(Archive) Cutie and Indy\'s Characters meet!

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Weather: Cloudy

Time: Late Afternoon

Season: Summer

Date: Mersday - July 17, 3021

Real Time: Thu Oct 12 17:58:42 2000

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*Note - log supplied by Drenlyn*

Dol Amroth: Prince\'s Castle - Lower Courtyard

A broad expanse of emerald limned in white greets you when first you set eyes upon the lower of the citadel\'s courtyards. A valley of grass and stands of trees between the terraced wall of the upper courtyard to the west, the land dips down and then up again towards the gatehouse lying distantly eastward. To the north and south gargantuan walls thrust up, their summit nearly lost to sight atop gleaming stone piled ten times a man\'s height, while buildings lie snug against them. Within the walls\' white embrace, simple paved paths meander amid the green hollows, passing south and west towards an archway set in the walls, and again eastward towards the gatehouse.

The rolling hill flattens towards the south, where a tract of grass serves as agrazing and jousting ground for the Knights\' horses, tended in fair weather andfoul by stableboys and grooms. Strolling along the paths and amid the orchards are gossamer-clad highborn ladies, oft accompanied by young suitors, while noble lads in tattered finery dash between the tree-trunks. Always, though, amid the silks are the blue-and-white of the Prince\'s men about their business, leaving little doubt as to the true purpose behind this idyllic courtyard. Tucked against the battlements to the north is a narrow stair that leads westward up to the upper courtyard, usually heavily trafficked, as are the paths that lead eastward toward the gatehouse and beyond.

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Contents:

Indilzar

Morang

Nimgalad

Aglaring

Ninvainiel

Rorgomir

White Pavillion

Obvious exits:

Smithy , Stables , Archway , Narrow Stair , and Gatehouse

The sun wanes like blood in the east. The day slips and at the fore of the beams of light a shadowed rider hastens his way westward. Black cloaked and bright eyed, the son of Indilkhor rides, or so you know for the Men-at-Arms cry out:

\"What ho! The son of Indilkhor returns! Lord Bragollach, greetings.\"

A perfunctory nod is all that this rider may afford, for he seems indeed grave of face, even more so than the stone-like Men of Gondor.

Even as the clamour of men\'s voices rise in concert, the hollow-echoing footfalls of a creature iron-shod strike against the stony ground from the stable

Clip clop clip clop the ringing reverberates as just another noise in the well traveled courtyard, white stone gilded as it is with the last coppery caresses of the sun.

A figure emerges, one of many, from the stable - but not a usually figure, nay, for she is female - the skirts of a riding habit swirl about her feet, and her steed is no war stallion but rather a dainty palfrey, its coat tinged golden by the last rays of light.

The Lord Bragollach halts his horse and dismounts. He hands the reins of his steed to a stablehand. He then for the first time sets his eyes upon the Lady....

...and the gaze is long...

With a black-gloved hand the Lady Telpekhor pulls her mare\'s reins over her neck, casting her stately gaze about the courtyard. She lifts her chin, and her lips part, but the object of her almost beckoning is taken it seems, the reins of another mount in hand.

She frowns.

\"Hail Lady of the Swan,\" begins the Bragollach. \"I am Indilzar, son of Indilkhor of the Bragollach. Might I ask of you your own name? For I wonder how strange a sight it is to see one who has delighted in the fair things of Arda, and indeed wears the garb of the House of Pinath Gelin and not to have met under star or moon.\"

With a swift flick of the hand Indilzar pushes back his cape and bows.

Ninvainiel tilts her head and turns her frowning visage upon the Knight, her features casting dark shadows across her noble skin in the long light. She shakes her clenched hand once, twice - what am I do with these now? He motion seems to say - and then a resigned shrug most imperceptible.

A great smile breaks her stormy features, shining full upon the Lord Bragollach, and she curtsies - awkwardly perhaps for one hand still is occupied with her mount - and speaks warmly,

\"Ninvainiel, my lord, and indeed of the house of Hirluin, though not come from the Green Hills.\"

Casually walking from the stables with his left arm lightly bandaged Drenlyn stares up at changing sky. Sighing he draws his gaze towards the lord and lady as he hears their introductions. Carefully moving towards them Drenlyn bows silently, and a little apart from the pair.

\"Well met,\" says Indilzar. \"And the irony does not pass upon me unnoticed, for I have lately tutored my squire on the Lay of Hirluin and his rescue.\" He glances back toward the silent squire, \"Come forth Aglaring.\"

Stepping forward nervously Drenlyn bows to Indilzar, \"Your pardon lord, but I believe that you have mistaken me for another. I am Drenlyn, son of Drenelither. I fear that I have yet to hear the Lay that you speak of, though I fear that I have missed a valuable opportunity.\"

Indilzar turns and looks at Drenlyn surprised, \"Oh. I wonder where Aglaring went off to. Drenlyn is it? I do not know you. Who are you squired to?\"

The Lady\'s mare flicks an irritated tail, and a hind foot scrapes with the grating squeal of iron upon stone. Ninvainiel rebukes her with a light tap of her crop and again cast her gaze around, before turning back to Indilzar.

The slightest crease deepens beneath the Ninvainiel\'s eyes, and there is the slightest twitching of an eyebrow - yet she is such an innocent creature, really, and so young! \"My Lord Hirluin regrets, I am certain,\" she says with impeccable enunciation, \"that his affairs keep him so far from this city that the squires might not learn from his own mouth the stories of his exploits.\"

A somber glance is passed back to the lady, \"Oh in truth Lady I do not know rightly how much the Lord Hirluin would like to recount those dark days, when war brooded over the White walls of Pelargir and the blood ran thick and he was caught by the hands of the Southrons. Not so long ago it was, and yet to the memory of many, remote.\"

The eyes of Indilzar dim, \"As if a dream...\"

\"Hrm,\" is the grunted reply.

\"I hear that blood still runs here in Dol Amroth!\" Ninvainiel exclaims, before clapping a leathered hand to her mouth, eyes wide. She turns back to her mare and tugs upon one stirrup.

Standing firm Drenlyn faces Indilzar with a faint flicker of sympathy, \"I am squired to Sir Thorondur, lord, though I am glad to offer my services to you at need.\" Turning to the lady Drenlyn bows low, \"It may be as you say my lady, but I still believe it a loss for squires not to hear the tales of old, though they be but memories.\"

His eyes widening at the Lady\'s comment Drenlyn turns pallid, and shakes his head muttering

Leather snaps upon leather as Ninvainiel pulls at her stirrup, her face ghastly and white turned away busily.

\"Blood runs deep here,\" replies Indilzar evenly. \"And not the least among the proud sons of Imrazor. Yet ere I speak further, I would ask the Lady to where she would ride, and if, by her will she needs a companion to guard her.\"

Then the proud son of Indilkhor sets his sea grey eyes upon Drenlyn and says, \"Many tales are told in this land, and you shall be taught many by the Lord-Herald. Be glad he is your master, for he is wise, though perhaps too soft on his servants.\"

The Lady\'s face is still turned towards her mare, but clearly she bites her tongue as her breast rises and falls with a deeply drawn breath. When it is turned again towards the Knight and squire, he chin is low and her eyes wide and upturned.

\"I had not yet thought where I would ride - I generally go wither my mare would take me, you understand, Lord. Yet,\" she says with a small smile, \"I would not mind a guard if it would not be a bother to guard such a small and insignificant trifling maid as myself.\"

\"It is my duty and my pleasure,\" replies Indilzar with a brief smile on his face. \"I can tell you a tale or two if it is your desire and perhaps the young Drenlyn shall come with us and learn more of the Bragollach and his mysterious ways.\"

He spares a smile at Drenlyn, but there is a strange menace in his eyes.

\"Oh, please do, Drenlyn?\" Ninvainiel implores.

\"Such words have been said of the Lord-Herald, but I can vouch that he is not as soft as some make him to be.\" Eyeing Lord Bragollach carefully Drenlyn shifts twisting his gaze slowly between the Lady and Lord. At last his face softens, as if having finally decided something.

Turning to the Lady, \"I doubt there would be a bother my lady, for a trifling maid you are not. I my self would gladly accompany both of you but for a lack of stead\"

Indilzar laughs for a moment and calls to one of the stablehands.

Soon enough a small mottled brown horse is brought forth and next to them, Indilzar\'s accustomed steed: Morang.

Indilzar mounts the horse and says, \"I understand the hills about Tarnost are fair this time of year.\"

Ninvainiel\'s laugh is gay as she cries, \"So easily remedied! Lo! The stables are right here!\"

She glances upwards to the Lord Bragollach, and nods, but her expression is perplexed.

\"Sir!\" she says to Drenlyn, holding a hand out to him before he mounts his horse. \"Will you not give me a leg up?\"

Laughing gently at himself Drenlyn smiles, \"It seems that I will have the pleasure of accompanying both of you.\" Moving towards Ninvainiel, Drenlyn bows and assists her, \"I will most surely give you a leg up my lady, or two if I could. A shame for ignoring your need for so long my lady, I ask your pardon for a squire\'s ignorance.\"

\"And mine Lady,\" says Indilzar brusquely. \"I have been far afield and only my own blindness did not show your need to me.\"

A tickled laugh bubbles forth as Ninvainiel mounts, and continues even through her words: \"The Lord Girithlin shall hear of this!\" she vows as she settles in her saddle, drawing her reins tight against her mare\'s mouth.

\"And as for you, my lord!\" she cries. \"Shame on you! Who shall I report you to?\"

Indilzar looks sarcastically shameful as he says, \"Lord Bragollach of course.\"

\"Ah,\" Ninvainiel mouths delicately, now clucking her mount forward.

Now mounting his horse, Drenlyn blushes, \"Indeed he should my lady, and when he does hear of this, I will face his the severity of being his squire and failing in my duties.\"

Indilzar tightens his riding cap and says, \"I hope m\'lady you are not too swift of a rider. For Morang is strong, and good with the long run, but not so with the sprint at need.\"

Yet then a horn bellows out and he halts...

A squire comes out bearing the livery of the Prince, \"M\'lord Bragollach. There are matters of the Prince that need your attention, posthaste.\"

Indilzar frowns, \"Damn bureaucrats.\" He then looks to the Lady, \"Can perhaps you shall entertain me again? And next time I shall prove more chivalrous.\"

Ninvainiel lifts a melodramatic hand to her brow. \"What is this realm coming to, that a Lady is so easily discarded in favor of the Prince? Alas! But Drenlyn, I hope, will prove a sufficient guard. What\'s more,\" she adds with a twist of her lips, \"Should he do well, I might even keep word of his ill-manners from reaching the Knight-Herald!\"

The Lady Telpekhor shakes her dark locks and urged the Knight away. \"There is always next time, My Lord,\" she says before trotting off into the darkness leaving naught but the fading echoes of hoof-falls.