(Archive) Thorondur

Elendor - Monday, December 27, 1999, 10:49 PM

*Note - log starts with Rp in progress. To set the scene, Aearwen is reading in the parlour when a stranger comes into the room and plucks some cakes from a table and starts eating them*

Looking up from her book in surprise as the door opens, Aearwen places one slim finger into the pages and looks at the stranger. Taken aback as the woman picks up some of the stale cakes lying on the table, she blinks in distaste as her eyes continue to follow the woman to her seat. Clearing her throat she inquires, \"And you would be?\" Swinging her feet off the chair and into a sitting position, Aearwen smoothes the lines of her gown as she awaits an answer.

Melandria looks over to Aearwen and sees her look of distate. Her soft voice calls out the the Lady Envoy. \"I am Melandria.\" She takes a bite of her cake and chews it properly before continuing. \"How are you at this late hour, Lady Aearwen?\" Her dark eyes look to her as she waits for her responce.

A frown marring her brow as she looks at the woman, Aearwen inquires cooly, \"And how do you come to know my name? I have no recollection of meeting you Melandria.\" Glancing at the woman with no warmth showing she continues her questioning, \"Are you a servant here in the citadel?\"

Shocked as the parlour door once again opens in the wee hours of the morn, Aearwen glances up to see the figure holding the candlestick and an impish grin curls her lips as her eyes recognize a familiar face, not oft seen.

\"We are all servants here in the Citadel,\" interrupts the newcomer in a smooth, melodic voice not so deep as his brethren, but more fair. More fair indeed the face of this lord who steps, no--glides--into the parlour. \"Of the Prince,\" says Thorondur Edrahil, Lord Girithlin, \"of the Valar, of the One or of Fate itself. Even of our own petty greeds. But make no mistake, dear ladies,\" he concludes, smiling mysteriously as he moves toward the window-seat, \"We all do serve.\"

A soft chuckle slips from Aearwen as the Lord Girithlin speaketh, \"Tis true, we are all servants in a finer sense of the word, how remiss of me not to encompass everything in my definition. Twinkling blue eyes hold the face of the Thorondur for a moment before Aearwen\'s attention is once again returned to the stranger. \"Pray tell my good woman, how are we related?\"

Picking up a tapestry bookmark from the table beside her chair, Aearwen carefully marks her place in the tome she was reading in the wee hours of the night. Smiling as she glances from Thorondur and then back again to Melandria, the twinkle in her eyes evident as she says, \"Three relative strangers in the parlour just ere the break of dawn, does it not make you wonder what drove those there from the peacefulness of sleep?\"

Thorondur\'s gaze returns to Aearwen, then, at her question after a moment, he gives a response. His words are spoken quietly, soft as feathers on grass. \"I do not wonder at it there is little sleep to be had for troubled minds. And your spirit, my lady of Bragollach,\" he tells her, \"is as unquiet as mine, I deem.\" This garners a small, sad smile.

Dropping her eyes momentarily as concern clouds her sea blue eyes, Aearwen slowly raises her eyes to once again meet those of Thorondur, seriousness etched in the beautiful lines of her face, \"The truth of my unrest has been easily discovered by you Thorondur. Visions of darkness and worry about the evil threatening us brought me from the peace of slumber.\" Picking up the book she smiles a wry smile, \"Oft times, this helps ease those fears as the lines of beauty take me to another place.\"

Shaking the cloud of darkness from her countenance, Aearwen gives Melandria nod of greeting, the light of the lantern making the auburn of her hair glint, \"Nice to meet you Melandria, another Bragollach in Dol Amroth, shall make things interesting.\"

Nodding her head in agreement, Aearwen rests her head against the back of the chair, a soft sigh, barely audible slips from the depth of her being as her eyes question Thorondur without words, probing for answers before she finally speaks. \"Disquiet can stem from many factors and run deep, oft without anyone aware of the turmoil, do you not agree?\"

Melandria inclines her head towards Aearwen. \"I am surprised to see so many relatives within the Citadel. My father told me I would be assisting Gwenethi n her duties, but I had not idea that there were so many more Brogollaches.\"

Now looking to the younger girl, Melandria, Thorondur\'s smile becomes touched with irony. \"If none of them take after their lost Lord Indilzar, I would be happier.\"

A tone of sarcasm bites into the words of the Lady of Ethring-Bragollach, \"There are more Bragollach\'s than...\", falling into silence for a second before she clears her throat in embarassment. \"Yes Melandria, there are many of our fine family to be found here in Dol Amroth. I am sure you will be pleased to make the acquaintance of each and every one of them.\" Devilment twinkles as she raises one eyebrow in doubt.

Carefully choosing her words as she responds to the infamous elf-friend, \"In the Misties, I experienced...\", a soft expression of awe and wonderment slips across Aearwen\'s face as she struggles to bring words to the visions tumbling through her mind.

Evading the question of the Lord Girithlin, Aearwen instead directs her conversation to Melandria, \"Lord Indilzar is a hero of Gondor, well known for his bravery, be careful when you speak of his actions in Rohan. That is a sore spot not meant for idle conversation. Many wagging tongues brought harsh criticism of our fair House Lord, ex-House Lord and you will find yourself at odds to speak unkindly of him among the Bragollachs, nay, in Dol Amroth at large, I would venture to say.

Melandria looks to Aearwen and then to Thorondur. Her soft voice ringsout melodically. \"I did not say Lord Indilzar\'s actions were good or ill. I just meantioned I know what had happened in Rohan. \" She smiles to her cousin. \"But I thank you for your words of warning, dear cousin.\"

Anger flashes through her eyes as Aearwen turns to Thorondur, \"Nay! He is not mad, crazed with his desire to fight the darkness that threatens us all, but mad! Nay! Do not speak of Indilzar in such a manner. Have you ever been witness to his brillance on the fields of battle, mighty sword swinging against our enemies?\", her voices rises with each word spoken, a scarlet flush rising up her neck to tinge her porcelain cheeks.\" Drawing in a long cleansing breath as the sound of Melandria breaks through her consciousness, Aearwen glances at her with a wan smile, \"As Thorondur so clearly stated, blood must be defended and upheld by blood. And with that said, I welcome you to Dol Amroth.\"

Now speaking, now silent, now standing and speaking again Thorondur moves and gives life to speech with the eloquence of another, older time. \"For the blood of Westernesse knows little of these things, save at need, when hearth and home and kin are threatened but the bloodlust drives Indilzar the Bragollach, even to consumption of his spirit. In him, and his warlike ilk,\" he sighs, \"is the fall of our race personified.\"

The frost of winter could not be more glacial than the look that Aearwen gives the Lord Girithlin as the words spill from his lips. Her lips purse into a grimace of distaste as she spits out, \"And the very bloodlust that drives Indilzar is one of the qualities that will protect us all from the darkness.\" Her shoulders shrug in dismissal of the subject, \"Be it wrong or right, he is of my blood and I have the utmost of respect for the man, his bravery is without question, one of the finest I have ever witnessed.

Into the voices -- that of the man and the woman -- one mild and the other wrathful -- breaks the sound of merry laughter and mirth, and the doors to the parlour swing open. Thither upon the threshold stands a man, tall and lordly, and bearing a crescent moon for his sigil, with half a dozen others clad even as he is, gathered behind him.

\"Ah! It is indeed as I had heard -- the Girithlin speaks ever in riddles and cunning words!\" and with a clear laugh, the tall one sweeps in, and behind him, the doors swing shut.

To the three in the chamber he bows gracefully in the manner of the Southern Dunedain, even as his gaze -- keen and sharp, belying his laughter -- sweeps over them ere coming to rest on Thorondur.

A shocked gasp sounds as Aearwen\'s hands splay across her chest, practically jumping from her chair to turn her back on the offending words. Dark auburn tresses shimmer in the lamplight as her head shakes in vehement denial, \"Do not speak thusly of Indilzar.\" Whirling around quickly she barks out in question, \"If Indilzar were standing before you, would you find the courage to speak these words to him?\"

Suddenly aware of the group that entered the parlour, Aearwen pauses in her words as the tall one sweeps in and obviously is known to the Lord Girithlin. Quietly retaking her seat, her hands tremble slightly as they once again pick up the tome, an obvious distraction to take her mind off of the words of Thorondur.

Melandria looks to Aearwen with some pitty behind her dark eyes. She looks to Thorondur and to the newcomer. She curtsies slightly and speaks in a low soft tone. \"If you will excuse me. I have duties to attend to.\" She the moves to

the door and slips out the door without saying another word.

Thorondur(#13821)] \"I would,\" says Thorondur, calmly and without hesitation, to Aearwen though his words are laced with distant sorrow. \"He wouch extend our reach too far further, I deem, than the hand of Gondor may yet be moved in this benighted Age. And in so reaching, we would lose at least that hand--if it is not indeed clutched and pulled at, so that we are tugged into darkness ere our time is come.\"

But now he looks to the Isilrim, the laughing one, yet still his smile remains sad, this Thorondur Girithlin. \"I do not counsel cowardice, but rather I say: to risk overmuch, blinded by bloodlust as Indilzar is, is fool\'s play. Yet argue awhile longer, my lady,\" he quips more lightly, grinning down at Aearwen ere side-stepping away. \"You are ever more lovely when angered.\"

Her sense of humour, ever a bane of her existance, Aearwen cannot resist a soft laugh at the last words of Thorondur. Shaking her head again she says simply, \"I have no wish to argue with you M\'lord, but defend Indilzar, I will until the bitter end, his or mine. And if that makes my beauty even more lovely, than you are the lucky recipent of that visage.\"

To the other end of the chamber the Knights of Isilrim move now, their voices drifting in low murmurs to where their lord stands -- and he seats himself, even as the name of Indilzar is spoken...

..and freezes thus -- for a scant moment, no more. A moment in which his laughter dies a sudden death, and his face twists. And then, it is past, and he leans back with long legs clad in supple leather stretched before him.

Cool and measuring, he regards Aearwen, and softly he murmurs, \"Indilzar...\". And louder then, \"So it is he you are kinswoman to, Lady of Bragollach.\"

Cool eyes rake over the man inquiring of Lord Indilzar, the finger of one hand lightly tapping against the tome of poetry resting in her palm. \"Verily, I am a kinswoman to Lord Indilzar. Do you have need to drag his name through the muck tonight as well?\"

A snort of unladylike laughter slips out expectedly as the rakish Thorondur plies flowery words upon her ears. Smiling as she watches the man spin away, an unreadable expression in her sea blue eyes.

A faint shrug, and the Isilrim lord turns to the goblets and wine placed beside the couch, \"Indilzar the Black was valorous and loyal to the Prince, this I will not deny.\" And he spares a quick glance for Thorondur, a brief spark of mirth dancing in his eyes.

A spark which has faded when he turns again to Aearwen with silver goblet held high, \"And he had a dark fever of the mind which drove him without cease. One which may well have led him to his death, and others who followed him, in numbers beyond counting.\"

Her hands raise in helplessness as her words whisper softly, more to the darkness than to anyone, \"What choice is there, but to blindly defend those of bloodlines? Would there be honour in renouncing them for their actions?\" Aearwen drops her head, but not before the forlorn expression is visible to the men in the parlour. Softly her head bobs up and down as the words seem to choke her, \"Let us pray to the valar that his death and others cannot be counted.\"

Raising long dark lashes sodden with unshed tears, Aearwen looks at Thorondur through a blur of wetness. One lone tear streaks down her pale cheek to drip onto the satin of her dress. \"Do you think it so easy to renounce Indilzar?\" Her hand rises to wipe the wetness from her cheek as she laughs shakily, \"Perhaps it tis my womanly attributes that cry for the upholding of all of those I love and honour. Or maybe, my own stubborn pride will not allow me to defame his name, either way, it goes through my heart, much like the arrow that pierced my flesh in Osgiliath. The wound is long healed, but the pain is n\'er forgotten.

Flushing in embarassment now, instead of anger, Aearwen wipes the tears from her face and straightens in her chair. Her hands fold and unfold a pleat of her blue satin dress as she chooses her words with care. \"Sit here across from me Thorondur, I do wish to share my experience in the Misties with someone. Since my return to Dol Amroth, I have held it guarded to my heart like a secret treasure.\" The high colour of emotion making her eyes luminous in the light of the parlour.

The look in the woman\'s eyes grow distant as she focuses on the memories of those nights in the Misties, her words softly lilting as she speaks, not looking at the man seated across from her, but aware of his presence. \"The encampment was just to the East of Lorien, it was a bright night in the Misties.\" Sighing softly as her eyes closes in remembrance, continuing onward with a smile on her face, \"The grasses were blowing gently with the night breeze, the sounds of the night echoing softly when suddenly, even the cicadas stopped their sound as if aware of something otherworldly.

Laughing softly as she tells the man, \"Many men had I attended to in the healers tent that day and was outside composing my thoughts when the hair on the back of my neck made me aware of a presence.\" Shaking her head as she laughs, \"Foolish to recall this part, but I bent to draw the dagger from my calf and suddenly...how to say this? But a ring of brazen orange appeared on the outside of the form of a man in the distance.\"

Listening intently, the lord nods, a subtle inclination of his head. As all of Thorondur\'s movements are, it has the impression of care and consideration, yet the timeless grace and spontaneity of a thing more natural than smiling.

Aearwen continues with her recitation, \"No explanation can be given for my actions, but somehow, I felt in awe and safe as this -vision- appeared and disappeared around me. Laughing like a child, I put away my dagger and followed the light as it danced to the East and then back to the West. The echo of my own laughter was returned to me as I clearly saw the form of a very tall man with silver white hair, a blinding white light surrounded his presence but his eyes were dark and piercing for a moment before he was gone from my vision.\" Her eyes open in puzzlement to question Thorondur, \"The feeling of awe and wonder is the thing that puzzles me to this day. Two times did these visions come to me in the Misties, oft times aware of their presence long before the visions of lights were visible.\'

Aearwen ponders the man\'s words and then says, \"Their were two such lights and visions the one night and the countenance of the one, the man with the silver mane. Oh! I forgot, as he disappeared from sight there was a mantle of green slip over the blinding white. Anyway, the face of that tall man was sharp, with grim eyes painful and piercing.\" Her laughter sounds again as she admits, \"Too long had I been without sleep and my actions were not of sound mind as I followed the lights and when my own laugh came back to me, it was my laugh, yet somehow, queer and ageless, like that of a parent amused by the innocence of a child.\" Rubbing her eyes tiredly she grins, \"Next you will be saying that I am as mad as Indilzar.\"

Thorondur says, \"There is a pause: a long and silent pause, when no sound comes to pass, and maybe time does not either. Then, at last, the young lord answers. \"Not mad,\" says Thorondur at length. \"Not mad at least. Yet trifled with, maybe, by some of the Elder Race who care not for the doings of our mortal world as the Wise among them do.\" Frowning, he falls silent again before saying, \"This troubles me, that any should behave so.\"\"

Confused, Aearwen asks of Thorondur, \"Trifled with? The vision I saw filled me with hope, of beauty, awe, warmth....I struggle to find the words to explain the magic of the experience. As the Gondorian host rode away from the Misties, I swear to you, my heart felt like slapping the reins of my horse and riding back to find what I had seen.\"

A shiver runs through Aearwen as her eyes grow frightened and worry mars her brow. Leaning closer to Thorondur she peers into his face, searching for the truth of her next question. \"Would you venture to guess why this happened?\" Softly speaking, \"No, surely you don\'t mean to say they are the reason for my discontent since my return home?\" Swallowing with great difficulty and her tongue moistens dry lips her gaze rests on the man, but a look of horror fills her eyes now, long gone is the amusement and happiness of those nights in the Misties.

Finally, the spell is broken it is his clear, melodic voice that does it. \"Nay, lest you create it in your heart. For it is not given Men to feel the Sea-longing, or to be touched in the manner which the Eldar can be touched. Their only power might be that stirring of hope, or its husbandry,\" he proclaims, \"but never can anything harmful come of them. Whatever troubles you... they are not the source of it, at least.\"

Blowing out a long breath of relief, Aearwen leans back in her chair, limp and exhausted, suddenly aware of the tension that had her in its clutches. Long do her sea blue eyes look upon the face of Thorondur, as if questioning the very soul of the man, seeing things she does not understand there in his own eyes of blue. Time passes unknown as the parlour is silent save the two figures seated there, each lost in their silent perusal of the conversation that passed between them during the darkness and well into the light of day.

Finally the melodic sound of the woman\'s voice rings out, \"What a night we have had Lord Girithlin. Dare I say how much I have enjoyed your company on this night or would that be too bold for a noble woman such as myself?\" The teasing light of her humour bestowed once again upon the lovely countenance.

Laughter tinkles out like the ringing of a fine silver bell as Aearwen shakes her head, \"I dare say the worst would probably scald my ears.\" Cocking her head to one side her expression is one of pleasant surprise, \"Tis humourous to find myself thinking of you in glowing terms of enjoyment when our first meeting was less than pleasant.\" Holding out one tiny soft hand she smiles sweetly, \"Shall we call a truce and be friends, regardless of the bickering that is ever present between our two houses?\"

Thorondur takes her hand in his own, lightly, and nods over. \"So be it,\" he says with an air of finality, and smiling solemnly sets a chaste kiss upon it ere releasing.