The Red Book of Westmarch

A tale of the Gondorian

‹ Return to Gondorian

(Archive) Adramir the Dishonoured Meets Ivriniel

From the archives of the Gondorian

Where
Dol Amroth

An encounter

Elendor - Wednesday, June 07, 2000, 10:19 PM

--------------------------------------------

Dol Amroth: Prince\'s Castle - Harpers\' Hall

Unlike the relatively subdued style of the rest of the Citadel, here opulence is abundant. The room itself is vast, thirty feet high and twice that long and wide, carpeted in blue--save a circular space at the Hall\'s center for dancing, where instead gleaming wooden planks nestle together. The walls are supported with stone columns and buttresses accented with precious metals and many-colored woods, while high up near the roof a series of bas-relief stone kings look down benignly. The colors of the Great Houses are placed prominently--drapes of Girithlin burgundy and Imrazor blue, stars and swans picked out in gold and silver thread are arranged upon the walls, while black-upholstered setees and chairs emblazoned with the scarlet Bragollach flame or covered in azure with the white moon and stars of Isilrim are scattered about the room\'s edges. High upon the eastern wall runs a long tapestry telling the tale of Amroth and Nimrodel, from their first meeting to the elf-lord\'s tragic leap into the Bay of Belfalas.

The Hall is lit at night by two massive silver-and-gold candelabra that depend along the ceiling\'s central axis, each holding a myriad of candles whose warm light reflects in each of the polished wood accents below. Lamps are also attached to the columns, directing their light upward to play across the distant, ribbed ceiling and reflect softly back down to the floor.

Contents:

Adramir

Obvious exits:

Glass Doors and Gilt Doors

The sun flashes brightly on the horizon. Night gives way to morning.

[Dol Amroth ZMO(#5927)->Ivriniel]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Weather: Clear

Time: Dawn

Season: Summer

Date: Trewsday - July 2, 3020

Real Time: Wed Jun 07 19:40:07 2000

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As the first beams of sunlight streak across the sky with the dawn, morning finds the elder Imrazor busy in Harpers Hall. Directing the workers as they repaint the walls, Lady Ivriniel\'s soft, but stern voice rings out clearly as she directs the placement of canvas over the black upholstered setees and chairs. The tapestry depicting the tale of Amroth and Nimrodel is carefully rolled up and carried from the room as the smell of turpentine quickly fills the air.

Dressed in her usual white satin dress, the Princess carries herself with grace and dignity as she checks the colour of the paint before the men on the scaffolds begin painting. One of the men drops a horsehair brush and a splotch of paint colours the woman\'s dress. Eyeing him quietly for a moment, Ivriniel says nothing as silver grey orbs display her irritation, instead, remaining quiet as a servant picks up the brush and hands it to the embarassed worker. Turning her back to the men a smile of amusement turns up the corners of her lips as her eyes fall to the offending colour staining the gown and softly she can be heard to say, \"Tis a good thing this was an older dress or Imrahil would be complaining of the tailors bill.\"

The door to the room opens slowly and through it steps a man who seems entirely out of place within the splendor of these halls. As chisseled as the walls are, he is sloppy. As pressed as the tapestries are, he is wrinkled as is his raiment. As sober as the atmosphere is... he is most certainly still drunk. As he steps into the hall, the golden sunrays strike his pupils and cause him to shrink back, as a dog reproached by its master. He says nothing, but squints as he looks into the hall. The smell of turpentine seems most unpleasant to him.

[Cranth(#13375)] A weary looking man enters the room, clearly taking a liesurely stroll through the palace and not aware that he is intruding. He stops suddenly when he sees that the room is occupied. Looking to Ivriniel and Adramir, he bows and stammers, \"I beg the lord and lady\'s pardon. I didn\'t mean to intrude...\" He is dressed in the garb of a messenger

Cranth looks nervously back and forth between the twom, thinking that it would be unwise to make his exit without permission.

The opening of the door is missed by the Princess as she picks up a linen napkin and blots at some of the paint on her dress. Wadding the napkin up so the wet paint is folded inside she reaches to place it on the table and silvery grey orbs glance up to see Adramir. A tight grimace of displeasure turns the corners of her mouth into a most unpleasant look as she eyes the manner of dress upon his person. Slightly shaking her head she walks closer to the man, reeling from the stench of his alcohol soaked person before she takes many steps. Her lips open to speak to the man, a scowl upon her face only to be interupted by a messenger. Raising one brow in mockery she says, \"Yes?\"

Adramir turns around and looks to the messenger with a slight scowl on his face, and shakes his head slowly, breathing in a slightly heavy fashion. The stench of alcohol, cheap wine it would seem from the smell, is strong upon his breath, and then he turns back to the princess. \"Good morning, yer highness,\" he says, actually with remarkable clarity. \"It.. it\'s been a long time since we last ah... spoke.\" His eyes are still squinted and his nose wrinkled at the noxious affronts to his senses within the room.

While awaiting the messenger to deliver his news, Lady Ivriniel looks at Adramir with disgust clearly written on her face. Again, one finely arched brow raises sardonically as says, \"Good morning indeed. From the looks and -smell- of you, a night of rest was not taken by your person.\" Turning her head to one side, her hand rises to her nose as if to block the strong stench of alcohol radiating from Adramir, just by his mere existence. \"Indeed, it has been a long time. I suppose the offer of daily work was too much to handle?\", a sarcastic laugh sounds as she adds to that, \"Or did the few days work you did earn you enough to keep you in wine for weeks?\"

He says and then wipes the hand with a particularly dirty portion of his cloak. \"No. Go \'way,\" he mutters to the messenger, the slurring more recognizable now. He looks back to the lady and clears his throat. \"No, yer highness, the ...uh... offer was most seriously taken. It\'s just that yer bondsmen seemed ill inclined to deliver me the work orders you seem to say you had for me. Or did your most noble brother order you to stop associating with a failure such as myshelf?\" His voice is becoming agitated, and he holds his hand up to his face, looking at the paint as it slowly begins to dry. \"Damn it!\" he mutters again.

Cranth hurries to the man\'s side. \"Sir, may I help you?\"

Cranth becomes increasingly uncomfortable. Turning to Ivriniel, he stammers, \"My lady, I have entered this room by mistake. I did not mean to intrude.. \"

Turning to the messenger, a pleasant expression slips over the face of the Princess, allowing her true beauty to shine as she says graciously, \"Whom are you delivering a message too my good man? Perhaps one of the squires can direct you to your party.\" Glaring at Adramir again, Ivriniel says with little patience in her voice, \"My most noble brother, the Prince would not order me to stop associating with the likes of you, how ever low you consider yourself. The House of Healing is my domain and he does not interfere.\" Tapping one finger against the material of her dress she does inquire softly, \"The work orders were not delivered to your place of residence? Or have you been lying in the gutters and not staying in one place long enough for my messengers to find you? Perhaps that is more the truth of the matter.\"

\"Yer messengers know where to find me, yer highness,\" spits the drunk to the princess. He grimaces at the messenger and then coughs a few times, a rasping hack that sounds like it must be at least slightly productive, though fortunately if it is he does not expectorate. \"Unfortunately not everyone has the luxury of living within a wonderful palace with men and women hanging off their coattailsh. I might find a more permanent address if my employers didn\'t ... drop me the first time they hear who I was.\"

Cranth bows to Ivriniel. \"I\'m sorry, my lady. I didn\'t recognize you. That is, I hadn\'t expected to find you here. I have a message for you.\" He rummages in his pouch.

Cranth looks apologetically at Admirar. \"I\'m sorry, but the message is for the lady\'s ears only.\"

Replused by the rasping hack issued from the throat of the drunken Bragollach, Ivriniel moves back a pace of two, curling her pert nose in utter disgust. Shaking her head a deep sigh sounds from deep within the recesses of her chest and she finally says, \"I had such hope for you Adramir. You sat in my office and promised me faithfully---- faithfully, that you had seen the err of your past ways and was ready to make a fresh start, with my help.\" Disappointment weighs heavily upon her brow as she says, \"The Bragollach family has seen much heartache in recent years, I had hoped to somehow offer a glimmer of hope in the restored honour of a former Swan Knight, but alas, the Knight must wish it for himself, first and foremost.\"

Surprised eyes fly open wide as the messenger was all but forgotten until he spoke. Ivriniel laughs softly and a tinge of colour stains the delicate porcelain of her cheeks as she inquires, \"A message from me? From whom?\" Curiosity demands her eyes follow the hands of the messenger as he looks for the message. \"For my ear\'s only? Not written on scroll?\", shock leaves the woman speechless with that information

\"It is a message from Lord Nimothan Erinhaim, my lady.\"

\"And I was instructed to read it aloud to you>\'

Cranth stands at attention in front of the lady. \"My lady, it is a message from Lord Nimothan Erinhaim.\" He looks again at the knight. \"He instructed me to deliver it to you in person and in no-one else\'s presence.\" Cranth hesitates. \"Perhaps I should return at a more opportune time.\"

Adramir looks to the messenger and furrows his brow as he speaks, \"Why of course. I shall remove mine right away,\" he snarls. Bloodshot eyes stare down the young man and he shakes his head, slower this time, and says, \"I think it can wait till I\'m through, sirrah.\"

He turns back to the lady quickly and once more becomes dizzy again. \"When you had work fer me, I did fulfill it. Only when you stopped seeing the need to employ me did my relationship with you sour.\" He stares at the woman and sways once, his face is now beet red, from the alcohol and anger which is within him. Once more he bring his hand to his face and says, \"Damn it all, I\'ve paint on my hands!\"

The western doors open after the besotted man\'s tirade, to admit the form of the now humbly-clad Bragollach lord, his cane\'s thumping muffled by the luxuriant carpet. His gaze sweeps across those present with no acknowledgment for them, coming to rest on Adramir.

\"A fine day for such talk and such tones,\" he remarks, coming to a halt several paces away. \"Thou\'rt causing whispers and scurrilous, scandalous talk among the maids.\"

Ignoring the outburst of the Bragollach man for the moment, Ivriniel speaks to the messenger and motions to a quiet corner of the room, \"Step this way and speak your message without further ado please. There are things to be seen to today and I have not the time to waste standing here waiting.\" With that, the Princess turns and glides gracefully across the room with a whisper of satin marking her movement.

Borgilas tilts his head to regard the High Lady for a moment as she glides past, but gives her no more acknowledgment.

Cranth follows the lady at a respectable distance. When she turns her attention back to him, he addresses her in a tone loud enough to be heard, but intended not to carry to the rest of the room.

[Cranth(#13375)] The Lord Nimothan Erinhaim sends his greetings from Minas Tirith. He has been regretably delayed there as pressing matters still engage him. There has been message from the Lady Gweneth of Bragollach by her servant. The matter on which the Lord Minister was engaged in Dol Amroth has been brought to his attention, once again. He would ask that the Princess Ivriniel act as an agent in this matter for the Lord Steward Denethor. It is rumored that illicit goods have transgressed the bournes of Gondor in Belfalas. These goods are said to come from Harad and sold at markets in the fief of Imrahil by dark-hearted traitors to his realm. The Lord Nimothan Erinhaim, Minister to Denethor, advises the Princess Ivriniel to send out loyal agents with discretion to ferret out those who would so abuse the trust of Gondor by breaking this law set on high from the Steward\'s seat.

Thus was it spoken by the Lord Nimothan Erinhaim, Minister to Denethor, Official of the Tower, to the Cranth, Messenger of the House Nimothan, for the ears of Princess Ivriniel of Dol Amroth and House Imrazor.

Adramir turns around as the elder Bragollach enters the room and shakes his head, \"What the devil are you doing here?\" he asks curtly. A stench of wine, cheap wine at that, ensues from his mouth as he speaks. \"Oh, and there\'s wet paint on the walls,\" he says slowly, looking back at his hand and seeing the now nearly dried and cracking tone on his palm. \"Damn it all.\" he says slowly and looks back up to see that the Princess has removed herself from the scene. \"I wasn

[Adramir(#16822)] \"I wasn\'t done. Damn damn and double damn.\" He shakes his head and looks at her for a moment with burning eyes.

Borgilas arches a brow. \"That question, I think, would be better asked of thee, my friend. And yet here we two are.\" He pauses, then, to eye the man\'s hand and then the wall, somewhat quizzically--ignoring, for the nonce, the messenger, but taking in the High Lady in his glance yet again. \"It seemeth that thou hast correspondence in the Citadel...\"

The face of Lady Ivriniel pales as the messenger delivers the last words from the Lord Minister of Denethor. Almost without thinking, she reaches into the deep recesses of her pocket and pulls a coin and hands it to the man. \"Here. This is for your trouble. See to my attendant for food and rest before you head back to Minas Tirith.\" Her voice drops to a lower tone as she adds, \"In response, tell the Lord Minister that I shall, of course, do his bidding. Now, good day.\'

+give Cranth=1 Copper You +give a Copper Penny to Cranth.

Cranth accepts the coin and bows again to the woman. He turns and makes his way out of the room, gazing in the direction of Borgilas, and hoping to make eye contact, but saying nothing.

[Borgilas(#22134)] The older man\'s gaze, for the moment, is elsewhere--he does not see the messenger\'s look.

\"Had, br.. Borgilas, had correspondence,\" replies the drunken man. \"I was in the employ of yon lady, but it seems she no longer has use for me.\" He shakes his head and looks down at the floor for a moment before it begins to move under him and slowly reaches out to grab the wall for support, catching himself a minute too late as the wet paint touches his finger tips. \"DAMN!\" he shouts this time, staring at the fingers. He still looks to the lady, waiting for her to turn back around and resume her conversation with him. As the messenger hurries past he gives him a truly dirty look.

[Cranth(#13375)] As Cranth hurries past, he sees the glare and his face reddens.

Borgilas reaches out to steady the man as he flails, but pauses just short of touching him after his recovery. He throws a more interested look at the vaguely distraught High Lady, and then back to Adramir. \"Indeed?\" he says, his tone edging out of neutrality into...piqued interest? Delight? It is difficult to say which. \"Perhaps thou should\'st take up correspondence with me, in yon lady\'s stead...I promise to be less fickle as a patron.\"

Adramir looks over to Borgilas and starts laughing at his words, \"Indeed? It would be difficult to be more so. Women... Can\'t live with em, can\'t burn em without good cause.\" He pauses for a moment and then looks to the elder Bragollach and laughs, \"Or a good judge, I suppose.\" He laughs slightly and then becomes serious. This of course, takes a little while as he needs to stop smirking at his own joke.

\"But if you are serious about employing me, I am of course interested. Just tell me when and where.\" Again he coughs a rasping gasp, which once more sounds productive, but once again he does not expectorate, but makes an awful face as he swallows.

Borgilas says, \"Come to me in mine office. It is in the Grand Corridor below. We shall then see what we shall see. But for now, may I suggest with all due...homily, that we find a place for thee to lie and sleep for a time?\"

\"No,\" states the drunken man forcefully. \"I\'m not tired, and I\'m not done dealing with her highness. I came her to speak with her, and can sleep later.\" He breathes deeply for a few breaths before the noxious fumes from the painting get to him, and start up another coughing spell. His hand goes down to his pants and wipes fresh paint on them, which would be a shame if they weren\'t filthy already. Still, he is upset and utters an oath that is certainly not fit for any hall with ladies in it.

Borgilas glances over and smirks slightly. \"Then I wish thee fortune in thine endeavor. I must needs attend to other business...good day.\"

Borgilas passes westwards, then, as quickly as he might, humming slightly beneath his breath. He nods faintly toward Ivriniel as he leaves, but makes no formal acknowledgment.

Dropping into one of the chairs emblazoned with the scarlet Bragollach flame, Ivriniel is obviously distracted by her thoughts as a frown mars her brow and her lips move silently. Unaware of the messenger leaving or the conversation of the men she remains silent for a long period of time. A loud clatter gains her attention as one of the workers drops a tool used in restoring mortar to the wooden floor. Rising from the chair, she visibly shakes off the helm of worry and looks to the drunken Bragollach again with a sigh of displeasure. \"What do you have to say for yourself Adramir?\"

\"What do I have to say for myself?!\" responds the ex-Knight sharply, his voice pitched. \"What the devil could you mean by that, lady? I have come to find if I am still in your employ, not to explain myself to you.\" He stares at his hand once more and his pants, obviously very distracted by the paint on them. For a moment he tries to remove the stain from his pantleg, but that only makes it worse and he curses under his breath. \"In fact, I think it is you who should do the explaining. Of course, there will probably be none, I could expect as much.\"

A hint of amusement dances across the lips of Ivriniel, a soft cough or perhaps a laugh is covered by her hand, one cannot be sure amidst the noise in the room. Twinkling blue eyes glance over the sorry state of the drunken man, her lips twitching as she notes the paint upon his clothes and finally she doth speak again, \"Did I ever inform you that you were -not- in my employ? When last we spoke, we agreed that you were to be gainfully employed and raise yourself from the filth of the gutter.\" Incredulous eyes beam into his, \"I should explain to you? Pray tell man, what would you have me say to you, save that you have not shown your face in the Halls of Healing since our agreement. Doth thy word mean nothing when spoken?\"

\"So now you question my honor and my word. Wonderful,\" responds the drunken Knight, his voice laced with anger and sarcasm. \"And when you found it to your desire to give me tasks, did I not perform them as required?\" He is visibly shaking at this point, and his fists are clenched. A bead of sweat appears on his brow. \"But then, your messengers came no more. What, was I to come to the castle every day and beg for tasks, like a poor invalid on the streets begging for scraps? No. I\'m not quite that low, though perhaps your prince would like to see me so.\"

The silvery orbs of the Princess flash with ire, but her face remains calm, considering the words of Adramir. The silence between the looms long before she speaks again, her tone of voice, cold, clear and concise, \"Make it known right this instance -your- Prince has nothing to do with your current state of affairs. He is even unaware of the fact that you are working for me in the Halls of Healing.\" Leaning closer to the man, despite his stench, Ivriniel hisses out, \"Yes! I question your honour and your word. -I- had nothing to do with the earlier events staining your reputation, I have done -nothing-. I repeat -nothing-, but try to help you regain some shred of dignity about your person. The Bragollach family is an old and trusted one to House Imrazor and my heart is heavy with the burden you place upon their good name.\" Drawing in a cleansing breath, to not only restore her mind but to remove the smell of unwashed body and alcohol from her senses Ivriniel says, \"Now. Either we work together or you go your own way. I can offer you redemption. And no, do not tell me that you have no wish for redemption. I know the code of the Swan and what it means to a Knight, so do not insult my intelligence.\"

The bloodshot eyes of the drunken man stare directly back into the Princess\' and he says nothing for a moment, only breathing heavily, the anger mounting. Finally, the silence is broken. \"You, just as your brother, treat me now as a child. Unwilling to take me at my word, unwilling to trust in me, I am no longer a boy who needs punishment to you, someone who must be humiliated through public hearings for an act which all admit was beyond my control. No. Now I am some poor street urchin who needs YOU of all people to restore my honor and dignity! HAH! You make me ill, your Highness. Your brother rejected my honor when he chose to humiliate me for an accident. I only defended myself and my honor that night. But no amount of defense would restore me if I had caved to his wishes. I am a Knight no longer, lady. And now you too reject my honor by insisting that I want back the position I gave up in disgust.

The head of the Princess shakes back and forth, raven tresses spilling across her shoulders as she says aloud, \"Nay! I would not treat you as a child. I wish to treat you like a respectable man, be it Knight or nobleman.\" Sea grey eyes, earnest and sincere peer into the drunken bloodshot eyes of Adramir as she says in all sincerity, \"Have you no wish to end this humilation and regain some form of dignity? I wish it for you, but I cannot claim it as yours, only you can do that.\" Softly she offers again, \"Come, let us sit beneath the banner of House Bragollach and talk of your future.\" Motioning to the chairs beneath the brilliant scarlet banner Ivriniel asks, \"Shall we? Or shall we say, nay, he has no wish to restore any portion of his dignity, stubbornly wallowing in self-pity instead of making right what ever part of that event that can be made right.\" Her hand reaches to stay the man for a minute as she adds, \"Imrahil is a fair and just man, no matter what you may believe of him. Can you not find it in yourself to have counsel with him?\"

\"I cannot abide by this lie that you call nobility,\" responds the man slowly. He shakes his head slowly and looks to the lady for a moment. \"If you do not trust my word, then I will not be respected only for my birth. I came here to find if I am still in your employ, and if so, fulfill my duties to you. I did not come here to recieve a lecture. Until your Prince acknowledges that I acted in self defense, and does not question my word, I will not have counsel with him. Now, unless there is more to say on the matter of my employment, I shall bid you good day.\" With that he offers a short bow to the lady and awaits her response, albeit only for a short while.

Sadness darkens the eyes of the Princess as she looks upon the Bragollach man. Dropping her head for a moment, Ivriniel hides the pain inflicted by the words of Adramir. Finally, she lifts her chin slightly and ever so slowly, long dark lashes raise allowing a view of the hurt within her as she says, \"Think what you will...of nobility...of my brother and for that matter, of me, but know this Adramir and know it for the truth, not a lecture. The sadness that dwells within you is the demon that inflicts pain upon your soul and that....that my man, causes me grief. To see such a man as yourself, destroyed by his own demons.\" A brightness fills the eyes of the lady as she takes one last look at the handsome face of the man and she turns to leave, but not before one tear can be seen streaking down a porcelain cheek.

Adramir turns away and makes no noticeable response to the words of the lady, instead taking his leave and exiting into the hallway. He moves quickly through the halls and is quickly gone, leaving the palace once again behind him.

Adramir says, \"Thanks for the scene. It was awesome.\"

Ivriniel hugs, \"Thank you. I really enjoyed it. I LOVE RPing with you.\"

❦ ❦ ❦
‹ Return to Gondorian