to Alprhos to see so my back was turned from the others. Do you recall who else came near them, even if you saw no one else touch them?\"
\"Thank you, Captain. I hope that this allows me to earn back what respect I had lost previously.\" Ceredir opens his eyes only after a few moments. \"Forgive me. Our healer had no herbs for pain and advised me to drink wine, and it tires me.\"
\"But I heard...Yussef told me..a great victory?\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
Lower lip bit, Yussef replies, \"That corsair who made his scetch, and that woman of Black, though I can\'t recall her name... Or, for that matter, her face.\" He looks to Ceredir now. But doesn\'t comment, save for: \"Have some more wine,\" with a gesture at the table where stands a pitcher, and some earthenware vessels.
\"And you, Cap\'n?\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"A great victory, indeed!\" exclaims Azradi with a joyful smile. \"The civil war has come to an end. Or very nearly, at least.\"
\"Qute,\" answers the Corsair lady, waving for the sergeant to pour her a glass of wine. \"A woman of suspicious talents, I deem.\"
\"A moment, please,\" she says Ceredir then and leans towards Yussef to whisper.
[<#20135>]
\"What ... ... the ... bear?\". Alprhos\' sister\'s voice is low and sibilant.
[<#19036>]
\'Hm.\'
This at the note of Qute. Yussef retrieves some wine for the lady of Farside then, presented with a light bow and words in like volume but his brow is creased, glance uncertain -- \"... Raven ... ... Tree.\"
Taking the moment while the two whisper, Ceredir stands and pours himself some wine after Yussef does so, then re-takes his seat. Those two words--Raven and Tree--cause him to glance once to Yussef, frowning slightly.
[<#20135>]
Azradi replies, her voice yet low and sibilant. \"... it. We will need ... again.\"
She smiles and accepts her wine. \'Has a healer seen you, Ceredir?\'
[Yussef(#19036)]
Bow deepening, whatever troubles or unspoken questions that mar his brow fading, Yussef answers \"As you say, my lady.\"
He steps back then.
\"I have not had a healer attend to it, my lady,\" Ceredir answers with a small shake of his head. \"Your pardon but...is something wrong with this price I have paid?\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"Ah,\" Azradi says, turning to Yussef, \"Please sum...\"
The lady pauses and looks back to Ceredir when he speaks further. She frowns. \"Do you have regrets?\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
Yussef blinks, voice lowering as he glances at Azradi with an arched brow: \"Wha\'?\"
\"None.\"
Ceredir\'s reply is flat, neither emotion nor pain coloring it.
\"A minor pain but it restores my honor. Which is what I wished to do. Or so I hope that I have done?\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"Then there is nothing wrong with the price you paid,\" Azradi replies, her voice very nearly gentle. She turns her regard back to the Tower Sergeant. \"As I was saying: Have a healer summoned perhaps the noisy one from the Poros Campaign, Naureen. It will give her something to gossip about. She may even be happy for a few moments or two before she once more finds fault with every breath my brother takes.\"
\"In a conspiratorial whisper, she adds to Ceredir, her eyes twinkling: \"Don\'t let her rub raw onions on your mark of loyalty.\"
[Yussef(#19036)]
At the mention of that name, Yussef\'s countenance darkens. It does spill into his voice as well, as he inclines his brow, \"I\'ll see to it at once, Cap\'n.\"
He pivots sharply toward the door.
\"A healer..\" Ceredir looks after Yussef as the sergeant leaves, his eyes clouded briefly. \"Something perhaps better than wine for the pain. Though wine will do. Captain..\"
He turns to the woman once more. \"I..these roses. They are of significance somehow?\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"If Naurren does not come tonight, I will have a Farside healer see you,\" Azradi replies, \"Naureen can see you another night, if so.\"
\"These roses are strange and were found in a strange place under strange circumstances,\" she returns to the previous subject, tapping her finger thoughtfully aside her wine-glass. \"And that makes them significant. They are a puzzle. One we have not yet delved into deeply, yet.\"
\"I...I am grateful for the healer, my lady,\" Ceredir replies.
\"Flowers. Odd it is. But I do not think your brother wishes me to involve myself here, as you had warned me. I must return to Gondor and soon. Else there will soon be suspicion falling upon us.\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
With the civil war largely finished,\" Azradi replies, idly swirling the wine in her glass, \"My brother will have more time to deal with the remainder of your party.\"
\"How has your lady taken to your decision to prove your loyalty in this way?\"
The question takes Ceredir aback, and he hesitates and then stumbles in his words, face flushing a little.
\"She...I....\" He sighs. \"She is angry--with me and with those who did this to me, though I did not object to their actions. Indeed...I was the one to offer this as a mark of my service. And yet she thinks it all monstrous.\"
\"Monsters. That is what she called them.\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
\"She has neither faced death nor brought it,\" Azradi replies, nodding as if in agreement to something unsaid between them: Corsair and Gondorian. \"She is an artist and soft. Her spirit is fractured. The part of her that renders nature into art is afraid of the part of her that is capable of destroying. She is not whole. All of your women are like that.\"
\"I draw too, did you know? I suppose now that I know you two will not be sold or executed I can share my drawings with her.\"
\"Fractured...I had never heard it put that way but...I think you are right. Our women...the women here are extraordinary,\" Ceredir says, looking up and then quickly away from Azradi. \"Strong in a way that I have not seen before. Nella..she should have been like that. But it is too late. She is who she is and, well, I wish her that way. I would not wish her changed, nor would I wish her to be a Corsair. No offense, my lady Captain. It is just what I grew up with. Expectations.\"
\"Your people...they are interesting. They have insight of their own. Yildirim...he said I grasped at many things, trying to find answers, but I cling to none. That I am lost.\"
A small sip of wine is taken from the mug the Master Scout still has, but this is interrupted by his choking suddenly. \"Sold? Executed?\" Then: \"Yes, yes, she would like to see your drawings.\"
[Azradi(#20135)]
Azradi drains the last of her wine and rises. \"Then I will show her when I next have time and she can tell me how heartless I am - or admire me if she has drink in her.\"
Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she speaks those words. She sets down her wine. \"It is clear you are in pain so I will let you rest.\"
\"So too will I inform your guards that a Farside healer is to be summoned if Naureen is not here within two hours. Good day, Ceredir.\"
\"Good day, Captain.\" Ceredir gets to his feet, setting his wine aside and nearly saluting the woman...stopping just short of doing so, right fist on his chest. He smiles just a little. \"Thank you for sending a healer.\"