Explaining to Lady Laeraelin

From without, the Chapterhouse of the Swan is as austere as the rest of grim Minas Tirith, but within it\'s halls the refinement and artistry of Belfalas prevails, making its well-appointed halls an oasis - not just for the Knights stationed here - but for other exiles of the south, and even the western lands.

The small woman who enters Ulmo\'s Hall does not look like she is seeking the haven of an oasis. Indeed, she looks more akin to Osse - or perhaps worse yet, Uinen after her husband\'s frothy rage has broken her best set of china.

Laeraelin nee Telpekhor, the Lady Azrabar strides into the hall, her eyes ablaze with fire. She stands just within the door, hands on hips, searching the room carefully for the one she seeks.

Not long will she have to seek.

One Blue Squire, still in a tunic that is sodden, sans swordbelt and sword, but with very heavy tome, hurries through here. For the second time this day, he draws up short, halting abruptly, this time on seeing the Lady Laeraelin. His face, which holds no joy at all--indeed, nothing but a keen sadness--falls even further, if possible. But he does not change the course of his steps to avoid her, only going up to her and stopping to give a short bow.

There is someone else here also, walking with head held high. Tathar looks around carefully, and her eyes land on Menelglir before she sees Laeraelin. She starts towards him.

Despite her small stature, Laeraelin manages to give the impression she is glowering /down/ her nose at the taller youth now standing before her. Her lips are pressed tight in an angry line as she simply regards Menelglir intensely for a few moments. Then she speaks: \"Please tell me the rumors are NOT true. Please tell me that you did not encourage, watch AND wager on a contest of steel between the Haradrim Ambassador and a LADY of refined birth?\" Her tone is controlled and even save for a word here and there - but the undertone of anger is unmistakable.

\"Wager?!\" Menelglir\'s astonished reply echoes through the hall, so that all eyes are turned on the pair now. \"By Eru himself, I did no such thing!\" he objects in the same loud tone. Then...coloring slightly, he frowns and glances about, voice lowered as he turns back to Laeraelin.

\"My only fault was hesitation. In that I stopped myself from striking a Lady of refined birth and thus she gained my sword. And...\" He sighs heavily, \"that she gained my sword at all.\"

But Laeraelin gets there before her. Tathar stops uncertainly as she hears the angry words. But what is she saying... a contest? Tathar takes another step forwards, then hesitates. Then, taking a deep breath, she steps up. \"No blame should be given to the Squire,\" she says. \"The blame is mine.\" She looks over at Menelglir. \"I don\'t expect you to accept my apology, but it is my fault that these things have come to you. I am sorry.\" Nodding to both, she starts to turn away.

Laeraelin considers the Squire\'s response for a moment, frowning and lowering her arms to her sides. \"Then perhaps you should...\" she begins, but halts when Tathar joins them. Lady Azrabar studies the woman as she speaks, her frown growing deeper, though she seems to be searching her memory as much she listens to the explanation. \"A moment, please,\" she says when the woman begins to move away. \"Are you the lady of refinement in question?\"

\"Should? Should what? Already I am to answer to Findon, whom Sir Gwendion has transferred me to out of...I don\'t know..shame at not being able to trust me,\" Menelglir says with a heavy sigh. \"I must go to him now, in fact. What can...\" He hesitates, stepping toward Tathar and nearly starting to answer her, but holding off as Laeraelin speaks instead.

\"Then perhaps,\" Laeraelin repeats, shifting her calmed gaze between the blustering Squire and noblewoman, \"you should both tell me what happened. I would dispense with the wild rumors and learn the truth.\"

\"You tell her, Lady Tathar,\" Menelglir says quietly, shaking his head. \"I\'ve not the heart to repeat it. And you are wrong, though. It -is- my fault.\"

Tathar looks up at him as he speaks and shakes her own head. Then she turns her attention back to Laeraelin. Swiftly, as if she would rather not say the words, but with no emotion, she tells the story. \"We were at the Steward\'s Arms, Lieutenant Aearon and a scout named Daerthor, drinking. I had tea. There was a sudden shout and the man from the south was unmasked among us. The Lieutenant restored order, and the man sat to speak with Menelglir who arrived then. He said that Gondor should let its women fight, and I told him that some among us could use a sword, myself for one. Menelglir objected to the idea of women fighting, and the man said it was because we were kitchen slaves. I rashly said that I would prove to him we were not and asked the Squire for his sword. He properly refused to give it to me, but the man taunted him saying he should and telling me to hit him. I make no excuse for my actions I don\'t know... I didn\'t intend to attack him, but I...\" For the first time, her voice falters, and she drops her gaze from where it has been not-quite-focused on Laeraelin\'s face, the sick feeling of muscle giving way under steel in her face. Softer, she says, \"I have betrayed the honor of my husband and my house.\"

Lady Azrabar listens, without interruption, until the lady has finished her tale. She glances away from both, her alabaster features unreadable, betraying not her thoughts. \"I see,\" she says, softly, and lifts her eyes to meet those of the squire. \"And you did not encourage this action in any manner, Menelglir?\"

\"Encourage? No,\" Menelglir answers. His voice is quiet and his demeanor has become quite subdued. \"The Southron, he twists words like a knife to the heart untl he gets a reaction. I warned the Lady but not strongly enough and...it was my fault that she was able to get her sword. I tried to prevent it but failed. Miserably so.\" And he _does_ sound miserable. \"I _knew_ what the Haradrim was doing and even so I failed to stop Lady Tathar\'s reaction in time.\"

Tathar listens to this in silence.

Again, Lady Laeraelin appears to consider this latest statement with judicial thoroughness. She takes a breath, her eyes finding those of Menelglir once more, and says: \"I am no more pleased that you failed to keep your sword from a Lady anymore than your Knights are however, this appears to be your only fault in this matter, and this is their business, not mine.\"

\"I am NOT pleased, false or not, that the Telpekhor name has been attached to these outlandish rumors. No doubt, being a man of our blood, you wish to stoically accept the blame and the punishment in silence. However, I would appreciate it if you did your best to dispel these scandalous claims.\"

\"Lady Tathar?\" Lady Azrabar continues, turning her regard smoothly and without hesitation, to the noblewoman beside her, \"I thought you looked familiar,\" she smiles wistfully, \"Can you be the same girl who sought refuge in my manor so many years ago?\"

Astonishment wipes away the remnants of remembered horror, and Tathar looks directly at Laeraelin for the first time. \"Lady ... Laeraelin?\" she asks. \"Is it... I didn\'t recognize you!\"

The look of humiliation that Menelglir wears only increases at this reproach. He hangs his head and nods obediently to Laeraelin--only to look up seconds later to utter a protest.

\"Am I then to go about proclaiming my innocence? It would make me seem a braggart or a liar at best.\"

Tathar looks away from the lady to the Squire. \"I shall tell the truth,\" she says, setting her shoulders against this distasteful task. \"All will know you are not at fault.\"

\"Indeed, it is I,\" confirms Laeraelin, her smile twisting wrly. \"It has been many years and yet I see your aptitude for trouble has not abated with the years.\" Her smile does not fade with that observation, in fact, amusement enters her voice. \"I would dearly love to hear how you have fared this past decade or so, but perhaps now is not the place for it.\"

For the moment, she ignores the squire\'s protest, choosing to continue her address to Tathar. \"I wish whole-heartedly you had left those of my House out of your latest antics, but aside from that - I am in no position to judge whether or not you have shamed your House and husband.\"

The lady nods in approval when the girl offers to spread the truth on her cousin\'s behalf. \"An excellent offer, Lady Tathar.\" Laeraelin glances to Menelglir. \"There you have it, young kinsman. A woman can wield virtue of Truth without being accused of some less virtuous crime. A curious thing, is it not?\"

\"Thank you, m\'lady,\" Menelglir says, bowing to Tathar before he turns to Laeraelin. \"Curious, I suppose. I hope it is a powerful weapon, though. More powerful than wagging tongues.\" He grimaces and looks to the heavy tome he holds, then to both women. \"I am wanted by Sir Findon.\" This is said with a heavy overtone of sadness, followed by a brief pause. \"Excuse me. I must be on my way.\"

\"By attacking an unarmed man,\" Tathar explains. She flushes slightly and says apologetically, \"I didn\'t intend to involve anyone. I didn\'t intend for there to be anything to involve anyone in. The Squire only had the misfortune of being nearby... a mistake, I expect he will take care to avoid in the future.\" She sounds sad.

\"Most likely he will keep a tighter grip on his sword, than shun you,\" retorts Laeraelin, her lips twitching with mirth. But her expression softens when she glances to the Squire and her voice is nearly gentle to suit. \"Go Menelglir, you are excused and forgiven.\"

RA quick nod is Menelglir\'s answer, both to Laeraelin\'s mirth and her pardon. But the young Telpekhor looks overwhemingly sad as he nods, too, to Tathar, then hurries off.

Tathar watches the Squire go and sighs. Then she gives Laeraelin a small, crooked smile that doesn\'t contain much good humor. \"I confess I don\'t know how to go about this. Shout it from the streets? I didn\'t know anyone was spreading such a false rumor, how can I stop it?\"

Laeraelin leans closer to the other lady, her voice low. \"You have already begun, every seemingly occupied knight in this room has heard the true tale - and they will spread it.\"

\"So speak on, to any sympathetic ear, in the company of others.\"

\"Oh!\" Tathar looks around, startled, and blushes. Everyone is very obviously busy. \"I didn\'t know anyone was listening,\" she says, with a naivety more suited to her girlhood days than the young woman she is now.

Laeraelin straightens from her conspiratal pose and smiles. \"Eavesdropping is a both an inconvenience and convenient tool.\"

\"I should return to my manor. I hope that we can meet again, perhaps you would like to come for tea some afternoon?\"

\"Where can I send the invitation?\"

The other woman digests this, then smiles. It is faint, but with more actual feeling than the other. \"I would enjoy that, thank you. I am currently visiting Gweneth Bragollach.\" Surprisingly, Tathar\'s smile widens and amusement dances in her grey eyes.

\"Ah, Lady Gweneth,\" muses Laeraelin. \"There is one who can teach you to wield a sharper weapon than any knight\'s sword. Gweneth the Elder, that is. Though I suspect her granddaughter possesses similar skills.\"

\"It is good to see you again, Lady Tathar. I will send a servant \'round as soon as I can. Good day.\"

Lady Azrabar inclines her brow, then turns and leaves the hall - her skirts rustling like spring leaves in her wake.

Tathar opens her mouth, no doubt to say something sharp, then shuts it again. She glances around the room again at all the people so carefully not watching and not listening, then follows the other woman out of the hall.