(Archive) Erinhaim and Ivriniel

Elendor - Saturday, May 20, 2000, 1:45 PM

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Weather: Clear

Time: Late Night

Season: Winter

Date: Trewsday - May 9, 3020

Real Time: Sat May 20 10:52:31 2000

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Dol Amroth: Halls of Healing - Master\'s Chambers

So broad is this chamber that at first glance it seems not one, but two on the west, a luxurious office, the floor covered by a thick carpet of Southron make, green laced with black. Centered upon it rests a broad mahogany desk covered with the implements of scholarship, flanked behind by a brace of tall, imposing shelves lined with scrolls and codices, and on the front by two wing-backed chairs upholstered to match.

The eastern end of the room, though, is bare and spartan, but heavy with fragrance. A workbench of scarred and yellowed wood covered with a variety of randomly-strewn arcane objects hugs the eastern wall, while the space above it is lined with a lattice from which depend bundles of aromatic flora hanging like withered fingers as they dry. Overlaying their perfume, though, is the scent of fresh, green Spring that only Kingsfoil can produce--it must be this, then, that lies in the covered wickerwork baskets around the room\'s periphery.

Northward four windows yawn onto the night, tall and deep-silled, cut into the rock of the wall. Through the murky, rippled glass, the torchlit streets of Amroth-town far below may be seen. Lamps depending from plain-steel chains are set in each corner of the rectangular room, with another atop the desk.

Obvious exits:

Out

Erinhaim has arrived.

The whistling winds of winter can be heard screaming outside the four Northward windows in the chambers of the Master healer, the chill of the day pervading every corner of the Citadel. Dark clouds hover and then swirl out of sight as another storm moves through the city by the Bay of Belfalas, a few flakes of snow falling gracefully from the sky. Lady Ivriniel stands looking through the muted glass, a white shawl of intricate design carefully draped across her shoulders.

Long does the woman stand at the window, silvery orbs watching the snowflakes land hither and thither, when finally, she turns and moves gracefully across the room to take a seat at the mahogany desk. The long forgotten tome laying still opened on the desk once again gets her attention as a well used quill is dipped into a pot of indigo and more lines are scratched upon the parchment paper. The light on the corner of her desk casts a flickering light upon the woman, as the shadows dance across her form

[Erinhaim(#20260)] There is a knock at the door at the Master\'s Chamber. A voice can be heard muffled from outside it, speaking into the cold air, \"My Lady? The Lord Minister has come to call on you.\"

A look of resignation flits across the brow of the Princess as she lays the quill down and quickly smoothes her hands over tired eyes and pats her raven tresses. Sea grey eyes close momentarily as she draws in a deep breath and then calls out calmly, \"Show him in, please\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] There is silence in answer as the servant goes to fetch his Lady\'s visitor. A draft blows through the room, spilling from the windows like the ghosts of men whose Doom they found within these halls. Footsteps can be heard, now, coming towards the door. It opens and a figure steps forth, his imposing figure clad in black absorbs the meager light from the candle\'s flame. It dances on his brow and shines on the silver threads and grey hairs of the man stands before it.

Erinhaim\'s large hand is placed upon his breast and he bows his head. Rising, his dark eyes twinkle, reflecting the light that shine on them. \"My Lady.\" He says, his voice is deep and seems to move the cold air like the moon can move the sea.

Drawing the shawl more closely around her shoulders as the draft of the opening door blows into the room, Lady Ivriniel glances upwards to the imposing figure clad in black as he enters the room. Curiosity apparent on her face she leans back in the carven chair, carefully folding her hands upon the white satin of her gown.

A noble bend of her head is given to the stranger before she inquires, \"Are you in need of healing attention?\" Quickly her eyes rove the figure of the man, searching for a spotch of scarlet or torn clothing, before they again rise to the face of the man and a hint of amusement clouds her eyes as she says, \"My attendant did say you were the Minister.\" Waving one hand to the two wing backed chairs across from her desk she says, \"Please, be seated\"

Erinhaim smiles quietly. It rests warm on his lips and is mirrored in his eyes, frost seems to melt before it in the candlelight. He places a heavy hand of the chair and shakes his head before sitting. \"N\'aye, Lady... I come to you to ask of you a tale or two. Nothing more.\" His voice rumbles, a chuckle hidden in its depths. Dark eyes shine upon the woman before them. The dark brows above them are arched with lines of curiousity etched upon their time-beaten surface.

The sister of Imrahil laughs softly in response to the words of the Minister, \"You have traveled from Minas Tirith to hear tales?\" Leaning forth in her chair, slender arms rest upon the desk as she peers into his own eyes with curiosity brimming from her own. \"Pray tell. What tales do you wish to hear? I dare say that I have none that would interest the Minister of Denethor.\"

Looking across the room her eyes widen as she is suddenly aware of the attendant still working at the bench at the other end of her office. Calling forth she says, \"That will be enough for today. Place the rest of the herbs in the white linen basket and I shall see to them later.\" With a nod of her head, the attendant completes her task, wiping stained hands on an apron and giving the two seated at the desk a curtsy before she exits the room.

Erinhaim watches the attendant depart, having not realized he was not alone with the elder child of Adrahil. He bows his head for a moment, the warm smile remaining visible beneath the veil of dark grey strands of hair. The Minister of Denethor shakes his head, chuckling softly, \"There are tales heard at the Court of Denethor concerning you, Lady, that do no justice to what these old eyes see before them, now.\" His dark eyes twinkle in their secret mirth, and the old soldier sits back.

His long legs he crosses, placing his heavy hands upon the pomeled ends of the wing-backed chair he sits upon. Dropping his gaze a moment, he smiles dismissively, \"Alas, my purpose at Dol Amroth is not entirely to speak with you, though that would be cause enough.\"

Ivriniel watches the attendant ease out the door and then returns her attention to the Minister of Denethor. One brow raises in question as she asks, \"Tales heard at the Court of the Steward that concern me?\" A tinkling of laughter spills forth as her soft pink lips spread with amusement. A shake of her head sends raven tresses spilling across the whiteness of her shawl as she answers, \"And what tales would those be Erinhaim? The rumours that spread across the lands are oft false, as we are both aware.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] Nodding his head, the crown of shadows that encircles Erinhaim seems to grow, but he smiles softly, \"Rumors of your oveliness were those of which I speak, My Lady.\" His smiles wanes a bit and his eyes grow harder, but his voice remains the same, as he continues, \"But there are also tales of you and our Southron foe, Lady. As Minister, I would like to hear you speak of that. As Lord Nimothan...\" He pauses, briefly and the light dances in his eyes and his voice is soothing, \"I have other interests, My Lady.\"

The old man brings his heavy hands up to fold beneath his chin. There he balances the weight of many years upon them. He sits in silence, finally, the smile still upon his lips.

The corners of Ivriniel\'s eyes crinkle with her amusement, the laughter wiping all vestige of coolness from her expression as she nods her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. At the mention of the Southron foe, the Princess drops her head, a coldness settling over her face as fingers grip one another tightly. As if suddenly aware of her actions, her hands splay and lay flat upon the desk for a moment and she draws a deep breath. Slowly, long lashes raise revealing the cloudiness of sea grey eyes, filled with painful remembrances.

Many emotions flicker across her brow, a myriad of expressions ever changing before she finally speaks again, her voice almost a whisper, \"I thought never to speak of the events on board the Bregasul and the Palagaer again.\" Frowning suddenly she asks sharply, \"What purpose does it serve to speak of the horrid actions of the Corsairs involving those two ships?\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"I know also of what horrors come at the hands of the Haradrim,\" Erinhaim\'s voice is grave. He raises up his arm and pulls the black sleeve back. The candle light reflects upon the thick band of puckered flesh where once chains long held these limbs captive to their heavy labors. The old soldier drops his gaze and his hand into his lap. He sigh also.

Shaking his head, he continues, \"Yet, I must know, still, My Lady. There are duties I must serve to the Lord Steward of this nation.\" This last he says almost to himself. Softly, he continues, \"Are there any that you remember, either by rumor or chance meeting, whom you think would serve our realm in secret, Lady?\"

No revulsion is seen upon the face of the Princess as Erinhaim reveals his puckered flesh, instead her head nods in understanding as she says, \"The horrors of their actions have long been seen by my eyes,many come to me with the injuries inflicted by the Corsairs. And what I witnessed upon the deck of the Palangaer shall forever be etched into the dark recessess of my mind.\"

Sadness over comes her for a moment as her bottom lip trembles slightly and a sheen of unshed tears brighten her eyes. Clearing her throat in embarassment Ivriniel shifts in her chair, the wood creaking softly before she asks, \"Ones that would serve our realm in secret? Do you jest?\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"N\'aye, Lady. I jest not. It is my duty to find an agent in their land.\" Erinhaim answers, pausing briefly, \"Too long we\'ve sat in darkness with only the visions of our Steward to guide us in the south. We need a voice to bend our ears upon.\"

The head of the woman drops again, raven hair flutters across her brow as fingers softly brush across the embroidery on her gown. The softness of her voice barely audible as Ivriniel says, \"Nay. I know of none that would be willing to work in secret such as you suggest. My contact with the Haradrim has led me to believe that all of them are violent cruel peoples.\" Sighing softly she says, \"The cruelty seen as all were slaughtered before my eyes would hardly suggest that any would be willing to go against Khazamr. He holds them tightly in his control, make no mistake of that.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"Lady... I must ask you to remember anything beyond that which you witnessed, that you may have heard of someone that would suit this purpose?\" Erinhaim insists, his voice is not unyielding. It is deep and warm, and filled with earnest hope which heartens no view men who hap to hear it. \"I would not ask were not the need so grave. I plan to speak with all those who have had dealings with Harad of late.\"

The gaze of the Princess becomes distant as the memories of the past haunt her mind, anguish etches deep grooves on either side of her mouth as she finally answers, \"There are none that I can recall Erinhaim. Most of the cruelty witnessed was done by pirates that were unnamed to me.\" A shudder shakes the slender body of Ivriniel as she says, \"Although, I do recall one of Khazamrs men clearly.

Seems I recall his name to be Carpathian, but under the circumstances and the injuries I received I could not swear this name to be true.\" Shrugging her shoulder offhandedly she remarks, \"Strange as this may sound, there was a form of kindness in him with the blow of the hilt of his scimitar against my head as it took me into a world of darkness, far from the atrocities already witnessed.\"

Erinhaim rubs his hands before his face, thoughts sitting heavy on his brow. He nods. There is little secret that can be gleaned from the deep depths that hold the earth before them. He smiles slightly, then. Holding up a staying hand, he says, \"Then let it trouble you no longer, Lady. I wish not to bring forth more memories of pain than already I have caused to stir.\"

Suddenly, Ivriniel straightens in her chair and a fierce growl sounds as she hisses, \"I would love nothing better than to have one of Khazamrs own men working in secret with Gondor. The delight of that would by far erase the horrors that I witnessed.\" The wisdom of her many years shines from the depth of her years as she says, \"I have not spoken of this to anyone. But several months ago, I was out game hunting and happened to notice a ship in the harbor..\", pausing, her fingers tap on the desk as she searches for the words, \"I cannot truly tell you what captured my attention in the beginning, but something drew my eyes to this ship. And then a longboat was lowered from the side of this ship instead of it docking in the harbor.\"

Rising from her seat, Ivriniel motions to the decanters of the finest wine and inquires, \"Would you care to partake in a glass of wine? My own throat is parched and could use some refreshment.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"Yes, I would partake in that,\" Erinhaim responds. His attention rapt upon Ivriniel\'s words as she speaks of secret shipping in the harbor, for it touches on his greater purpose here. Quietly, he bides his time.

The trickle of the wine into the crystal goblets sounds as Ivriniel pours a goodly amount into both. Recapping the decanter she picks up both glasses and glides across the room, a whisper of satin marking her movement. One glass is set upon the desk in front of Erinhaim as her own is raised in a mock salute, \"To finding a secret alliance in Harad\", a bitter laugh sounding before her lips part to partake of the sweet wine.

Erinhaim holds the delicate thing in his heavy hands. He answers the mock toast by taking a drink and sitting in silence. For, there is little else in the heart of Erinhaim, than to expose the power of the Enemy, which lies in secrets.

The spell passes. Erinhaim smiles a small, warm smile at the woman across from her. Quietly, he breaks the stillness of the morning room, \"Shall we speak of lighter matters?\"

The crystal goblet gleams in the light of the lantern as Ivriniel sets her own upon the desk, the fingers of her right hand lightly clasped around the slender stem. The silence of the room broken by the deep timbre of the man\'s voice startles her as her eyes jump to his face in surprise. Again, the good nature of the Princess is seen as amusement curls her lips, \"By all means, let us speak of lighter matters.

There are many clouds on the horizon, tis always a pleasure to speak of the ray of sunshine that slips through.\" Relaxed, the air of tranquility oft surrounding the Princess back into place she smiles at the man seated across from her and says, \"Tell me, how fares Denethor? It has been many months since I was in Minas Tirith, when last we spoke, he seemed burdened with worry.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"How great the cares of Denethor, I could not wish to fathom,\" Erinhaim says gravely. He shakes his hoary head, \"\'Tis said he vies with the Enemy. I have noted oft that times of increase the strain on him.\" The Minister bends forward slightly, his words are soft, but audible, \"There are troubles in Osgiliath.\"

Nodding her head, Ivriniel says softly, \"The husband of my dearly departed sister, Finduilas shall always be of concern to me. The strain seen upon his visage when last I spoke to him has me worried about his state of mind.\" Waving her hand in the air in impatience she says, \"Alas, here we are speaking of solemn matters once more. But tell me, what troubles are there in Osgiliath? Have the Mordorians attacked the Gondorian fortification again?\"

Erinhaim raises up a heavy hand to ward off further questions. He smiles and his soft chuckle breaks the air in rolling booms. \"Lady, let us not speak of such things. The ruins of Osgiliath are beyond the mountains and the Rammas. We are here. The sea is near and the sky has lightened with the coming of Anor on the Eastern sky.\"

The Lord Minister smiles, \"I came to hear a tale from you... Will you not give me one? Or would you rather ask questions of places far away? There are few answers that I would wish to speak upon.\"

A laugh sounds from the daughter of Adrahil as the Lord Minister calls her hand on the evasiveness of her speech. A tinge of colour spreads across the porcelain of her cheeks as she admits, \"Perhaps, I have delayed the telling of this tale. I will be the first to admit to having second thoughts of speaking of events without being confident of what I speak to be the truth.\"

\"When I spoke of the ship in the harbor and the longboat lowered from the side, I did not continue the tale. The Knights accompanying me on the hunting trip and myself watched as the longboat, filled with several figures drew nearer to the sandy coast of Belfalas. A Captain Rorgomir met the boat on the beach and they exchanged several words when notice of my party drawing nearer send the longboat back to the ship, where it subsquently did harbor.

A search of all ships in the harbor failed to turn up anything unusual, Rorgomir and those with him....a woman by the name of...\" irritation floods her face until she finally says, \"Araliara! That was her name. She said that she was from Riazza, but something has been niggling in the back of my mind since my meeting with her. I cannot place a finger upon it, but I have had the Knights look for her upon the docks every day since that meeting.\"

Erinhaim frowns as matters turn once again towards graveness and duty. He listens intently as Ivriniel speaks. He drinks his wine and stands. Placing the nearly empty vessel on the desk before him, he walks across to stand beside the Princess without the barrier between them.

Kneeling, he says quietly, placing his heavy hands upon her chair, \"Lady... Let us not speak of such things, now.\" His dark eyes shine, but not with mirth. His lips do not smile and in his face is only earnestness.

Taking a break in her tale, the hand of Ivriniel rises to bring the glass of wine to her lips and then stills as Erinhaim kneels beside her chair. Confused by this action, she looks at him in puzzlement, \"Let us not speak of such things when you travel the distance between our two cities to hear tales of these things? You are a paradox.\" Sea grey eyes search the face of the man as if hoping to glean some information there as she asks, \"Then what would you speak of in so serious a nature?\" No hint of a smile is seen on the visage of the Princess as she awaits the answer to her question.

Finally, he says, \"Why as My Lady not married?\"

The breaking of glass sounds as the crystal goblet in the slender fingers of the Princess crashes to the stone floor. A gasp of surprise rips from her lips as the composure of the woman slips at the nature of such a question. Indignation quickly floods her face as she practically hisses, \"How dare you ask such a personal question!\" Ire flashes in her eyes as they cloud, much like a storm at sea as she says, \"I hardly think Denethor sent you from Minas Tirith to inquire as to why I am yet unmarried.\"

Erinhaim frowns with a single nod to answer the woman\'s ire. He rises and removes himself to the further side of the desk. \"The question was not Denethor\'s but mine. I beg your forgiveness if I have insulted you. Perhaps my manners have been too roughly fashioned. Never was I born to know nobility.\" He sits and the thoughts weigh heavy on him.

Mindless of the puddle of wine amid the broken glass, the focus of Ivriniel\'s attention stays on the Lord Minister as her eyes narrow in thought. Silence weighs heavy after the apology of Erinhaim, an uncomfortable pause until Ivriniel finally speaks,composure back in place as the melodic tone of her voice is once more level and calm, \"Your apology is accepted. Please forgive me for reacting so harshly to your inquiry.\"

A soft laugh sounds as the good nature of the woman returns as she admits, \"Tis not often that I have inquiries made of a personal nature, you quite took me by surprise. Noble life does have certain restrictions that require a manner and code of conduct at all times.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"Lady, I did not come here for a lecture on decorum,\" answers Erinhaim, his pride wounded by being treated in such a fashion, \"I asked in the only manner which I knew, for that which I wished to know. I cannot speak in any other fashion than that which I have known. And is there not rules for how to handle breaches of conduct? Is it practice to rub salt upon the wound so freshly made? We know now my ignorance in matters between those of better birth. Need we punctuate it by lectures to an old man about what such things as that should be? I cannot learn. N\'aye, not even from such teacher.\"

Surprise again widens the eyes of Ivriniel as Erinhaim begins speaking, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarassment and irritation. Frowning at the grey haired noble man seated there with indignation on his own brow she says, \"A lecture on decorum?\", her voice rises a notch from the civil tone so recently heard, \"My words were in regards to my own response to your inquiry -and- my unmarried state. You greatly misunderstood the words I spoke.\" Choosing her words with obvious care the Princess states, \"There was no intention to insult you. Again, your question so stunned me in its nature that I failed to hold onto my own upbringing and lashed out without thought.

The answer to your question is simple, \"There are many that would wish to win the hand of Princess, but none that have won the heart of the woman.

There is a great distinction between the two.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"Aye, truely, that is sooth for much that lives beneath the sky.\" says Erinhaim, \"We are sundered by who we make ourselves and what is made for us.\" He sighs, \"Perhaps I should retire. I have found answer to my questions. I will trouble you no further.\"

The soothing voice of the Princess sounds again, much like when she is comforting those injuried on the field of battle, \"Come now, let us forget these harsh words spoken and more forward in understanding.\" Changing the subject with relative ease she inquires, \"How long shall you be in Dol Amroth? Would you care to dine with me one evening and perhaps we can speak more of the Haradrim. There are a few more stories up my sleeve.\", with that the mischevious nature of woman is seen as twinkling eyes flash with amusement. \"And when last have you had the grand tour of the Citadel?\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"I have never had a tour of the place, my lady. I have been there, I have walked the halls, but only as an unknown and never heralded visitor,\" Erinhaim\'s voice sounds earnestly, but little else echoes in it. \"As for dinner, I think that I may yet be arranged. I know not how many more days I shall be within Belfalas.\" Clearing his throat, he continues, \"I am on other business, than this visit.\"

The expression of Ivriniel remains tranquil as she says, \"Then we shall have to see to giving you a tour as the esteemed Lord Minister of Denethor. I shall speak to my brother about having a small, informal dinner while you are here, with your permission, of course.\" Pausing briefly the Princess goes on to say, \"If I may be of assistance during your stay, please do not hesitate to contact me or one of my many attendants.\"

Erinhaim bows his head in affirmation, \"That would suit me well, Lady. Your presence would be most welcome.\" Standing, he places a hand on his breast and bows low, \"For now, I must depart. I have taken too much of your time.\"

Ivriniel rises from her seat, a gentle bow of her head given to the Lord Minister of Denethor. A smile doth curve the corners of her lips as she says, \"It has been a pleasure to meet you Erinhaim. I do hope you enjoy your stay in our city and that your -other- business goes well. Do not hesitate to call for assistance of any kind as we are all servants of the Steward.\" The crunching of glass sounds as her foot steps upon the long forgotten broken glass and she laughs, \"Now, I must see to this mess before I need to be seen by one of the healers\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"There is one lesson you might teach this old man, lady,\" says Erinhaim, before he turns to leave.

\"And what lesson might that be?\", asks the Princess as she raises her eyes from the shards of glass on the floor to the tall man now standing across from her.

Erinhaim smiles softly, at last, \"How to succeed where others have failed.\" He bows slightly and moves toward the door.

The sound of honest laughter slips from the lips of Ivriniel as the words of the man catch her offguard. Twinkling eyes dance with amusement as she doth offer, \"That would be a lesson I myself would fail in as I do not know the path to success on that road. And that is the simple truth of the matter.\"

Sincere in her words Ivriniel says softly, almost to herself, \"Who is to say the path has not been overgrown with vegatation and completely blocked?\" Shrugging her shoulders she says offhandedly, \"That is something I cannot answer\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

\"Lady... No path is blocked when one wants to find a way,\" Erinhaim says quietly and steps beyond the door.