(Archive) The Debut of Gweneth Bragollach

March 22, 1999

*Note - log submitted by Gweneth*

As the moonlight pours in through the glass, dropping a soft multi-colored glow down onto the audience below. The only artificial light comes from the stage, men dressed in colorful costumes prance around the stage, casting shadows onto the intricate backgrounds. The crowd sits in a hushed silence only breaking with the occasional cough, or general laughter where it is appropriate. The characters finish their last lines and walk off stage, the crowd roars with applause and the room lightens as ushers lit the lamps around the great room. The cast bows and heads off and people begin to leave the theatre in a large mob of bodies. One of the figures, a tall woman, wraps a cloak around herself, preparing for the cold winter air that sits outside the theatre doors. She grimaces slightly at all of the persons bumping into her and generally getting in her way as she makes her path through the crowd. She stops near the entryway at a booth selling drinks hoping to get a drink to quench her thirst while waiting for the line to leave to shrink to acceptable levels. \"Glass of something...red I suppose,\" she says somewhat tiredly. The man behind the booths nods and finds a bottle of wine and pours it into a glass and hands it to the woman, she tosses a few coins onto the table and leans her back against the booth, watching the people of Minas Tirith leave their house of entertainment.

Remaining in her seat until well after the masses are gone, yet another lone woman moves towards the booths, but not standing in line. Casting an anxious eye at the ever-thinning crowds, she seems to be waiting for someone. Many minutes pass, and it soon becomes apparent that the lone woman is fated to remain that way, at least for tonight. \"He\'s hopeless!\", comes the frustrated cry from her, even as she plunks herself down on the floor.

The woman leaning against the booth grins in an understanding way as she watches the young woman sit on the ground. \"Most men are,\" she adds smiling to the young woman. She watches the last of the people leave the theatre and starts to move to head out the door. She does a double take on the woman and stops, leaning back against the booth. She finishes off her glass on wine and asks the man behind the booth to fill it again. He nods, somewhat annoyed at not being able to leave yet, but with the sounds of coins falling on the booth, his mood quickly changes and he fills yet another glass and hands it to the woman. She eye\'s the woman on the ground carefully, \"What was this particular one\'s fault,\" she questions seeming to be amused at the scene and quickly adds, \"If I am permitted to of course.\"

Aiesha raises an amused eyebrow up at the tall woman, with a rueful chuckle. \"He\'s lost his memory,\" she replies easily. \"Personally, at times I think it\'s merely a good excuse!\" Her face turned thoughtful, just as quickly as it changed to mischievious. \"He\'s also my husband, so I suppose that counts, too!\" With this, she bursts out laughing.

The woman smiles mischievously, \"A dangerous combination, no memory and a wife. I would be careful to watch over that one. Or his memory may lapse at a most,\" she purses her lips searching for the words, \"shall we say, temping time.\" She sips on her drink slowly, and looks down at it. The woman looks up, chuckling softly, \"Where are my manners, would you like a drink. Perhaps allow me to raise the spirits that your husband has seem to forgotten about?\"

Smiling and shaking her head, Aiesha sighs and rises to her feet. \"I\'m afraid I\'ve sworn off the spirits, Lady...it\'s gotten me into more trouble than I can think of.\" Dusting herself off, she chuckles. \"If you are ever in the vicinity of Dol Amroth, I\'d be happy to have you visit...Linhir is my home.\" Her eyes twinkle merrily. \"Though I usually have trouble saying so, the place belongs to my husband, Lord Torelin...\" With that, she waves and makes her way out of the theatre, back to the local inn.

Gweneth watches the woman walk out carefully, examing her every move. She leans back against the booth, speaking softly, \"The woman who just left, a lady of Dol Amroth it seems, do you know her?\" She turns back to face the man behind the booth, her lips curled into a wicked grin.

The pseudo-bartender stares blankly at the woman for a moment and shrugs. \"I have seen her about...\" His voice trails off and he seems to be waiting for something, eyes glittering with greed.

Gweneth smiles, recognizing the look in his eyes. \"I would not think your fault would be the same as her husbands, although, I have been to one healer or two in my time, and have found a cure for forgettfulness that works in most cases.\" She drops a silver dime onto the counter, \"A tip, that will be doubled if the,\" she purses her lips, \"Services rendered are adequate enough.\"

The man leans forward, smelling of too much garlic, smiling faintly as he speaks. \"It is rumoured that Lady Aiesha, wife of the Knight Herald to the Prince, is here in Minas Tirith to help Sir Torelin gain back the memory he has lost. He is very rich, they say but he shows it not. Very powerful, from what I hear. Ties to the Girithlins and the Isilrims both..\" He shrugs, \"That\'s as much as I know, m\'lady.\"

Gweneth turns shaking her head, \"The girl is too young to be married,\" she adds in a disguested tone of voice, \"Much less a lady.\" She downs the rest of her glass and sets it on the top of the booth. \"Fools like him, marrying girls because they are the first ones to follow them into his bed are the reason Gondor is not the glowing empire it once was.\" She shakes her head again, \"This Torelin, from Dol Amroth, what do you know of him and his lost memory he seems to be suffering from?\" She continues not waiting for an answer, seemingly to ask the questions to herself, \"You called him a sir, which means he would be a knight, perhaps one of those who serve the prince in Dol Amroth? But she called him a lord, perhaps the lord of a house. But I know of no house ruled by a Torelin, and certainly none in Linhir.\" She turns and faces the man, her face set, waiting for answers.

The man shakes his head. \"I only know him to be the Knight Herald and the Lord Amrodath. He touched the Dragon-helm of Dor-Lomin..\" He pauses and speaks low, \"He has been to see the Elves and walked the paths of the dead I hear..\" With that he says no more and awaits his second payment.

Gweneth takes a few coins out of her purse and moves to set them on the table. She grins wickedly again and puts them back in her coin purse, \"No, your information is too expensive for its lack of,\" again the words she looks for escapes her for moment but soon she finds it, \"Taste.\" She turns and head for the door, stopping at the exit she turns back to the man behind the booth, \"And, you smell.\" She smirks and walks out of the theatre.