(Archive) Luthien Reborn
From the archives of the Gondorian
Borgilas and Lothiriel
======================== Steward\'s Reckoning ========================
IC time is: Late Night < About 2:02 AM >
IC day is: Elenya
IC date is: 29 Narvinye
Moon phase: Full
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: 3019 TA
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RL time: Fri Dec 17 20:40:50 1999
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*Note - Log supplied by Borgilas*
Dol Amroth: Prince\'s Castle - Hanging Gardens(#30073Rn)
A burst of verdure tucked in the space between the citadel to the north and the cliffs leading down to the sea on the south and west. The Gardens are surrounded by a slightly raised terrace, in which grow trees of all sizes and descriptions, from magnificent ancient lebethron to youthful rowan, their boughs and branches overhanging the periphery of the garden. Interspersed in the interior are massive chiseled cubes upon which rest pillars as tall as the trees while smooth stone arches between. Plants and vines spill from these arches in green cascades, birds and insects flitting among them. Sparse grass clings to the ground under this canopy, unable to grow thicker in the shadows beneath.
Though there are lanterns here, attached cunningly to the columns so that they do not show when unlit, they do little to brighten a place that Yavanna has claimed for her own. Insects hover about the flames, and small pools of light are indeed created, but they are insignificant in the vast, leafy darkness of the Gardens. Vaster at night, as they vanish into the shadows, leaving only the trickling sound of the water running in channels through the archways, the rustle of leaves, and the distant crash of surf on rocks.
A freezing mist is falling gently from the darkened, overcast sky.Your breath clouds the air in front of your face.
Contents:
Lothiriel
Obvious exits:
Archway
[Lothiriel]
At night -- indeed, at almost any time -- the gardens are a peaceful place. However, they are more so when the sun has fallen and small pools of light shed by hidden lanterns form roundish stepping stones on the pavement and highlight the mysterious and leafy shadows. Few people walk the gardens so late, and they do so mainly to calm a troubled mind, for it is indeed a calming place at any hour. From the far end, hidden from view of most by the green and black canopy of trees and leaves, comes the soft sound of a woman\'s song. Lonely and sorrowful, yet oddly at peace, the song, in whatever language it may be, is oddly comforting.
[Borgilas]
The late-night mist and drizzle of winter does not seem to touch the gardens, now filled with their mysterious, haunting music. A figure clad in striking red moves amid the darkling shadows, standing out like a brilliant flower or brightly-plumed bird against the muted greens and browns, but moving rather more like an old and frail man--though it is not quite either. A cane of polished blackwood flicks out of the figure\'s robes and aids his shambling wanderings--his hooded head darts hither and thither, obviously seeking the song\'s font.
[Lothiriel]
The song continues without pause, quiet and drifting, soothing the senses while at the same time irking the listener who recognizes its foreign words as just that. One who draws closer can spot two men, tall, silent, and armed standing just outside the light, keeping the entirety of the gardens under their stern and steady gaze. They stand some yards from each other, and between them, on a marble bench, sits a young woman clad almost completely in white. As she sings, she gently strokes the head of a small bird perched on her hand.
[Borgilas]
The red-clad man bobs and shuffles, the rasps of leaves and his heavy cloth nearly--but not totally--drowned out by the song of the woman. He pauses once he catches sight of her and the small bird she pets, and throws back his hood, watching, face barely visible in the green-tinted shadows.
[Lothiriel]
The two tall knights move to reach for their blades, yet as the man\'s hood is removed, recognition causes one of them to relax and he shoots a glance to the other with instructions of that nature. Rustling leaves and shuffling feet give the Princess cause to halt her song and clutch at the bird on her hand as she glances about wildly for the source of the disturbance.
[Borgilas]
Borgilas moves further into the light cast by the Princess\' fitful lanterns, and bows stiffly, apologetically. \"Forgive the interruption, Highness,\" he says, his voice less ragged though still not wholly returned to its full timbre. \"I had thought for a moment that this was some glade in far-off Beleriand, and that the songbird Tinuviel had returned to alight once more in the Mortal Realm...\"
[Lothiriel]
Her grip on the bird relaxing as she also recognizes the figure, the young Lothiriel resumes stroking the soft feathers of its head. The bird, oddly enough, does not seem to mind in the least and is quite comfortable. Not moving at all otherwise, she gives a soft nod of her head, and ignores the Bragollach\'s compliment. \"You look well enough, old man. I pray you are mending quickly from your encounter with the sour wine?\"
[Borgilas]
Borgilas says, \"I mend as quickly as my constitution and age allow, Highness--not inconsiderable. We of the Bragollach at least have it in our favor that we do not die easily. I tired of the stink of the Healing Halls, though none of the healers there would allow me to slip back to mine own chambers, I did manage to convince them of my need for a constitutional.\" he smiles, then, slightly, and adds, \"Though they should be quite surprised, methinks, to find me taking it at so late an hour...\" He coughs suddenly, leaning heavily on his cane and covering his mouth with his free hand--a hacking cough that does no little to belie bold words. \"Might I ask of the song that thou sang\'st before my arrival? I found the words both familiar and foreign...\"
[Harvalion (Lossaran)]
Quiet footsteps seem almost improper for a giant of a man like Harvalion, but indeed his step is so light that he arrives to the left flank of the Princess, her guards and the Bragollach, without so much as a sound. Out of the darkness rumbles a deep baritone voice, saying without introduction of any kind, \"He is right my Princess, Bragollach\'s do not die easily, and like small flies on a rotting apple they seem to be all over fair Dol Amroth.\" A step forward is taken showing the man who speaks is heavily armoured and enormous in size. A bow and a tiny smile is placed before Lothiriel as he continues, \"Hail Lothiriel, daughter of my Prince.\"
Borgilas turns to the newcomer, and his mouth twists. \"Ah, the brutish knight from Lossarnach...how charming.\"
[Lothiriel]
\'As I said in the healing halls, Bragollach, I would be quite displeased with you if you /did/ die easily.\' Pausing, the Princess considers her words and adds, \'For that matter, I should be quite displeased with you if you die at all, and trust you will limit your walking about to keep my displeasure at bay.\' At the approach of another man, her guards once more move towards their steel, and this time do not relax so easily. Lothiriel glances away from the red-clad Knight and towards the newcomer, and her words are not soft. \'If you consider my father\'s land a rotting apple, good sir, that there be Bragollach flies ready to eat it up when it rots away...\' Trailing off, perhaps at a loss to finish the sentence, perhaps for the sake of thinking, the Princess never does finish her words and slowly, softly, falls back into song. \"
Harvalion looks upon the Princess with curiosity and shakes his head, interupting her song. \"No offense to my lady, but you have not travelled to the hills where I dwell and seen from afar the state of things here. Corruption seeps into Gondor while we speak and your precious land whithers around you. The borders and mountains overflow with things most foul, I have not had much in either man or supply from Dol Amroth, despite my requests.\" Taking a breath and turning to the Knight who rests upon his cane. \"Instead, all resources are kept here to feed and sleep invalid,\" a pause and a crossing of arms, \"old Knights.\"
Borgilas snorts. \"Forlong has much to learn if he sends such as thee as envoy. What ails thee in Lossarnach, friend? Is the weather too chill this time of year for thy lord\'s feasts?\"
[Lothiriel]
Ignoring the bickering of the two men, even ignoring the insults thrown at her home by the big knight, Lothiriel continues her quiet song and strokes the head of the bird in her hand who, at the contention, becomes a little restless. \"
Borgilas tilts his head as the song resumes, and essays, \"
Harvalion returns the snort at Borgilas\' words, drawing in a breath before unfolding his arms, \"Stop speaking in tongues I do not understand. My lord Forlong has seen more winter and death than you shall ever witness, friend.\" The last word is sneered as if it cuts the giant Knight for uttering it. He is about to continue when he looks upon the Princess again, seeming to forget his words and narrowing his eyes. He turns a quirked eyebrow to Borgilas as if to ask, \"Is there something wrong with her?\"
[Lothiriel]
\'There is nothing wrong with her, good sir. Nor is there anything wrong with Dol Amroth, the great realm ruled by her beloved father.\' Finally turning steel grey eyes up to meet those of the larger knight, she speaks in a clipped tone, \'It would do you very well to remember this.\' And to this she adds another stanza, ignoring the Bragollach\'s question: \"
Borgilas stiffens at the man\'s tone. \"Thou hast not the authority to issue commands to one of the Blood--whether thou be\'est here or in thine own snowy home, outlander.\" He turns to consider the enormous man fully, and then adds, musingly, \"It may be that thy size has less to do with mannish upbringing than, as I now think likely, the influence of trolls in thy bloodlines--for any true man of Gondor would recognize the tongue of old Numenor whether he understood it or no.\" He spreads his hands, then, glancing once more toward the Princess, his expression softer. \"And alas for me that I fall into the latter category, to a great extent...\" For the man\'s unspoken question he has no answer--he has not even seemed to note it.
Borgilas says in Adunaic, \"I hear some of thy words--Knight, moon, and maiden...but the tale is unknown.\"
Harvalion moves another step closer to Borgilas and growls out his words, \"For her sake I shall take my leave of you Bragollach, for your slander angers me that I might show violence before someone who has no need to see such things.\" To Lothiriel, he bows once, and says, \"Tell your father that I am still in wait for an audience and go weary of waiting about.\" Turning on his heal long strides carry him off quickly.
Suddenly her song stops, and the young woman snorts rather loudly, \"And nor shall it be, Bragollach, until you keep a civil tongue and learn to say the words rightly. Your sounds are all in the wrong places, old man, and your accent is horrible.\" Sharp words they are in contrast to her soft song, and they soon round on the other Knight, calling out, \"He shall hear, good sir... Oh, he shall hear!\"
Borgilas watches the man depart, one brow raised like a raven\'s wing over his storm-grey eyes, but says no more to him. At the Princess\' words to him, though, he turns and reddens slightly in the dim light. \"Forgive my uncouth speech, then, Highness--I meant to inquire as to the nature of thy song, for some words leap out at me: moon, Knight, and Maiden I have heard more than once...I have essayed to inquire this, but reading about a tongue and speaking it are oft two greatly varying beasts.\"
The young woman nods softly, eyeing the departing man oddly as she speaks to Borgilas. \"I understood your inquiry -- Or enough of it. Your grammar is well enough, or such small things, but your pronunciation leaves much to be desired.\" Pausing to set the bird down on the bench from which it promptly hops away into the foliage. \"\'Tis a song about a moon, a Knight, and a maiden. You have picked that up well enough... A Golden Knight whose word he has broken, and the woman who suffers for it.\"
Borgilas narrows his eyes, a shadow crossing his features. \"A Golden Knight, Highness? Doth he bear a charge upon his breast? The Star of Girithlin, perhaps, rather than the Flame of Bragollach? For if so, I think I know the tale--though not the song...\"
\"Perhaps you know it, Bragollach.\" And she begins once more, singing the entire song, this time in speach that Borgilas can understand:
\"Fair was the moonlight Knight..
That bore the Rowan Shield..
Loud and clear were the Raven\'s cries, that said, \'Now here lies blood\'..
Strong was the mountain\'s stream..
That flowed into the vale..
Soft and sweet the maiden\'s song as she watched the waterfall..
Cool was the midnight moon..
That shone the world\'s light..
Sad and warm was the maiden\'s heart as she kept kept watch for her Knight, singing:
Now fly well my good grey hawk, and fetch me the gold young Knight..
For his word was given, once and twice, to return by the setting sun...\"
And with that she stops, falling silent and adding in a whisper, \"Perhaps a star indeed... Perhaps a star...\"
[Borgilas]
His face darkens now in sooth, flushing with blood, returning color--far too much color--and he nods. \"I know the tale indeed, Highness,\" he growls, and then visibly calms himself. \"Though the poesy is new to me, and fair--is it thine?\"
[Lothiriel]
Inclining her head, the Princess looks innocently at the Bragollach. \"Perhaps you ought return to the halls of healing, good sir? Your color does not look healthy. Or does my song offend you?\"
Borgilas shakes his head. \"Nay, Lady, the song is not offensive. it is a memory that plagues me...\" he frowns, rubbing a hand on his brow, and then waves a hand, frowning, searching through the haze of his own emotion to the topic at hand \"...the pronunciation, lady--perhaps thou might speak the poem again? Or at the least, the words that in my ignorance I have maligned...\"
[Lothiriel]
Perhaps another time, Bragollach,\" the young woman replies, suddenly distant. \"For even if you feel not faint, I do, and ought return to my rooms.\" Standing, she gives a soft smile, and, using smaller words that he may likely understand, she adds in the ancient tongue of Numenor, \"A good evening to you, Sir Borgilas. I do hope you regain your strength quickly... For some, you know, do not.\"
[Borgilas]
Chagrined, the Knight dips his head. \"As thou say\'st, Highness. I think I shall tarry awhile and watch the dawn ere I return to bed.\"
Speaking no more, Lothiriel simply stands, beckons to the knights who form her escort, and gives Borgilas a tilt of her head in farewell as she steps through the foliage towards the entrance.
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Speaking no more, Lothiriel simply stands, beckons to the knights who form her escort, and gives Borgilas a tilt of her head in farewell as she steps through the foliage towards the entrance.