Lond Côl - House Dimaethor: A fortnight of games and festivities

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Joust: Day 2 - Watching the first match

"And try to keep your helmet on, this time."

Macardil chuckled audibly on the way into the small tent, and gave Trevadir a small wave of his hand without turning around. As if to say: "Understood."

---

The day before, late evening

He gave a slow nod when Brenior mentioned Lord Talven. He had participated in the joust just before he had, earlier that day. Macardil had been watching him closely. Lord Talven’s opponent had fallen onto the tilt. And Trevadir had brawled with... his son! Macardil was in part relieved - at least it had not been the senior Lord - but then again, that it had been his son might even make matters worse. Lord Talven was known as a very ambitious man. He would not appreciate anyone brawling with his son, possibly marring their reputation in the process.

“We shall have to hope that Lord Talven will not appreciate his son for allowing himself to be involved in a brawl,” Macardil mused. “And perhaps he will even recognize that bad-mouthing a different Lord loudly and drunkenly will only serve to lower their own standing. Even a Lord with a name as scandalized as mine,” he added wrily.

A light snort escaped him when Brenior said Lord Talven’s son had accused him of 'absurd' things. Macardil had to smile softly, though, when Brenior judged it all as ‘ludicrous’. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. A friend, indeed.

Despite not wishing trouble upon anyone, Macardil's smile grew when Brenior described Trevadir’s actions. “He is not part of the nobility, no. Despite the nobility of his actions in defending a friend.” He sighed. “I would think Toggornir was the one to strike the first blow. With what I know of my young friend, he would not be the one to instigate violence.” He remembered well how Trevadir had done all he could to avoid fighting Devedir’s crewmen, back in Harlond. “But neither will he shy away from partaking in a fight, when necessary,” Macardil added pensively. They would know soon enough what had transpired, he supposed. “With the witnesses as the brawl must have had, the story might spread like wildfire…” Then again, you never quite knew with these things. He gave Brenior a sidelong glance. “So, who won?” He’d never seen the younger Talven in a fight. He had seen Trevadir, however. If he had to guess… Macardil knew behind which of the young men he would stake his claim.

He crossed his arms in turn as he looked out at the sea, almost a mirror of Brenior’s position. Despite the concern he now had for Trevadir, Macardil’s hopes and spirit had been lifted immensely. “Then. Whatever else happens, I can at least count on two friends here.”

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Torthon & Toggornir Talven
Day 2 - Defeated

Watching from the side, Togg winced as he saw his father knocked from his horse. He remembered how that felt from yesterday. And it was disappointing, too. He had hoped his father would win. Torthon had felt rather confident that he would win, and yet... clearly, it was not in the cards. When his father didn't get up right away, Togg frowned and set down his drink, jogging out to where Torthon lay. The horse had run off, and the groom the family had brought along was busy trying to capture him while Togg kneeled down to check on his father.

For a moment, the noise of the crowd had become muffled and distant, and Torthon thought his helmet may have somehow got turned around. His vision seemed dark, and his hearing felt muffled, as if he were in a dream. Maybe he was in a dream. He felt as if he could drift deeper into the fog of sleep, until suddenly, Toggornir's voice roused him. Slowly, the sound of his son's voice calling "Father? Father!" roused him and drew him back. Had he dozed off in his office? As his senses gradually began to return, he focused on the noises around him. After a second or two, he opened his eyes. Toggornir had pulled his helmet off, and he could see sand and his son's worried face looking down at him. "What happened?" He mumbled, slightly disoriented for a moment.

"He unhorsed you," Togg answered, frowning. "You lost the match, Father."

Right, the joust. It all came rushing back as he looked around and found that yes, he was lying on sand, and there were horses near, and the sounds of the crowd cheering for Abrazimir's victory. He recalled taking multiple hits to the same place in his side. That explained why his side felt so sore... He had at first thought it might be due to him falling asleep at a bad angle, perhaps the arm of the chair digging into his ribs... but now he knew that was not the case.

"Are you hurt, Father? How do you feel?"

Torthon groaned as he shifted to one elbow. "Like I was punched in the jaw," He brought a hand up to the sore jaw, where the lance had struck the helmet, which then drove it abruptly into his jaw. He realized that he must have gotten knocked out from the impact. An unexpected blow to the jaw was one of the easiest ways to knock someone out, or so he'd always been told.

"Ugh... I know what that's like," Togg mumbled under his breath, with a light touch to one of his own bruises from the night before, then spoke more to his father, "You'd better get up if you can, or she'll send healers after you and decide you can't ever compete again." Togg informed him with a roll of his eyes, and held out a hand to help his father upright. "Can you get up?"

Letting out a scoffing sort of snort, Torthon nodded and allowed Togg to help him to his feet, though he had to wince as he bent at the rib area, and he caught his breath with a small hiss. Thankfully, they should be too far away for anyone in the stands to observe that, or so he hoped. Especially her. He knew who Toggornir was referring to. Duvaineth. Once he had made it to his feet, he looked up toward the stands where his wife watched with a worried expression, and raised an arm in a wave to let her know he was alright. He shook his head at Togg, as his son prepared to walk along and support him. "I don't want her getting the idea that I'm hurt, son." He reminded the young man.

Together, the two Talvens, both defeated by Abrazimir, walked off of the arena. Once in the privacy of the Talven's station, Togg told a servant to get a healer to come and take a look at his father. Meanwhile, he got to work helping him out of his armor so the healer could actually see if he was injured.

---

@Arnyn

(The night before - Brenior with Macardil)

He smiled slightly at Macardil’s words. “I didn’t see which of the two struck the first blow,” He informed him regretfully, unable to confirm his friend's speculation. “However,” Brenior couldn’t help his tiny smile growing a little bit, “it was undeniable that your friend, Trevadir, was the victor of the fight.” He hoped that would be good to hear, at least. “While, in a way, I think it might be good for other folks to hear about what young Talven was doing and saying.. I suspect that it would be best for your friend if the story does not spread.” He mentioned, thinking of how it might be better for Trevadir if it did not.

“I daresay that if young Talven is smart, he would rather simply let the matter die, in the hopes that no one would hear of his second defeat of the day.” He added with a little chuckle. He couldn’t help thinking of the blow to his pride that such a loss must be to the young man. Besides that, if the story did get around, it was inevitable that the reason for the fight would also spread, and Brenior had a feeling Toggornir would not like for his elders to know the sort of slanderous accusations he had been spreading around. “It must have been quite a surprise that he didn’t come out victorious.” He commented with slight amusement at the thought. Personally, Brenior was pleased that the other had won. Even if he shouldn’t technically ‘approve’ of the fight, publicly anyway.

Of course, since there was a chance that the tale could get around, there was a chance that it would push Toggornir to demand some sort of chance to redeem himself in that regard. Or, if he was too prideful to accept the defeat, he could very well demand a chance to fight Trevadir again, on the grounds that he was too drunk to fight properly, before. While Brenior didn’t know what the skill level of either young man was, Brenior knew that Toggornir and his stepbrothers had begun training for battle at a very young age. He recalled watching the elder of the Taurhebor boys participating in a joust once before, many years ago, and he had done quite well in it. If Toggornir had had the same training.. as he surely must have.. then he might be a much better fighter when sober. It would be a shame for Trevadir to be beaten in combat if he were challenged a second time, especially since Macardil said he didn't know the rules of dueling.

As Macardil mentioned that he had two friends he could count on here, Brenior was even gladder to hear that he was counted as one of them. He smiled faintly and nodded, looking out at the starlight reflecting on the distant dark waves. “I am glad to have my friend back,” He added. It had been a long time, and he had missed Macardil. “And, I am glad that I came to talk to you tonight." He added. "I thought of putting it off until the morning, which.. may have led to putting it off again, and again..." He admitted. It was all too easy to do, putting off a difficult conversation for 'just the right time', until all the opportunities had passed by, and it was too late. "Seeing how your other friend defended you, earlier.. well, that was what made me decide that this should not wait a moment longer." He shared, thinking it might be good to for Macardil to know how his other friend had 'inspired' Brenior tonight.

After a moment of gazing out at the dark waves, he let out a little sigh. “Well, I suppose I ought to get back to our tent before it gets much later.” He commented after a brief silence. Besides, he figured Macardil would need to get his rest, since he would be competing in the morning.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Second day of the Joust

"Perhaps a different kind of helm would have helped." Ziran laughed under her breath at Pele’s comment after she sat down and greeted them. She looked over at her captain briefly, noting the damp hair from either bathing or swimming. Either way, she hoped Pele had found it enjoyable. “Aye it might, but he has always seemed to be one for traditions. Better use of the shield and his own lance are needed to get results.” She was still thankful that Macardil wore more face protection and had promised to take more care in using it today.

Her eyes squinted again in a slight wince at the results of the second clash, and she took a sip of water. Gaze roaming the stands briefly and trying not to keep sliding back to the pavilion in the moments between, she found it interesting who was paying attention and how many were there seemingly just to be seen or to pose with no attention on the sands. Her attention was drawn back to the movement of the horses again as each man readied his lance before the trumpet call, and a faint line appeared between her brows as they clashed once more with mixed results.

She couldn’t help but hear the murmurs from close below them regarding the appearance of one delinquent squire that had purportedly been in a bit of a tussle for uncertain reasons the night before. Ziran looked to where the young man who had joined them yesterday now stood by Talven’s station. He looked familiarly like Abrazimir’s opponent yesterday who had joined them in the stands. There seemed to be some discussion going on there before yet another riding. Abrazimir looked steadier that time going into it, and Ziran tilted her chin in approval before another slight wince at the violent buffets they gave one another. Yet another? Five tilts seemed quite a few, and she hoped that Macardil’s bouts would not be as long in duration. It was challenging enough watching, and must be worse for the competitors. She had to remind herself not to hold her breath as they started back down the list at one another with such grim determination.

Talven went flying, and Abrazimir managed to stay horsed, winning the match. Ziran blew out a breath and clapped along with those cheering the results, but her gaze had already shifted back to where Macardil was moving towards his pavilion, seemingly still in discussion with Trevadir. It nudged at her memory that he had said he didn’t want distractions as he prepared, but she pushed aside the thought. Probably had been meant as a way to make her relegation to the stands as one of the proper ladies more palatable, and she didn’t want to focus on such with him about to face the knight from Pelargir.

[Lantaelen]

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
Competing in the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

It seemed both Abrazimir and Uirchanar were incorrect in what they anticipated Lord Talven would do. Not that either of them would complain about the outcome. Lord Talven’s lance struck Abrazimir’s shield and glanced off, but a large splinter struck Abrazimir beneath his chin with the force of an uppercut, reeling him back in the saddle, to the point where he lost grip of his reins. He wobbled dangerous, swinging back and forth as his horse galloped to the far side, his vision swarming.

But his hit wasn’t as bad as the one Lord Talven took. Abrazimir heard the tremendous roar of the crowd before he knew what it was for. After staggering back and forth, threatening to fall, Abrazimir managed to catch his reins with one hand, then the other, stabilizing himself before he halted Sirdal and turned…and saw his opponent in the sands. Abrazimir…had won? He had to blink a few times to register what he was seeing. He ached so much. His head, his jaw, his arm, blood in his mouth, blood dripping down his nose, and who knew what else. But he had won.

He had won. Abrazimir seemed to remember what to do, if mostly by muscle memory. He rode to the center of the arena, in the midst of the cheering throngs on all side. He found sight of his parents above, along with all the other lords and ladies of noble rank, and raising his hand to his forehead, he swept it down in unison with his bowing head, in a theatrical show of deference and respect for the elders. Then, he wheeled his horse, riding along the edge of the crowd, letting them see their winner for this round as he returned to his starting position.

On his way however he paused to check on his opponent, hoping there was no fatal or grievous injury. Like with Toggornir, who was to…become a family of his extended family, Abrazimir would have hated to do some serious hurt to his sister’s future family. But as Lord Talven soon rose and seemed to walk off in the care and company of his son, Abrazimir was assured there was nothing too bad going on. At least on the outside.

Beyond his next opponent though he spotted a familiar couple, their young child, and some attendants. Abrazimir slowed his horse near them, lifting an arm to wave. ”Anardil.” He called out, using the man’s real name, instead of his more commonly used name Warder. The man was always in Isys’ shadow, almost like family. And since the Azrubel’s were kin to the Dimaethor’s, this man may as well be apart of the same clan as them all. He smiled at the woman next to him. ”Lady Estennin. Good to see you. I’ll speak with you both in a short while.” He concluded with another wave and moved on. He didn’t think twice about her…new facial features. He gave a polite smile Lotte and Airelen and moved on to the rear.

Abrazimir returned to Uirchanar, who helped him dismount. Setting foot upon the sands, he nearly staggered, but steadied himself. ”Are you alright, my lord?” Uirchanar asked him with a concerned look.

”I think I’m dying.” Abrazimir said morbidly, perhaps a little overstating his condition. ”Help me out of this armour.” He needed to sit down and maybe get some wind in his face. Maybe after a good night’s rest, he would be recuperated and ready for the final showdown. Against who, though?

---

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

There was little time to answer Dulinneth’s report about her mother’s health, who was like an aunty to Azraindil, as the match between her brother and her friend’s father came to it’s explosive conclusion. ”Oh!” Azraindil gasped when the two riders met, struck, and then Lord Talven was knocked into the sands, while Abrazimir…barely held on. He looked rather drunk himself, recalling Dulinneth’s remarks about her own brother, swaggering and unbalanced. But Abrazimir recovered, gaining control of his horse, and riding before the girls and boys nearby to give a bow of acknowledge to the cheering crowd.

”Abrazi!” Azraindil called out in praise! But her brother hardly even looked at her, or her friends, before he rode off. Azraindil’s smile turned into a pout. Not even a wave? Your brother’s the winner, then. ”Yes. He is. Again.” And survived, though not without cost. ”Your father seems okay, too. I suppose it was a good match.” She remarked to her friend, pressing her shoulder into Dulinneth’s.

The Herald returned, to declare Abrazimir the victor of this round and to state the next round of competitors. But, unlike yesterday, the recess between matches would be a little longer. One hour. Since there was only one joust left on today’s line up, the Dimaethor’s thought it better to extend the pause between the two rounds, so as to stretch out the excitement and festivity of the competition. Besides, there were plenty of food and drink vendors looking to make sales and now was their time.

”Are we famished yet?” Azraindil asked her companions, Dulinneth, Dinalogassel, and Meressel, wondering if they wanted something to drink or snack upon. Just doing her part for her family. ”Who do you think is going to win next, Lord Himhathol or Sir Rûthon?” She asked, though she knew very little of the two to make an educated guess, if she could ever be called educated about such matters.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion

Lady Silivren Himhathol
Joust: Day 2 - Intermission between the two matches

The picture of composure, Silivren watched the match with the expected interest and responses. Years of practice had almost dulled the experience -- at least when no one close to her was involved in the match at hand. She did not enjoy it when the competitors bore any injury, of course, and would much prefer it if the Men of Belfalas had chosen a different main sport for events like these. It was not to be helped, however. Boys will be boys - it was said. Silivren had learned long ago that, even when grown, Men would be Men. She showed the appropriate enthusiasm for Abrazimir's victory, but no more. Poor man. Would he be alright for his final match, tomorrow?

"Marion," she spoke quietly, signalling the younger woman standing off to the side of the stands with the way she shaped the name and gestured toward her. Marion did not need any more than this, as she was keeping a close eye on both Karis and Silivren for just such a signal. She approached quickly, while Silivren turned to Karis and Captain Alarian. "I think I would like to stretch my legs before it falls to Macardil and his opponent to ride across the sands," she told them, making a statement and a suggestion all at once. "An hour is a long time, after all. Might you ladies join me?"

Silivren smiled at Marion when she arrived. "We are considering a walk, dear." That was enough for Marion to know that she was not expected to make a run for refreshments or a small bite to eat. The ladies would pass by the vendors themselves, and would call for her when necessary. She nodded her head low and made room for the ladies to vacate their seats and pass her by. She would follow them. Silivren was the first to rise, and she elegantly made her way down the raised stands, heading for the vendors.

---

The day before, late evening
Macardil

He hummed thoughtfully when Brenior made a good point. If the story spread among the guests, Toggornir Talven may demand a rematch. Others might even do the same, even if the younger Talven did not take the initiative, Macardil knew. A way to settle who had been in the wrong at the tavern - if eye witnesses did not dare to cast the blame of the first blow on the young lord. Or… on the off chance that it had been Trevadir who’d started the fight. The demand for a rematch, however, might just be the preferable option to Trevadir being escorted off the premises for assaulting a nobleman. Macardil would know how to handle the former. The latter could prove much more difficult.

“After his defeat at the tilt, another defeat at the tavern,” Macardil mused out loud. “A rough day for the young man. If he is wise, he will hope to turn it around on the morrow. And make smarter decisions.”

An easy smile made its way to face as he, too, kept staring out at the water. They need not share a look between them. “So am I,” he declared. “And yes. You mustn’t leave Aurien to worry. There will be plenty of time for us to speak, later. I will see you tomorrow, Brenior.” Finally, Macardil turned to the man, holding out his arm.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Second day of the Joust

The herald’s announcement that they would have an hour intermission before the next contest in the joust commenced caught Ziran by surprise. Yesterday it had been at most twenty minutes between combatants and she hadn’t found the sitting fatiguing. She couldn’t quite imagine sitting idle for another hour while they waited, no matter how interesting it could occasionally be to watch the crowd.

Silivren’s suggestion of a walk was welcome, and Ziran smiled at her, acquiescing with a nod. “Gladly.” A walk would serve as a good distraction and help dispel some of the mild nerves from the anticipation of Macardil’s turn in the list. She rose from her seat after Silivren and moved to follow her. “Will you join us Pele or stay here? Perhaps something will catch your fancy among the wares or food items.” She didn’t think she could eat anything until afterwards herself, but it was always interesting to see what various craftsmen had brought to sell, as well as the local specialties.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Joust - Day 2

The match was hard fought, very long as the two jousters kept riding at each other, and it seemed that they had no mercy for each other, ramming the lances into each other's shields. Pele watched, rooted for Abrazimir reasonably quietly, and yet frowned in thought - was all the pain that was surely involved really worth it? All for just a few moments of glory. Then again she could not really claim to understand all the intricacies life here contained.

"Yes!" the approval of Abrazimir's victory broke out loudly, and Pele joined in clapping. "Tough stuff, though," she added much more quietly after a while.

It turned out that there would be a lengthy break before the next match, and Pele was glad for an offer to join Silivren and Ziran. "I'll happily join you," she confirmed, unwilling to spend a whole hour just sitting around here.

"It might be worthwhile to see what is on offer," she said, leaving her seat in her turn and joining the ladies. She did not mean to return back home bringing a cartload of exquisite items she had thought interesting enough to acquire; however, perhaps a few things here and there...

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth, Meressel, & Dina
Day 2 - in the box with Azrain

"Are we famished yet?”

As Gaer put the inquiry to her friends, Meressel nodded. "Certainly! We didn't have any breakfast," She explained. "Or, well.. I didn't." She added with a glance to Dina.

"We did," Dina admitted to having had something without Meressel, due to her, Caeleb, and Iuldir coming ahead with her uncle, "but it was small. We'd better make sure Caeleb has something else to eat, else Aunt Aurien will come down here to fuss about him and scold us for not getting him something," Dina mentioned to her cousin, as it seemed the best way to convince her not to say 'forget him, who cares?' As it was, Meressel rolled her eyes but didn't protest.

"Shall we go and see what is to be found?" Dina asked, curious about what sort of treats and other wares might be available to buy. Perhaps they might find some trinket or souvenir to buy.

Dulinneth smiled slightly, meanwhile, silently thankful that neither of the contestants had been seriously hurt. Or so it seemed. She almost mentioned the idea of going down to see if her father was alright, but she already knew that she'd be sent away and not allowed into the area. So, she didn't bother. As for the next match.. "I don't know," She answered Gaer's question. "I hardly even know who either of them are, so I'm not sure who I would rather win."

"I hope it will be Lord Himhathol," Dina mentioned, as Meressel nodded her agreement.

"Indeed, he's a long-time friend of our family," She added. "Not to mention very handsome." She giggled.

"But, I couldn't say for sure who I think will win." Dina continued with a little eyeroll. "I don't know a lot about jousting, nor do I know much about the other man. We didn't get to see him compete yesterday."

"Look, there he is," Dulinneth nudged Gaer's elbow, nodding toward the young man who had approached to speak to the boys nearby. "Are you going to ask him?" She asked, recalling that her friend had mentioned wanting to ask the birdboys to help with their secret archery plans.

---

@Ercassie

Trevadir with Tobedir, Iuldir, & Caeleb

He had taken no more than two steps toward the nearest food vendor when the herald announced that there would be an entire hour between the matches. Trevadir stopped in surprise. An hour? Wow, that was a long time. He considered for a moment, glancing toward the stands where his brother and friends were, and decided that if he was going to get something, he might as well see if Toby wanted anything too. He started heading that way, feeling a bit like a salmon swimming upstream, as most people were coming from the railing toward the food vendors, rather than toward the stands.

Reaching the box where his brother was, Trev stepped up near where Toby was sitting. "Hey, Toby, want me to get you some breakfast? Since we kinda.. skipped it?" He asked with a little grin, referring to how the brothers had overslept and ran to get here so not to miss the whole thing. He smiled politely and nodded a greeting to the other young guys sitting nearby, though he didn't know who the youngest boy was.

"Oh, yeah that'd be great," Toby agreed eagerly to his brother's offer of food. "Want me to come with you?" he offered, standing in preparation to go down and join his brother.

"You can, but you don't have to." Trev shrugged. He knew Toby didn't get to see his friends very often, so he wouldn't want to cut into their visiting time together.

"Hi Trevadir, remember me?" Iuldir smiled, from where he sat between Toby and Caeleb.

"Of course, Iuldir." Trev smiled at his brother's friend, who happened to also be his own friend's nephew. "Cali said she's started teaching you to run the forge, how do you like it?"

"Oh, it's great!" Iuldir grinned. "Tell her I've been practicing, too. And I haven't set anything on fire, either."

Trev laughed. "Good. Let's keep it that way. I'll tell her you said hello."

"Oh," Toby remembered their younger friend, and turned to him. "this is my older brother, Trevadir." He explained. "Trev, this is our new friend, Merry."

"Very nice to meet you, Merry." Trev replied with a smile, before glancing around at the four of them. "Would any of you like me to get anything from the food vender, since I'm going that way anyway?"

---

@Arnyn

(The night before - Brenior with Macardil)

He silently nodded, agreeing that it was hopeful that young Talven would make better decisions tomorrow. Though it did seem somewhat doubtful, one could still hope. And he didn’t know much about the family, personally.

Turning to Macardil, Brenior smiled as he took the offered hand in a handshake. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Macardil.” He agreed. “And I wish you good luck in your match. I will be cheering for you,” He added with a smile. Then, as the thought re-occurred to him of how worried Aurien would be at the thought of Caeleb sleeping in a tent, outside, he decided he had better hurry back. He couldn’t really blame her, since their boy had never slept outdoors like this before, and the night air might not be good for him.. Best to go check on the boy.

“Sleep well, Macardil.” He bid him good night, then waved as he set off again, feeling much lighter in spirit than before.

(the end)

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Azraindil had broken her fast earlier with some light fruit cuttings and plenty of lemon water, but she could always enjoy a snack with her friends. Affirmative roll call came in from each of her friends, curious at what food vendors might be available at this early hour. Maybe the pie vendor was open, with a half dozen selections available for a pretty coin. Azraindil had a small purse with her and she understood, as hostess for her friends, that she would pay if there was any costs. Her treat for her friends. She didn’t get to see them very often.

She did agree with Meressel, giggling with her friend. Lord Himhathol had quite an…intense look to him. ”There’ll be other contests and sports.” She assured Dinalogassel. But at Dulinneth’s gesture, Azraindil turned and indeed saw bird-boy – Trevadir and his brother Tobedir– nearby, approaching to speak with the various young children of certain nobles. She didn’t think once about the difference in rank. Like her friend, she saw her opportunity for obtaining future pursuits.

”My mother will approve of this.” Azraindil said with a glean of mischief in her eyes, to her friend. ”Shall we go play hostess for them? Like good ladies, we’ll serve the menfolk and maybe one thing will lead to another…” she trailed off, hoping Dulinneth understood her meaning. Isolate the boys from the adults, bribe them with food, and by then hopefully they’ll be malleable enough to help the girls learn something usually reserved for the boys; archery. Somewhere secretive and private too. Of course there would be risks in that, if certain stiff and prudish adults learned of it. The ones incapable of having fun.

So with a half-smirk, Azraindil got up and walked to come stand in front of the gathered boys, all of them. Caeleb, Iuldir, Tobedir, and her kinsman, Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Trevadir seemed to already be offering them food so that was perfect. he could help. She walked right up to Trevadir, but then turned elegantly on her heel to face the seated boys. Azraindil had her hands folded before her. Like a lady. How could they refuse her? ”Good morning, sirs.” She said courteously at first. ”If you gentlemen are hungry, I thought I could chaperone you or anyone off to the food vendors. My treat, as you are my guests.” She offered them, looking at each in turn.

But when it was mentioned that Trevadir was already on that, Azraindil turned back to him and smiled, clapping her hands together. ”Really, Trevadir, you are going that way already? That would be great. We can come with you and help. There would be a lot to carry anyways.” She said, referencing herself and Dulinneth, usually the pair out of the four girls who had the least bit qualms about getting their hands dirty for some excitement. ”And you can tell us how Ruinya and Lothuial are doing! Maybe we can see them again.” She glanced at Dulinneth, inviting her to make a comment on the raptors. That would be the moment hopefully where they can impress upon Trevadir what they wanted to do.

---

Beside the jousting arena was a series of pitched tents and pavilions, as arranged by the hosting Dimaethor clan. Here were various vendors, not only of drink or food, but of various other commodities or services. Trinkets for sale, smithing services for competitors or prospective candidates, wandering entertainers who played music, or painted, or did wood carvings. Story-tellers and merchants who visited far-off lands. Each stall or booth usually had a painted menu of some kind on a prominent and visible board, detailing what could be made or prepared. Behind each was the vendor’s small camp, where they and their servants and retainers did all the work.

Indeed some ovens and fires were sparked, where soon the amorous scent of many cooking scents and smells would fill the air. And of course, the barrels of ale and mead and other such drinks were flowing, with certain basic vintages entirely bought and paid for by the hosts at their own dime, allowing free alcohol to flow. And when has that ever been a problem? Within this makeshift town of stalls, booths, and tents was a small café of tables and chairs sit right in the midst of this section. Nobles of course received priority seating. But all could sit and enjoy their meal, if they preferred not to stand and wander and consume. In a hour’s time, trumpets would signal the return of the joust for the final round that day.

If one wandered off far enough, they might encounter the illegal gambling vendor…

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
In the Stand with the other young boys, come to watch the Joust - Day 2.

His friends were good enough to forego any questions, and their efforts to make him feel included were much appreciated. Though it sounded that his friends were more excited about the next match, than the current one, which Merry was surprised at, given that the latter had not quite even finished yet. But it was made clear also that most if not all of the other boys were more familiar than he was, with one of the later competitors, Lord Himhathol.

The nobleboy had heard his aunt make discreet enquires of “what do we know ?” about that gentleman to Elen on day one. But then the two ladies had been just sly enough to ‘propose’ a very timely and rousing set of musical refrain from their entourage, to ‘enliven the atmosphere’, and entirely drown out to any but their own ears what they spoke together thenafter. Left to amuse himself, Merry might have grown bored in their large airy pavilion, save that his brother sent him out with Ruberon to observe all of the knights and lords who he could recognise. He had come back with a long list of names and tales to share but by then Warder and Ilisys had embarked upon a cloistered conversation of their own. Probably about the joust, he had assumed, at the time. Though now he was less convinced. Or interested really.


“Sir Dimaethor is both my neighbour and my kinsman,” he agreed with Caeleb’s eventual support. Although he could not have said how exactly he was related to Abrazimir. One of his father’s great grandmothers had been the sister of a Lord Dimaethor, he forgot which one. Back as far ago as the Kinstrife, when his ancestor had earned title, land, and a noble bride all at once, for his contributions. “I have no doubt he will prevail. And should he ride against Lord Himhathol on the morn, they will write songs about it.” A small nod confirmed the young lord’s opinion, for he could not raise a single negative thought about either man.

“My brother says I am not ready to compete myself, but I should like to see the contest all the same,” Merry admitted, of the archery as the two knights turned and readied themselves to come at one another again. “Perhaps your cousin would remember better if her Uncle was of a different opinion ?” he wondered, a little more quietly. Though it seemed unfair to cast aspersions on a man he had never met. “My cousin says that there is always somebody to say a thing can not be done. Until somebody does it.” he added, shortly after in an effort to raise Caeleb’s spirits, as the boys had managed already to do for him.


Their exchange was silenced, breath and attention all stolen, by the final charge which set the mounted contenders in another thundering storm of excitement. And as Lord Talven was unhorsed, Merry sat back in his seat with a smile of satisfaction. His favourite had prevailed, even against such a titan !

The intermission did not mean an end to expectations, even for such time as it endured. For first they were greeted by a young man who Toby claimed for his brother. “It is very good to meet you in person, Trevadir” the young Lord smiled and rose in respect. “I have heard of you of course. I hope the birds are settled in,” he added, with a schooled tone followed by a slight but fluid turn toward yet further flurries of new people.


“My Lady,” he offered to the calm approach of Azraindil and to her friend, who he knew not save by the colours of her garb. House Talven ... Had she heard how proudly he had just been professing support for her father’s victor ? Was that why they had come over ?! No but it could not be so.

“My Lady,” he bowed then, in an effort to improve upon that maybe first impression, and returned to form to await the outcome of some uncertainty. Were the boys to be escorted by the ladies in search of refreshment ? Or had those same young ladies just passed them up in favour of an older and clearly favoured escort of their own ?

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

All the youths

Iuldir couldn't help a grin at Merry's comment, about what his cousin said. "I agree with that," He declared. "My aunt does, too. She's been teaching me to do smithing work," He added in explanation, for Merry could not know much about that. "Even though everyone told her that women couldn't do that sort of work." He shrugged. "She's one of the best smiths in Gondor, I'd say. One day, I'm going to go and be her apprentice properly."

Tobedir had very little to add to that topic, but he did speak up when Merry declared that 'they' would write songs about tomorrow's match. "Perhaps my brother will be one of them. He's great at that sort of thing!" He declared proudly.

After his brother had arrived with an offer of breakfast, Toby forgot all about suggesting that he write a song about the jousts. His stomach was rumbling quietly, reminding him that they had not had a chance to eat before rushing to get here.

As the young lordling greeted him, for Trev had quickly recognized 'Merry' as being the young lord Azrubel who would one day rule the estate across the river, Trev was somewhat surprised to learn that he had heard of him. What had he heard, he wondered? He was afraid to ask, so he merely smiled politely. "They are, thank you." he responded, before the approach of the young ladies drew his attention.


There were very few things which Linn's mother or father would approve of, when it came to Linn doing things that she wanted to do. So, when Gaer spoke with that gleam in her eyes, about how her mother would approve of whatever she had in mind, the girl was quite curious. What could she be plotting? She was quite intrigued, hoping to perhaps learn some of her older friend's tricks.

"Playing hostess?" Meressel wondered, as Dina smiled softly and gave a little nod, having a suspicion what Gaer may have in mind, though she wasn't sure, until Gaer explained further. Although, she had to stifle a little amusement. The way she had worded that.. if her uncle heard it, about 'one thing leading to another', he would surely have become worried that she meant something entirely different. Thankfully, he was not there to jump to wrong conclusions.

When Gaer moved to approach the young men sharing their box, Meressel and Dina hung back a bit, but Linn stepped up beside her friend to show her support of what she was saying, wearing a smile as she clasped her hands together. She had only met one of them before.. yesterday. The younger bird brother. Aware that her mother could very well be watching from above, she refrained from smiling at him and looking in any way as if she had met him before, but maintained a pleasant expression.

When the young lord Azrubel addressed them each with a very proper bow and 'my lady', Dulinneth smiled politely and did a small curtsy in reply to his bow. "Good morning, my lord." She answered, though she wasn't really sure quite what else to say, since she didn't really know him and had rarely spoken with any nobleboys who were not significantly older than her, like her brothers. And talking with her brothers was quite different from talking to a non-relative.


While the youngest members of the group were exchanging polite formal greetings instilled into them by their aristocratic parents, Trevadir had gone quiet for a moment when Lady Azraindil approached the group. And not just the group, but it seemed as if she were walking straight up to him specifically. Why? He pushed his hat down slightly, as if to shield his face better from the sun.. but also from recognition from those seated above. He watched her with curiosity mingled with a bit of wariness. What was she up to? Was she trying to get him in trouble with her father? When she turned to put her back to him, he was a bit confused but remained quiet. Listening, as he tried to make sense of what her game was.

"Thank you very kindly, my lady," Caeleb replied in surprise. He politely inclined his head to her, as he was unable to really do much else in the way of a bow, and glanced at his two closer companions, who (slightly belatedly) arose to their feet to bow in respect to the ladies with muttered 'm'ladies' from each of them. This occurred after observing Merry doing so, and after Iuldir nudging Tobedir lightly with his elbow so that they both copied the actions at the same time.

"We were just discussing that very thing, in fact," Caeleb continued to Lady Azraindil, as if he had wordlessly been elected as spokesperson for the trio. "Your offer is very kind, thank you very much." He smiled.

"Trev was actually just on his way to get us some breakfast," Tobedir spoke up, surprised by the coincidence of this. The timing couldn't have been better, right? And he was pleased, because now it seemed as if Trev would not have to use his small amount of money on them, if Lady Dimaethor was offering to buy instead.

When she had turned back to Trev as if delightfully surprised by this news, he couldn't help feeling a tiny bit wary as he nodded slowly. "Yes, I was offering," he confirmed. Somehow, he felt as if she was trying to pull some sort of manipulation here, and he wasn't sure what her game was, but he didn't really like being manipulated. Still.. he worried that he had perhaps been a little overgenerous in his offer toward Toby's friends, realizing suddenly that he wasn't sure how much any of the food would cost. What if he didn't have enough money to buy food for all of them? And, besides, he wasn't certain whether it would be rude to turn down such an offer.

"Well, if you are certain it would not be an imposition, my lady..." He glanced briefly at his brother before smiling faintly back at lady Azraindil. "We accept, with much gratitude." He concluded with a small incline of his head, though he kept his eyes on her. He had no intention of letting his guard down, in case she was up to something. The inquiry about the birds caught him slightly by surprise, nonetheless. Did her scheme have something to do with them, then?


"Oh, that's right," Dulinneth smiled as Gaer brought up the raptors. "Such lovely birds they are! Have you thought of a name for your.. kestler, yet?" She inquired, turning her attention to Toby.

"Kestrel," Toby politely corrected her, and shook his head. "Still thinking about it, but thank you for asking." He smiled. "If you would like to see the other birds again, then you must come to see the show that Grandfather is putting on later!" he declared happily. "And that invitation is for all of you, by the way," he added, with a smile toward the others, such as Merry.

"Well..." Trev cleared his throat lightly. "we'd best get started then, before the lines are much longer." Trevadir mentioned, unsure if the entire group should go, or only a few so as not to get separated as easily in the crowds. He looked at Lady Azraindil. "Perhaps, the lady will take the lead, seeing as we are unfamiliar with this land which you call home?" He suggested, using the most proper way of speaking that he could manage. It was probably wrong somehow, but he tried.

To be honest, he was a little unsure about the protocols concerning such a situation, and felt like they might be venturing into some sort of grey area, so he decided it might be best if she led the way. Macardil's warning about stuff like this was still present in the forefront of his mind, but he was curious to find out what her ulterior motive might be.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion

Lady Silivren Himhathol
Joust: Day 2 - Intermission between the two matches

Silivren sent Marion after some freshly baked pastries for all of them: Captain Alarion, Lady Ziranphel and Silivren, but also for Marion. The ladies could enjoy them as they walked past the vendors. And if Lady Ziranphel did not wish to eat, Marion would keep it with her for such a time as when the lady did grow hungry.

Not wishing to consume alcohol before the sun was high in the sky, Silivren only partook in water when it came to drinks. They lingered by a duo of storytellers who were re-enacting a scene from a popular romantic story. Silivren tipped them generously for their performance, before addressing Captain Alarion.
"Are you enjoying the festivities, Captain?" She wondered politely. "I know from my own experience that this is a far cry from what you are used to in Minas Tirith."

[Ercassie]

@Lantaelen

Airelen, with her parents Lady Gaelanna of House Estennin and Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, of Lond Col.
Attended by Lotte and an armoured Guard. Stood amongst the Non-Noble audience. Joust/Intermission – Day 2

The final clash was no less impactful to the gasping audience than it likely would have been to the two men who endured it. There had seemed no gradual slackening throughout the entire set, of course, nor sign that either man were unwilling to continue, for all of the damage which was likely done to both pride and person, with each blow. Such tenacity they demonstrated ! Lotte outright pressed her palms together, as they glanced after the one knight, then the other in the opposite direction, to compare how each had each come out of it.

The uproarious reaction was all about then, deafening and delightful. There was no cause for those not stood at the rail to have to guess which way it had gone. For after all, a single mounted rider could be observed still at height. Which meant the other … had been brought to ground. Gael dipped her head in relief, while her husband side-glanced to their own armoured attendant. But the knight, Abrazimir, honoured them all as he called for their collective attention upon his return ride.


The ladies ducked into a curtsy, Warder inclined to a subtle bow, as much as could be achieved in the crowd, but must be attempted regardless, in response to a nobleman.

“My Lord,” Gael met the Knight’s kindness with polite acknowledgement. “You have our congratulations, of course. Upon your victory,” she smiled demurely behind her veil. She could see that he was hurt, but it was not the done thing to draw attention to that. Men did not like to be coddled, as far as she understood it. She had not forgotten her raising, despite all that had occurred since then.

“Indeed” her husband agreed, sincerely. “I would appreciate that opportunity for words, my lord. As you say. And when you might deem suitable, Sir.” There was respect about the Man’s grey eyes and appreciation for the other’s gesture. But Anardil’s words would have made clear his inner turmoil, for he was not a man to make with needless small talk. Neither though would he wish to conduct this specific, owed, conversation in front of an audience.

“I like your horse,” Airelen put in with a wide smile, not to be forgotten before the knight rode away.


“Well now. I had better go and present myself,” Lotte decided, for her own sake and a sudden rush of enthusiasm to relocate to the Stands. Warder rolled his eyes, knowingly. For despite the Lord Knight's promise, Abrazimir would be expected to return to his own first and foremost. The hour long intermission might even have been designed so that the young nobleman would have time to recover, and not miss playing spectator to the second match of the day. The female servant was blushing, and fanning herself with one hand.

“You ought have an escort,” The Squire glanced, with meaning, toward their quiet, armoured friend. Who seemed impervious to the remark or uncaring of the suggestion. “To keep you .. out of trouble ?” the man added, and gained still no reaction. “I will walk you over there, of course, Lotte,” he interpreted, reluctantly. And did not give glance to his wife, though clearly he wished to. The protocols were unkind but he held to them where there were eyes to see. He was not most keen to have to play the bearer of bad news but also wished that it might be delivered swiftly. It was not rightly all bad, of course. But neither could it be considered ‘good’.

“I’ll come,” the small girl began to clamber down her gleaming metal tree, aided where she did not look for help, by a timely placed hand and support.

“Stay with us, dear one,” Gael suggested instead. “You can see your uncle later,” she put in, convinced that she knew what might curb the child’s urgency.

“Alriiiiight ..” Airelen allowed, with an exaggerated sigh. Before she bolted for the railing. Before any could reach hands to her, the girl had thrown herself over the barrier, and swung her whole self back onto two feet on the near side of safety. “I would wager that you can not do that ..” she grinned.

“I imagine that you would be right,” Gael agreed, one hand come to her chest to still the panic of her heartbeat.

“Stay close,” her husband bade her, quietly as he came to stand close and slightly toward face her. A flick of grey eyes indicated the escort at hand. “I will be no longer than is necessary,” he promised. His wife nodded, the motion barely discernable beneath her gossamer trapping, but to he who had stood close enough. Close as he could manage, that is, without it being considered 'too' close.


“Look ! Look !” Airelen was now stood and balancing upon the railing itself, wobbling wildly as one hand anchored her safely to the gauntlet of the armoured guard. Gael smiled, despite herself.

“Come now, no,” she hoped, and knew it was in vain. “We must be careful !” She had known enough concern already recently and for all her fretting was glad that the small girl did not seem remotely affected by what she'd seen. Indeed, planting her tongue inside one cheek, the lady’s daughter shrugged and leapt down to the grass, giggling as all who sought to catch her failed. Somehow she was unharmed nonetheless. An uncanny ability which had not worked to curb her love of 'antics' so far.

“Come now, you,” Lotte reminded Anardil. “The sooner it is done … ” she mentioned softly, that the sentiment might lead him toward hope. But the man did not look convinced. “Your mother will be glad that you are here,” the servant told him. And of that he might be more convinced. But just as sure that the Lady Eressild would not be.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

There was a polite exchange of formal greetings and acknowledgements, as was proper, though Azraindil would have been content to be more direct and casual. But with the parents so near, and the risk of them watching, and wagging their tongues over perceived rudeness, it was wise to act the part. For a little while longer. They could not fault her for this, she was trying to play and act the gracious hostess for folks her age. That’s why they put her among them, right? Azraindil would make sure there was no fault to be found in hers or any of her lady friends actions. Outwardly at least.

Why should everyone but them have all the fun? Her brother walked away spitting up blood and worse, yet he would be praised for her. If Azraindil even looked at a weapon, she would be severely lectured on it’s dangers like she was some impetuous child who didn’t know better. She did know better. Or, well, she was determined to know more than what she was permitted to know in any case, if not better.

While they might look like the children of nobility and fortune, Trevadir certainly did not match the presentation. But that didn’t bother Azraindil. She was almost envious of that status. He was untethered to societal demands and expectations. Caeleb expressed they were already of the same mind of fetching refreshments and she smiled at him. ”Great minds think alike!” She praised his thinking. Tobedir mentioned Trevadir had volunteered and Azraindil turned towards him, expressing her glee and gratitude. He was offering and she was offering – perfect opportunity! Trevadir agreed and for a moment they talked of the raptors. No name for the Kestrel yet. Would it then be an imposition if they offered up suggestions? As exciting as that was, Azraindil knew it might not be entirely welcomed. They were merely fans of the raptors, not their owners or experts in their keeping.

Perhaps, the lady will take the lead, seeing as we are unfamiliar with this land which you call home?

”Perhaps the Master Birdkeeper would be so kind as to escort us fair ladies, and I will tell him the way there.” Azraindil replied with a grin and extended her hand for Trevadir to take, to act as her chaperone. And the rest of the girls might also find themselves a pair. Azraindil glanced back at Dulinneth, hoping she might be offered by Tobedir or another brave fellow to walk with her to the food stalls, as well as the other boys and girls if they paired up.

All Trevadir had to do was take the lady’s hand, put it around his bicep, and walk beside her. Had he ever done that before? When he did, Azraindil turned back to her kinsman, Lord Emeredir. Was he going to come with them too? ”May I get you anything in especial, Lord Cousin?”Azraindil asked of Emeredir, while standing next to Trevadir. After his response, those that were going for food, could go.

Soon they were walking with the crowds of others heading to the pavilions and tents and stalls, where the smell of food was wafting from. Azraindil dared not look back at the stands, fearing her father’s fierce and mercilessly gaze. And the thousand questions of who Trevadir might be and why he was holding his daughter’s hand. But he was the grandson of a man who lived here in Lond Côl, no? He was entirely suitable as an escort. But as nothing else, a certain father might say. It was only a couple minutes walk though.

”We are very excited for your grandfather’s performance later on. How many shows do you think he, and you, will put on? We would attend every one if possible!” Azraindil beamed her most charming smile at Trevadir. She had never…done something like this before. How much charm was enough charm? Was there such a thing as too much charm? She watched the young man’s face intently. He seemed nervous about being in the presence of noblewomen. Some common born boys could be like that. It was rather…adorable, in a way. Azraindil despite her surname and lineage was still a young person herself, more prone to mirth and cheer than serious decorum and pomp.

”But…one concern I had…well, I understand the animal kingdom well enough. There is always a bigger fish, I’ve heard sailors proverbially say. Which is to say, there are always greater predators. And…there are hawks and falcons and eagles in this world. Do they ever threaten your beauties?” She inquired, referring to his birds. ”Do you ever have to…fight them off? With your hands or knives or…” she looked at him intently, ”bows?” She inquired with a slight grin. ”Hands and knives, what am I saying? Of course you have to use bows, unless you can sprout wings yourself.” Then he would be a real Bird-Boy, but that was doubtful. Bows would probably be the main method for defending raptors from greater species. Now correct me and tell me all about your archery…

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
After the second joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

After seeing the Anardil and his wife, Abrazimir returned to the rear preparation tents for the various competitors and was helped out of his armour and kit by Uirchanar. He changed into a fresh tunic and trousers, along with a surcoat in the usual colours of Dol Amroth, and kept his sword as well. As for the blood, dripping from nose and busted lip, it took not one but two entire cloths to staunch the bleeding. His head throbbed and the edges of his vision seemed to blur if his eyes stayed open too long. Not uncommon. He’d been hit on the head before in combat. He could power through. Besides, a nice long drink of wine in celebration helped to dull the worst effects.

Carrying a fresh napkin in his hand, his nose cleansed and his lip busted but at least nor longer bleeding, Abrazimir deigned to return himself to proper society. Look at the heir of Dimaethor all beat up. In his own home. He wore it proudly. And if anyone remarked on it as he passed by, he praised his opponents humbly instead. A thousand orcs couldn’t do to him in a day but his brave colleagues could in a quarter-hour. The Talvens were to be his future kin after all. He ought to put a little respect on their name, despite eliminating both of them. He wondered if his father would find that humorous or ill-done?

He saw his sister leave the premise, leading away a procession of young girls and boys. And one at her side. Who was that? He didn’t stay or linger to find out. If he had…there might have been tremendous trouble to be had. A certain youth from the docks at Pelargir. No, Abrazimir had other obligations and moved to the box and stands where the nobles were. Anardil, his wife, and young child, were waiting to see and greet some of the noblemen and women. He approached from behind and clapped his hand to Anardil’s shoulder to introduce his presence again.

”Waiting to kiss the ring?” He asked jokingly at first. He looked over to Airelen, who seemed full of energy. ”You know my sister could help watch her, if you like. Azraindil already has a small gang of youths accompanying her. A couple more like Airelen here, they’ll take over the sands quickly.” Abrazimir offered up in jest. He moved ahead and gestured for them to follow. He would bring them to the parents rather quickly. And then once that…business was conducted, they would be free to follow their own pursuits and enjoyment. Anardil and Gael, despite being from across the water, along with Isys, were close in age to Abrazimir and thus his contemporaries. And what he considered his closest friends, almost akin to family.

”Speaking of which, I was looking forward to you and your knight participating. Everything alright, there?” He asked Anardil more quietly.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

All the youths

Hearing Lady Azraindil speak in reference to him, calling him 'Master Birdkeeper', Trevadir was a little unsure what to say for a moment. He gave a polite smile, but.. he couldn't resist mentioning in a polite.. carefully non-sarcastic tone, "I'm sorry, but my grandfather decided to stay at the bird tent today. But.. umm, perhaps you would settle for.. an apprentice bird keeper?" He cleared his throat lightly. "If you can even call me that," he added a little awkwardly. For he wasn't really an apprentice anything, he supposed, and hadn't been involved with his grandfather's birds in about six years. He was surprised his grandfather was even allowing him to assist him with this event.

Seeing that she had put out her hand expectantly, as if waiting for him to offer his arm, Trev hesitated and tried to think of what he should do. Somehow, he felt like this was not really a good idea, but he wasn't sure how to get out of it without possibly offending the lady. Tentatively, he held out his arm so that she could take it, but was careful to keep his arm out far enough from his body that she would not be clinging to him too closely, just in case. He was really hoping that his hat kept him from being recognized by any eyes from above... such as her father. He glanced toward Toby, thinking it would be really good if he was not the only one with a young lady hanging on his arm, so it wouldn't look quite as bad if anyone noticed. He made a little nodding motion toward the girls, hoping his brother would pick up on the hint.

At first, Toby blinked in puzzlement at Trev, but after a second or two, he realized that he was trying to hint that Toby should do the same arm thing. But why? Toby was puzzled by this. These two girls had followed them all the way out to the hunting grounds that first day, all by themselves. That proved they could walk just fine without aid. But Trev had given him a look that he wasn't quite sure what meant, yet he suspected he was really wanting Toby to do the same thing. He refrained from rolling his eyes, and turned to Dulinneth, who had been asking him about his bird. "Would you like to come along too?" He asked, putting out his arm as if he was going to let a bird land on it. That looked like what Trev had done, anyway.

Smiling, Dulinneth did a small curtsy. "Thank you, yes I would." She declared as she accepted his offered arm. She smiled at him, then glanced to see whether Meressel and Dina planned to come along as well.

Meanwhile, Toby glanced toward his own friends, a bit unsure how all this would work out. After a bit of debate about the matter, soon, it was arranged suitably to satisfy everyone; Iuldir would act as Dina's 'escort', while Merry and Meressel walked together, and Merry's attendant, Ruberon, volunteered to push Caeleb's chair. After Iuldir had quickly shown the man how to set and unset the brake on his chair, they were all set to go*.


As the group of young folks set off, Trevadir was feeling quite self-conscious about the whole thing, but at least it was some relief to know that each of the other young ladies were being 'escorted' by the other young men. Still, he felt like he was the most likely to get into some serious trouble if there arose any problems from it, so he was trying to be very careful.

Her question about the bird show seemed simple and harmless enough. "I believe the plan is to hold a show each evening," He answered. "And of course, you are welcome to come to any and all of those that you would like." He followed up by mentioning what time of the evening the shows were scheduled to begin. "After, he does plan on giving time for anyone interested to come and pet the birds. I can't guarantee whether he would allow anyone to hold them, but it isn't an impossibility," he added, recalling that she had been very caught up with the birds, the other day.

He had begun thinking that perhaps her whole mission in doing this was simply to ask about the birds, but then her words veered more toward something else. He glanced toward her, mildly alarmed, as she suddenly mentioned something about sailors. What...? Could she have heard something about him? He hadn't made any indication of having ever been involved with sailing, not around her, nor anyone else here, except for Toby. How could she know? He fought down the panic threatening to rise up inside him, and forced himself to listen to the rest of what she had said. Calm down, he told himself. She wasn't actually making any hints about having found out anything about his sailing past. Instead, he realized with some confusion, she was asking about.. if he used bows?

He paused and looked at her, trying to make sense of what she had just asked him. "Umm," he cleared his throat, picking his words carefully so not to sound as if he were being rude or as if he thought it was a dumb question. "No, my lady," He answered politely. "Hawks, falcons, eagles.. owls.. they are all raptors." He explained, then resumed walking as he continued to explain, "We rarely have any trouble with wild raptors attacking our tamed ones, but if they did.. there wouldn't be much to do about it." He couldn't actually think of any incidents he had ever heard of, where that had ever happened.

"Grandfather is careful to keep the larger birds well separated from the smaller ones.. like Toby's kestrel, and not have them out at the same time. Ruinya and Lothuial, for instance, would consider her a nice snack. But they get along well enough with each other." He glanced around briefly, before returning his attention on her. "If a bigger bird did swoop out of the sky and attack the kestrel, or say, some other, wild bird attacked Ruinya or Lothuial while they were in the air, the birds would be fighting together, up in the air. How could we shoot one without maybe accidentally shooting the other?" he shrugged the shoulder furthest from the lady. "So, no, we don't really use bows. But that's never happened that I know of." He assured her. "Anyway, Grandfather would rather capture and train such a bird, rather than kill it." He added.

Behind him, he could hear Toby and Dulinneth talking together about their different pets, and inwardly smiled to hear his brother describing the huge tortoise that had been the brothers' pet for so long, while she told him about a fawn and some other animals she had at her home.



(*All mention of Merry/Ruberon was cleared with Ercassie beforehand)

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Karis Ziranphel


Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Joust - Day 2

Pele was glad to move about a bit and dissipate the stress that had somehow built up in her shoulders while watching that intense match of jousting; she had perhaps rooted for Abrazimir more than she had shown outwardly, unwilling for him to suffer badly from all those mighty hits landed by his opponent. She had to admit that she was clearly biased, but perhaps it was permissible in a competition like this. After all she would be rooting for Macardil as well and not for his opponent, though it would prove more difficult if Macardil and Abrazimir ended up pitted against each other in the final joust.

Pele nibbled on one of the pastries Marion had brought and sipped of the juice, while she observed with interest wares provided by vendors. She had lingered slightly by one selling daggers with richly decorated hilts, yet she did not stay long enough to decide on anything and had quickly caught up with the other ladies to watch the performance put up by the artists.

"Yes, this is rather different," Pele emerged from the story of the performance that had intrigued her with its developments to respond to Silivren's question. "But very enjoyable. There is a little bit of pressure though; I cannot be fully at ease and have to think of how I present myself in public. Not that I do not think of it back at home... in a different way." She was not sure her explanations made much sense, and she looked at Silivren and Karis with a little spark of amusement in her eyes realising that she might sound more like someone who had escaped from work in a farmstead rather than a proper lady.

[Ercassie]

@Lantaelen

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, with Lotte and Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Approaching the Noble Stands, from the general crowd. Joust – Day 2 – Intermission

Duty drove them on and yet the sudden mass migrations proved that nobody would get where they were headed any time fast. So Warder and Lotte did not make their way completely to the Stands, before a hand abruptly placed about the man’s shoulder from behind. The gesture saw him whir in an about turn of alarm, rather more than might have been expected, before recognising the young Lord Dimaethor, likely on his own way to the same place. Then at least, Warder relaxed; relaxing his hand from where it had fallen on instinct to his hip.

“As far as we must, Sir,” the squire then replied, with a polite smile but no further indication of good humour. His grey eyes watched the nobleman spy out the family who he’d left safe, back at the railing. His lively daughter was not easy to miss, and almost as though she could feel their eyes upon her, Airelen glanced over, and waved, eagerly. The knight’s suggestion then was generous indeed, despite it committing his sister, rather than himself to play custodian to the small girl. They all knew the roles expected, of course, and it was clearly not a hollow invitation. “Indeed the exuberance of youth is evident, and a glad thing to behold,” he agreed. Though he held off accepting the offer, for reasons he would have to soon explain. “Were that we were all still as blissfully oblivious, now as then,” he added, as though to lead to that thought.


Abrazimir seemed to be in good spirits, which made raising this subject somewhat awkward. But of course why should the nobleman not be, given that he had just won his bout, bloodied regardless. The climes were fair, the people jubilant, what cause could the knight know to fret ? The answer was a subject which Warder knew had potential to stir the nobleman intently. Abrazimir was known as the bane of corsairs, in this neck of the coast. But the fierce tenacity and focus which had earned him such a title ought not to be overlooked. Lotte ambled along in the mens’ wake, her skirt’s hem held up ever so slightly in one hand; more for care of the very best dress she owned, rather than care for decency. At her age. Still, she keenly glanced after the young lord with a maternal admiration in her old eyes. Warder slowed his stride then, purposely to allow his fellow ‘aide’ to catch up, perhaps indicating a private want for the woman’s silent support. Perhaps only to subtly stall the Lord before they came too close to the Stands, and a good many more ears that were seated there. But already Abrazimir was ready with a lower tone to exchange information. This was the opening Warder had been waiting for. Well, not waiting for exactly but it was the best that he was likely to get.


“Our armoured friend is well,” the Squire conceded, with a slight nod back to the anonymous attendant who had stayed with Gael and Airelen. “And rather trusting that you will comprehend when one sort of a duty usurps another.” Warder swallowed then and took a deep breath, hoping that the knight would recognise the Lady Isys, fine and unharmed, although quite unidentified.

“We did not wish to panic your guests by making the issue known, yesterday, nor put the matter to your Lord father, without your hearing first. That, we had an unexpected guest across the river yesterday, and at the most inopportune hour no less.” Warder did not give up the name of the troublemaker, but his evident disapproval all but did so for him. He glanced back to where Lotte was politely nodding to passersby, inviting them to not linger and listen in. Though for any not privy to what their small group was, anybody hearing might imagine that the squire was put out they had not been ready with the correct number of chairs for a dinner party, or something of that ilk.


“The Lady Gaelanna in particular was taken rather by surprise, at the re-emergence of this errant acquaintance,” the squire shared with the nobleman, and perhaps cluing him in to why the reclusive lady and her daughter had ventured from the ‘safety’ of their home this day. “The ‘matter’ is even now being attended to. And I do apologise for bothering you with this, sir, but given the circumstances …we felt that it might let you rest easy. Particularly before your deciding match, my lord.”

Warder clasped both hands behind his back and made to recommence their walk toward the stands, unless Abrazimir had any protest. “I know this particular ‘inconvenience’ has been at the back of all our minds.” the squire spoke, as freely as he felt able, and if he held to form and withheld further details, it was rather more because he did not wish for the situation to cause any sort of uproar in a public setting. Rather than he not trusting the man with any information that could be shared. They two had trusted one another with their very lives before now. Which was even further cause why the knight, of all people, ought not be kept in the dark. "It would not be the first time that his ilk have visited a negative impact on a Lond Col event, after all."

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
with the group of young folks. Intermission of the Joust - Day 2.

Merry had quietly offered his thanks, like his new peers, to the benevolent offer of their hostess, as keenly as he had given up a smile and a nod toward Trevadir’s own invitation. He would very much like to see the bird display which Master Dravedir had organised later. And, he couldn’t help but observe that the young ladies seemed already familiar with the Thormaetha brothers. As well as their family's winged legacy.

“It would please me greatly to accompany your excursion, cousin,” he replied to Azraindil then, adopting the same appellation for her as she had first, toward him. This would be the first time that he faced the opportunity to escort a lady he was not related to, as he realised quite how many of them would all be going and mentally did the arithmetic in his head. Merry though had scarcely need to catch his man’s eye before Ruberon presented close at hand, clearly already having taken heed when the children had spoke of moving away from their seats.


As Meressel and Dina followed Dulinneth’s example, the manservant then diligently stooped, with hands upon his knees, so that his young Lord could lay words into his ear with due convenience. And so it was suggested that Ruberon lend his aid, so that they could all go without exception. As the kindly servant and the specifics of Caeleb's chair were introduced to one another, Merry cleared his throat and dared to concede to his own duty.

“Would you allow me the great privilege of standing your escort, my Lady ... ?” he enquired, in lieu of offering his arm which, given their vast age difference (to her as the elder, and far taller Meressel) would have appeared rather ridiculous. And a Lord must never assist a lady in appearing ridiculous. He was not even certain that he could recall the lady’s given name, though he had marked her early on as Caeleb’s kinswoman, which stood her of House Eglathor. “You are not missing the city too sorely, I hope,” he made with his best effort to amuse the rather daunting adolescent, as the party moved off. “I recently returned from vacationing in our town house there, for the summer. We do so rarely enjoy such events as this, in the estates. Hopefully such entertainments will become more commonplace here also in the days to come.”


From his unobserved position at the rear of their little procession, Ruberon masked a paternal smile to note his young charge, all of the young folks in fact, performing their roles as little lords and ladies in training. He was aware that Merry’s mother and aunt had schooled the boy at some great length for this grand event and, despite his age, the little nobleman was parroting the phrasings they had taught him as though it seemed he understood the meaning. Though the older man could not help wondering at what point the graces of etiquette would soften in the face of youthful exuberance. He had, of course, seen the like of these developments play out before now, when Emeredir's much elder brother had been of a similar age-group. So there had been no question of his discouraging Merry from partaking in the proposed 'jaunt'. For one thing, socialising with other children was an area the lad was clearly lacking, as far as his education stood. And besides that, Rube had known Dravedir a long while. He felt equally as protective over the fate of the falconer's grandsons, though he barely knew them.

“Do tell me if you wish to go any faster, or slower, my lord,” he braved the courtesy toward Caeleb, rather boldly and once they had left the immediacy of the Stands. Well, it was no more really than an expression of service. The man's concern that the lad might feel left out - having no lady to escort - usurped the servant’s practice in retaining silence unless called upon. He was after all, the father of a son himself, though that son was now grown and lost, far away at sea.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

As much as the idea of holding the birds and petting them up close appealed to the young noblewoman, Azraindil had to remain focus on her original task. The conspiracy. Unfortunately, she was way off on her initial assumptions about the bird-keeper profession. She was more disheartened then offended by Trevadir’s correction that all birds could be called raptors, rather than a single kind of them. But there was hardly any danger from other birds or predatory species of the air. Certainly not the kind that required the use of bows and arrows.

”You and your grandfather have good hearts, if you might try to capture and teach a bird that set upon one of your own, instead of the harsher, more obvious reply. I commend you for your compassion. Others might be more prone to anger.” She smiled up at the taller man, hoping he wouldn’t remain looking so serious and solemn. Maybe he was annoyed by her and the other ladies. Some boys could be like that. She hoped not, she was trying to be charming and graceful. She couldn’t help himself, Trevadir was interesting in many ways.

She thought up a new line of questioning. ”I do not think I would be able to shoot another creature, with a bow, I think, if it came down to it. Though, I would not mind some idle practice. Raptors shed much of their feathers, do they not? You must have some wonderful feathering for your arrows, if you partake in archery, that is. Do you?” She asked more pointedly, as they came to the edges of the food and drink section of the jousting grounds. She separated her hand from Trevadir and clasped them before her, looking around with a smile.

”What would be the gentleman’s delight?” She inquired, putting out the hint she would be happy to pay and acquire his food for him. For all of them, even. A favour for a favour, one might even say. Or a bribe. Mostly a bribe, if he told her what she needed to hear. Azraindil continued to smile at him so expectantly as she awaited his response.

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
After the second joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

The other man’s paranoia was not missed on Abrazimir, though he found it faultless and without blame. He knew their history well, the pair of them, and did not judge them for it. They accepted his offer of accompaniment and the addition of young Airelen to the party of younger children who grouped around his sister, Azraindil. He shared a laugh with Anardil about their own blissful days, in their youth, here in the grounds, fields and woods around Lond Côl. Back when the enemies and foes were figures of their own imagination and not very real and deadly presences in reality.

The mention of their mutual friend’s responsibility was to another duty, Abrazimir lost his smile and took on a look of concentration. And maybe his head was aching a bit too much for the information to be processed as fast as it usually was. What did you say? What duty could be more important than a gather such as this except for…danger. Deadly, fatal danger. That was his first thought. Surely if there was a danger, she would come and tell them, right? Especially Abrazimir. But alas, Lady Isys had a way of doing things that was strange to Abrazimir. He understood the whys. He just didn’t get the hows.

It was clear it was a grave matter, whatever was going on across the water. An unexpected guest, who could that be? He gave a look towards Lady Gaelanna, knowing whatever it might be that upset her must be more than usual. Someone not considered a friend, given the emphasis Anardil put on certain words. And he all but confirmed it when he stated they had a history of negative consequences for their home. Abrazimir reached over and tapped Anardil’s forearm lightly. Let it be for now. "The match is but a sport. Had I known, I would have followed her example and did my duty as well. But come, let us talk later. Here is my father.”

With the intermission declared, most of the upper nobility that gathered in the best spots at the top of the stands had dispersed somewhat. Abrazimir’s mother had gone off with some of the other women to look around and enjoy some refreshments. Some of the men remained with Lord Zâinabên, chatting about the prior match, the upcoming match, and all sorts of anecdotes about matches that had occurred in the distant or not-so-distant past. When Abrazimir approached with the Thavron esquire from across the water.

Lord Zâinabên noticed his son and gave a toasting gesture in his direction. ”Ah, here returns the victorious son. How’s the skull feeling?” The father asked Abrazimir, as the other lords looked on.

”I can still see that the sky is blue and the earth is green, so at the very least, it functions.” Abrazimir said. ”Much respect to the Talvens for going easy on me.” He added humbly, out of respect for his two opponents, father and son, that he unhorsed. Without impunity. ”Father, you remember Esquire Anardil Thavron and his wife, Lady Gaelanna and child Airelen?” Abrazimir gestured to the remainder of the family left behind.

”Aye,” Lord Zâinabên greeted them with a nod. He knew them by name, though not very personally, or the faces even attached with the names. And everyone knew of Lady Gaelanna’s face now. ”Good welcome, soldier.” Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor said curtly to the man.”So Esquire, both you and your lady-knight are absent from my tournament.” Lord Zâinabên suddenly stood to look on Anardil more directly. ”No doubt you two wish to jealously guard your title of victor, with no defeats, hm?” He taunted in his usual tone, which made Abrazimir draw a sharp intake of air through his nose, for Anardil had just spoken of the reason why they could not attend to him just a moment prior, for reasons that should remain secretive and perhaps not discussed openly here with a dozen ears listening. He hoped Anardil could give a neutral answer and allow them to break to have a more serious discussion aside somewhere. And maybe over a cool drink or two, his head was really start to hurt and burn.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

Meressel

A half an hour was quite a long time, Meressel thought, to merely sit around and make small talk and stare at an empty arena. And, since her peers were all seeming quite keen to go down and have a look at the wares for sale, and get some food, she intended to go along also. Her hair crisis had prevented her from getting any breakfast, after all.

It was a little surprising when the youngest member of their group spoke to her with such politeness, and it brought a smile to the girl's face. "I would be delighted to have you escort me, my lord." She answered with a proper curtsy. "Thank you ever so kindly." Of all of the options currently available to act as escort, he was certainly of the highest nobility, despite the fact he was quite young. And she would certainly rather not linger anywhere near her annoying little brother, nor his friend.

The question about missing the city made her smile widen slightly. "Oh, on the contrary," She replied. "I'm quite thrilled to have a chance to get away for a bit, and visit this lovely estate." She walked along at a pace matching young Emeredir's, and looked around with intrigue at the Dimaethor's estate as they went. "Do you enjoy your summer home?" She inquired, since the boy had mentioned it. "It must be lovely to be able to switch up where you live from time to time." She mentioned, wishing she had an enormous estate like this, to live in. And they also had a town house!?

She briefly glanced back toward where Dina was walking with Iuldir, partly checking that her cousin was still nearby, before turning her attention back to young lord Azrubel. "And I agree," She added with a big smile. "this is indeed a wonderful event, and certainly worth the long trip. I, too, hope there will be a great many more such events." She declared, eager to see more parties and things of the sort, for which she could dress up and have fun and not sit around with only her cousin for company. Which of course, was better than her brother's company, any day.

---

Caeleb

Taking up the rear of their small parade, it was a sore trial for Caeleb not to roll his eyes as he watched his big sister chatting with Merry. He watched the group ahead, and resisted the temptation to glance back and check if his mother was watching. He felt as if he could actually feel her gaze following them, but it could all be in his head. He was a little startled from his thoughts, when Ruberon spoke to him. Faster? Yes.. faster faster faster! he thought, fighting a grin. But he knew better than to dare request such a thing. The watchful gaze would quickly become a frantically fussing female intent on whisking him off to the safety of bed, and insist he could not risk his health in such a way, and therefore he ought to remain in the tent tomorrow, for his own sake, and blah blah. He knew how it worked.

Tilting his head up and back, Caeleb smiled at Ruberon. "Thank you, sir." He replied, politely. "This is just fine." He also had to fight the urge to reach out and pick a weed that was growing along the edge of the road, and shoot the top of it at his sister's back. That was a trick Iuldir had taught him, and it was ever so amusing when he could catch Meressel off guard and hit her with one of those.

---

Trevadir

Trevadir shrugged slightly in response to Azraindil's comment about them having good hearts. "No sense in killing anything unnecessarily. Right?" He answered quietly. "But, as I said.. the bigger raptors rarely have any trouble with another bird attacking them." He smiled with slight amusement as she mentioned that others might be prone to anger. "I can assure you that I do have a temper, m'lady, but that has little to do with this. If a wild eagle, for instance, attacked Ruinya.. you'd have to have extremely precise aim to be able to hit the eagle instead of Ruinya as they fight.. because you know.. they'd be flying around in the air and possibly locked in battle with each other." he tried to explain it better. "And also, I've never seen this myself, but I've heard of crows and other smaller birds grouping together to attack a hawk.. then you'd have to shoot several birds to save one, and I can't even imagine trying that." He shrugged. "Grandfather keeps our birds safe and secure when they aren't out hunting. And when he goes out hunting, he tries to be aware of anything that could pose a threat to the birds."

They continued walking, and now she spoke again about bows and arrows, and how the feathers of the birds must be useful for arrows. He considered her words thoughtfully for a moment. "Shedding their feathers is called 'molting'," He informed her, so she would know for future use, "And, yes.. they molt fairly often, depending on the bird and its age." He agreed. "I'm not really sure what happens with the feathers. Perhaps they are used, somehow, for different purposes. The longer ones might be used for arrows, I guess. I've never really asked about that." He realized. That had never really been something he'd given much consideration about.

But when she specifically asked him whether he partook in archery, he glanced over at her curiously. "No, I don't. Archery has never appealed to me, personally, though I have friends who find it more appealing than I do." He answered, shaking his head slightly, then gave an apologetic shrug. Was that the whole point of all these questions? And to what end, he wondered. Perhaps it was something she was good at, and she hoped to discuss it, but wasn't sure if everyone in the group was interested? He thought perhaps he should let her know that wouldn't bother him. "But, if it is something you have interest in discussing," He added, since she'd mentioned 'idle practice', "I have no objection to hearing others talk about archery, or anything else they find interesting." He didn't want her to feel as if she couldn't talk about it, just because it was not a skill that he pursued for himself.

They had arrived at the food stall, and he had to take a look at the board to see what the options were. Everything listed sounded good, and he didn't really feel like he ought to take a lengthy time debating about it. He smiled politely. "Whatever you choose will be fine with me, m'lady," He assured her. "I've certainly endured far worse fare, without complaint," He added with a faint smile.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
with the group of young folks. Intermission of the Joust - Day 2.

Merry’s smile mirrored that of Meressel, as the young lady accepted his escort. He had worried, though hoped it did not show, that she might laugh at him, or at the very idea that he was capable of defending her, honour or otherwise, with his presence. It was not as though there likely would be any need, not here, of course. And as he registered this fact, and the young lady responded with nothing but niceties .. the young lord began to relax a little.

“Oh of course,” he agreed, upon the matter of the Prince’s city. “Both my mother and my father lived in Dol Amroth for many years, for their .. for they found it very pleasant.” he replied. “But mother could not bear to part with his house, after she was already parted from him, .. so it is now a gallery most of the year. In his name, you know. Any artist can show their work there and then there’s a great prize once a year. We go there for the ceremony really but then we stay afterwards for two whole months. We have a super housekeeper who changes it all back to just how things were, for while the gallery is closed. It is nice to be able to see what my lord father painted and where he used to live before. I don’t much remember him really.”

The sentiment stalled the boy’s dialogue, and the sadness held him from recognising he may have run off at the mouth a little. Perhaps she wasn’t really interested and was only being polite, after all ? There was not much else he might offer on the subject of her home city regardless. He had not yet reached the age which was enough – apparently – to explore the city by himself, or at all really. Beyond their house.


“It is not usually this exciting out this way,” Merry remembered to respond to the lady’s remarks and it was easy to applaude his kinsman’s event. “The joust has been my favourite part so far,” he admitted, though of course that had been the most of all that occurred so far. “Perhaps though you care more for the dancing and feasting that is still to come ? There is going to be archery too, and horse racing I heard,” he celebrated, wondering if this young lady might be Caeleb’s archery-experienced cousin, or the other .. the sister. Well maybe her response would aid him in working it out without having to ask. That would be rude after all. Usually there was somebody to whisper to him these sorts of things, but Ruberon was out of immediate earshot, and engaged in helping his friend. For it appeared they had reached the diverse spread of stalls and refreshments.

---

@Lantaelen

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, with Lotte and Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Arrival at the Noble Stands, from the general crowd. Joust – Day 2 – Intermission

It was not quite clear how much of the true situation had been grasped by the Knight. Still Warder had to believe that he had passed on his lady’s want to have Abrazimir ‘informed’, rather more effectively than if she had gone about the delivery of the news herself. The Squire then was readied to assure the Lord that it was better he had not been likewise ‘distracted’ at the time. As it was, the course of the event had gone more or less without interruption. An abrupt absence of the Lady Ilisys was far less concerning for the jousting crowd than would have been the absence of their host’s heir and resident favourite as well. If the ill-timed Umbarian had meant to devastate the entire proceedings of the event with his arrival, then that hope had been relatively thwarted. Noone would imagine that the ‘blip’ was anything more than yet another example of the lady knight’s eccentricity. Not for the first time, her squire was quite astounded how easily the lady was excused almost any unusual conduct, due to her just being ‘her’.

The exception to this tolerance was perhaps at hand though, as their little party reached the seated Lords and Ladies. Lotte and Warder noted rather immediately that her husband, and his brother, respectively, had departed from the stands. But the two elder Ladies Azrubel were of course, awaiting them. With Elen inescapably at their side. Lotte hid her disappointment about not uniting with Ruberon for now, and went on without word to take her place with her fellow lady in waiting. Warder was no more pleased though to find himself uncomfortably held in expectation by the elder Lord Dimaethor himself.


“My Lord,” he returned, politely to the elder nobleman’s acknowledgement with a formal bow. “Indeed my Lady Ilisys would have me speak out apologies on her behalf for failing to entertain your guests,” he imagined. Hoped, perhaps. For she had told him to convey nothing of the sort, in truth, and who knew what her thoughts would have been, should she have considered the matter aloud in his presence. “Though as I understand,” he held ground and patience, enough to add, “my Lady’s title as the Golden lance of Dol Amroth was championed, this long, with thoughts only to ensure that the title stayed in the name of Lond Col,” Warder lowered his chin into his throat, effectively masking his nervous swallow, before he resumed.

“Now that your lord son is himself representing in this sport, and in particular your House hosting this grand event, sir, .. my Lady knight reconsidered how it might appear to have the two banks of a mutual fief be seen to compete against one another. As though there could rise any doubt that both Houses do any but support one another, so that this estate entire and the estuary are maintained. We are proud to raise the name of Dimaethor in due turn and recognition of how unstintingly your House have ever championed the House of Azrubel in it's turn, my lord.”

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

She quirked an eyebrow when Trevadir warned her that he had a temper. That sounded intriguing, for such a seemingly nice young man, to give promise of possessing a darker side. If only she knew the truth about this young man. He spoke with calm deliberation, the difficulties of raptor-on-raptor violence, and of impeding such an affair if it was to occur. ”You’re an expert at your craft too, like your grandfather. Or you soon will be.” She complimented his vast array of knowledge on this subject. And yet he said he was only visiting from abroad, the other day when they visited his grandfather’s stall. He must be intelligent to retain all this knowledge and wisdom from these few meetings.

Prior to the food stalls, he told her about the concept of molting, though he did not know what happened to any of the feathers that might be shed from his grandfather’s birds. ”Oh,” she mused, somewhat hesitant at first, ”if it’s harmless, and not an issue, I would like to have some of the feathers that fall off, if you might be so grateful as to keep some aside for me. Today or tomorrow?” She queried him, hoping it wasn’t such a big ask. Maybe she could use them to make some of her own rudimentary arrows, for personal practice.

But her original plan and conspiracy was sinking fast, as Trevadir did not match the swift qualities of his raptors, being skilled in the use of bow and feathered shafts. ”I’m sorry,” she said with a slight smile, when he seemed put off by all her questions, ”you seemed to know so much, I just assumed. Wrongfully so. I do have an interest in discussing and learning more. And you were so helpful in so many things, I guess I overstepped in believing this about you. You’ll forgive me, please?” She asked him, putting her hand on his shoulder briefly, and giving him her most charming smile. But inside, she knew she had to recalculate her scheme somehow.

Well, it would be better to plot and scheme with full bellies and cool drinks under the rising morning sun, which was growing stronger and bringing greater heat and warmth to the tourney grounds. ”I will arrange the foodstuffs. We’ll have ourselves a picnic, us ladies and you gentlemen.” She gestured to the group following behind them and then left Trevadir to make the arrangements.

She walked around to each stall, being known as the daughter of the Lord, though she had a small purse full of silver coins from her own allowances to cover the costs. From various bakers, she ordered two baskets full of various breads, with oats and others with cheese, and other ingredients mixed in, as well as biscuits and small white cakes. She got another basket with a bundled salad, lettuce, onions, black olives, tomato cuts, and more. A small iron kettle with meaty broth was fetched at another. And four flagons of drink, two of honey water, two of berry juices. Another basket was prepared with cutlery and plates and napkins. And finally, a basket of sweets and other goodies, for after. There was at least one basket for each member of their little group to haul, Azraindil, Trevadir, Dulinneth, Meressel, Dinalogossel, Iuldir, Tobedir, and Lord Emeredir. Caeleb and Ruberon brought up the rear.

She hoped her lady friends wouldn’t object to a little labour, though it was probably best to ask Lord Emeredir Azrubêl because of his rank. Azraindil came to him with one of the bread baskets and gave a little curtsey to him. ”Cousin, I hope you would not object to carrying this for me?” She smiled down at her neighbour. She hoped he would be agreeable. Everyone had something to carry. Best leave the flagons, the lightest of the load, for the ladies and youngest to carry. Look at Azraindil, organizing and dividing up labour. Her father might be actually proud of her initiative and organizational ability.

Azraindil picked up the basket with the sweets and candies and brought that one to Dulinneth. ”Guard this with your life. No one is to have any, even to look, until the end of the feast.” She teased as she handed it over. ”My plan failed. We might have to find another.” She also whispered over, before taking another basket for herself to carry. Others might overhear that. But afterwards, she walked back to Trevadir’s side and smiled at him for a moment.

”Are we ready? Shall we have ourselves a little feast, fellas?” Azraindil asked the group in a cheery tone, using a vulgar word to refer to the group, something she heard her brother say once when referring to their soldiers and mariners. It was a nice, cozy little term. Fellas, some sort of shortening of the word ‘fellows’. A lady should never use slang!

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
After the second joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

”Our guests,” Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor made sure to interject, even before Anardil had said a dozen or so words. Were the Dimaethors and Azrubêls not an alliance? What prosperity and success happened on one, ought to be shared with the other, and in return. Did that also apply to failures and mistakes? Lord Zâinabên still remembered, how this very Lady Ilisys had talked his son into not one, but two risky adventures into the southlands, with great loss and boats. Lord Zâinabên felt that sacrifice entitled them to some sort of partnership.

Of course, it played into Anardil’s next statement and attempts to placate the elderly Lord, saying the Lady’s title was shared amongst them all. So why is she hoarding it to herself and not allowing another to take a shot? Abrazimir tried not to roll his eyes but his father was proud. Too proud. Anardil though countered with strong statements about their shared perception and repute, with also their competition being in all fairness to other families and competitors. Lord Zâinabên was evidently not impressed by the sentiments, though persuaded enough to allow it. Who cared what the other families might think? Change was effected on the sands, not with gossiping words in the stands.

And naturally, he did not consider even his own, prior thoughts and words spoken about a certain Lord Himhathol.

”Hmm.” Lord Zâinabên said at first, his eyes boring into Anardil after his comments. ”You…should have been a herald. It suits you better. If you are going to make fables for Lords and Ladies, don’t you think you deserve a little more coin for your efforts, eh?” He said, speaking serious, expression unmoving, but…he was teasing the young man, and after a moment, smirked and leaned back, visibly deflating and losing much of his intensity. Just natural ribbing, between an old dog and a new dog. ”I hope you are well appreciated over there, Esquire. Is that your Lady wife over there?” He gestured then to Lady Gaelanna. ”Tell her we are glad to have her back among us.”

He let Anardil say some words to his own ladies, the pair of Azrubêls ladies seated with the higher lords and nobles. After that, Anardil’s obligation of greeting would be finished. And he and Abrazimir could descent back to the railing, where Lady Gaelanna and Airelen waited. Before they could reach the mother and daughter, Abrazimir tapped Anardil’s shoulder. ”Apologies if that was roughshod. The older he gets the more… never mind. Why don’t you take your family to have a bite to eat and something to drink? I am going to go over to see your Lady, get the full report.” Abrazimir informed Anardil, though if the Esquire wished to accompany Abrazimir, he could. His family would be well protected here.

---

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên of House Dimaethor
During the Intermission, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

After his son and the esquire departed, Lord Zâinabên shifted to engage his fellow lords and ladies in the usual discussion. Give thanks to the Valar for such a bright and beautiful day for a joust! The clouds were clearing, the blue sky was coming through, and the sun was shining brightly. But the eyes of the old lord caught sight of another, usually absentee figure, surprised to see their presence for once among them.

”Heh,” Lord Zâinabên mused at first, before calling out, loudly, to the figure in question, ”Ansellidus!” He called out in a cheery tone, while also not adding the prefix of Lord. ”What are you doing, seated here with us old codgers? Should your seat not be upon a horse, competing in the joust with lance and shield? Your appointed champion, he was rather courageous the other day.” Lord Zâinabên spoke out, certainly not meaning the word in any true definition. Courageous as in going against the grain, ethics, and rules of the sport. And the Lord Ansellidus just let the man ride in under his wing and reputation?

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

| |
Meressel, Dina, & Iuldir
Intermission time

"A gallery? That sounds quite interesting." Meressel replied, though she was not much of an artist, herself. "I believe Dulinneth enjoys painting, perhaps you ought to mention that to her?" She suggested, with a nod to the youngest member of the Talven family, walking a bit ahead, with Tobedir.

Overhearing Meressel's comment about Dulinneth, Dina hesitated briefly before glancing toward Iuldir. She knew he was good friends with her cousin, one of the few that he saw regularly, and the two were quite close. As for herself, she always tried to remain neutral between the two fueding siblings. They were both her cousins, after all, and she liked them both in their own way. It was often exasperating that they did not get along, and she often ended up in the middle, trying to mediate between them. At the moment, she felt somehow.. compelled to speak up on her younger cousin's behalf, to remind the elder that he also had artistic talent. She used her slightly longer stride to catch up slightly with Meressel and Emeredir, bringing Iuldir along with her. "I'm sure Dulinneth is an excellent artist, but she is not the only one that you know, Meressel," Dina commented softly, nearing her cousin's side.

Meressel glanced over at her with some puzzlement, while Dina had to refrain from rolling her eyes. "Your brother? He also enjoys sketching." She reminded the girl.

"Oh, yes. He does do a few doodles, I suppose." Meressel replied with an uninterested sort of tone. Inwardly, she was not very pleased to have the topic turned toward her brother. As always, it seemed.

"Caeleb does some very good drawings, actually." Iuldir spoke up in defense of his friend, with a little grin toward Merry as both pairs continued toward the food selling booths, walking together now. "You should see some of his drawings." He suggested with a bit of a smile. Of course, with having little else to do but read and draw, Caeleb had had plenty of time to practice the few hobbies that he could manage without the use of his legs, so it stood to reason he would have gotten good at something of the sort.

As the young lord Azrubel mentioned not remembering his father, it left Meressel a bit unsure what to say in reply. She couldn't quite imagine not remembering one's own parent, and often felt annoyed with her own. Everything she could think of to say, she somehow felt that her mother would say was not polite. And so, she said nothing.

Dina, meanwhile, bit her lip lightly, feeling bad for him, but unsure if it would be out of place for her to try and offer any sympathetic words or expressions, or anything of the sort. Still, she understood that feeling much better than her cousin, as she had never known her father, and had not seen her mother in about seven years. But she did not know Emeredir, and was not sure what would be welcome or not, in reaction to such a comment.

Iuldir frowned to himself, thinking as the group continued on. For a moment, in silence, but he was thinking. Thinking about the best way to try and be a proper friend to the younger boy, to try and make him feel better. Lord or not, there was a similarity between them that Iuldir well understood, possibly better than any of the others assembled here.


Glad when the topic moved on, Meressel smiled when Emeredir spoke of how exciting the joust was. "It is certainly exciting to watch, and there is a certain anticipation, waiting to see who the victor will be. Though I admit, I know little of the sport, myself." She smiled and shrugged slightly. "I do prefer the dancing, and I look forward to that, later." She admitted. "Are you planning on entering any sort of contests, yourself, m'lord?" She asked with polite interest.

The group stopped near one of the food booths, soon after. While their host, Lady Azraindil, spoke with Trevadir off to the side, Iuldir stepped away from Dina, once there was a brief lull in the conversation. For the moment, he wasn't concerned with 'escorting her', which was really only some stuffy nobility thing for appearances, as far as he could tell. He stepped up next to Merry, instead, and offered a smile as he put an arm around his younger friend's shoulders. He was not nearly as shy as Dina.

"I hardly remember my father, either." He let him know, in a whisper, in case it might help him to know he was not the only one with such a plight. "It's always nice though, to see something that he made, isn't it?" He smiled with understanding, at that part. Paintings, metalwork.. whatever the case... Seeing something crafted by your own, departed father, had something special about it, and he completely understood that. "Sometimes, my little sister asks me questions, and I have to try really hard to remember what I can about him." He offered a slightly sad smile. "Our mother's always too sad to talk about him, so I have to remember as well as I can, for Rissy. My aunt came to stay with us for a while, and she helped some, but.. it's not the same as remembering, myself." He shrugged and stepped away again. In case the contact was not welcome. Though, he remained near enough for further discussion, if Merry wished to speak more on the subject.


After a little while, their picnic 'feast' had been acquired and it seemed logical for them each to carry something. While Meressel was not particularly in favor of having to carry anything, she made no objection and merely smiled and accepted her load without complaint. At least it wasn't all that heavy.

Dina offered to take more than one thing, if needed, while Iuldir volunteered to carry one or two of the heavier baskets.

---

Trevadir

Trev managed a faint smile as Lady Azrain spoke of him being a 'master of his craft'. "I.. wouldn't really say that." He answered with a slightly awkward laugh at the compliment. "I'm really only mildly interested in falconry.. and really only because it is part of my family heritage. In truth, my interests are far more attuned to music." He couldn't resist the slight pun, and tried to hide a grin as he said it. "But, I'm nowhere near a 'master' at that, either." He added with a little shrug. In truth, he'd only recently begun learning to read the sheet music, thanks to Macardil. And he felt that he still had a great deal left to learn before he could even consider claiming to be a master at it, despite his great love for music.

When she asked whether he could get her any of the molted feathers, he was a bit surprised, but nodded. "Sure, I don't see why not." He answered, though he wasn't sure what she might want with them. "It should be easy enough to get some." He assured her, though he wasn't sure what he might be able to gather up for her in that time. Still, he knew the birds were often dropping a feather here and there, when they groomed themselves and such.

As she responded to his reply about archery, he felt a little tension fade away. He had been anticipating, and mentally preparing himself, for a different sort of response. It was a great relief when her reaction remained polite and that she didn't instantly lose interest in talking to him. It would have been quite a sting, but the worst part of such a reaction would have been in having to realize that his father was right.. and so, a great part of his relief was mostly a personal satisfaction in the fact that the young lady had proven Dev wrong, at least about the way Dev claimed that 'all nobles' are like. Although he still wasn't entirely sure what to expect, at least he knew she wasn't the sort to lose the politeness the moment she found that he had nothing to offer that she wanted from him. Or, so he hoped.

It took him a second before realizing she had asked forgiveness in assuming, and he was so surprised by it, he almost neglected to respond. "Of course, m'lady." He answered after a brief pause, once he realized she had asked that. As she went to make arrangements, he let out a slow breath before glancing around to find his brother. He seemed to be involved in conversation with Dulinneth about animals.

Once several baskets and things were obtained, Trev took it upon himself to claim whatever the heaviest item was, to carry. He was, after all, the oldest gentleman present, and clearly the strongest. Of that, he had no doubt, since the others were still practically boys, and the only one who had yet done any real work was Iuldir, with the forge. But he was still pretty young and new to his trade.

Soon, they were setting off to wherever Lady Azraindil intended to have the picnic. Trev had been considering her words about having an interest in discussing and learning more about archery. "You know," He mentioned thoughtfully, once she had taken up a position beside him again. "Even though I know nothing about archery, I do have a friend who's pretty good at it, from what I've heard." He shrugged. "If you like, if you have some particular question about that, maybe I could ask him for you when I get a chance. Or... something?" He offered, unsure exactly what it was that the lady wanted to know about this topic.

---

Dulinneth

At the charge of guarding the basket with her life, Dulinneth grinned and nodded with a mock serious look. "You can count on me." She promised, hugging the basket close. After hearing that the plan had failed, she frowned slightly but nodded, hiding her disappointment. So, how else could they manage this? She ignored the questioning glance that Toby had given her, since he had been standing nearby. "We'll figure something out." She whispered, as vaguely as she could manage.

She was thinking about it, herself, as she and Toby followed the others toward where their picnic would be happening. But she couldn't think of anyone she knew, besides Togg, who would have any expertise on the matter, and she certainly wasn't about to ask him for any help in this. Hopefully, Gaer would figure out something instead.

[Ercassie]

@Lantaelen

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, with both of the Lords Dimaethor
Having made with the niceties, at the Noble Stands. Joust – Day 2 – Intermission

The elder Lord Dimaethor did not make Warder wait long before delivering his own speech in return. And while it was an outwardly warm and encouraging address, the younger man knew well enough that it was a performance likely meant to keep up the show for the nobleman’s friends at hand, more than for the likes of him to take very personally. “You are most kind, my Lord,” Warder responded politely all the same, and in the time rightly allowed for him to do so. “I am happy to report that it is, yes. We are all extremely glad to be here.”

Since it would be unseemly to hold the host of the event in such distractions for much longer, Warder left Abrazimir to take up the attention of the man’s father and friends both. While the squire attended his own pair of grand figureheads.


“My Lady, my Lady” he greeted both the Ladies Eressild and Sirdis, even as the latter sighed to have her son refer to her so in fine company. Whilst drawing public attention to their rather unconventional set-up would never be her aim, there was such a thing as going too far in the opposite direction. She was not at all ashamed of the well turned out and mannered young man. “I am glad to find you both in such elation,” he bowed, following all protocol. “And hope to only add to your comfort by assuring both that the estate was in good care, before I took leave.”

---

The Ladies Eressild and Sirdis Azrubêl. Attended by Elen and also now Lotte.
Interrogating Warder, seated in the Stands. Joust – Day 2 – Intermission

“I am pleased to see that you did not come alone,” Eressild admitted, conveying of course a twofold meaning she was not at liberty to clarify in company.

“The entire family were pleased to have the unexpected chance to attend after all,” Warder answered swiftly. He knew that the Lady must have recognised her daughter’s armour, even if no other sign were evident that that same daughter was the one wearing it. He knew also that the grander Lady likely understood the cause.

“It is a shame that we can not all be together to observe the entertainment unfolding,” Sirdis interjected for her own sake then. And her son was left to decide if she meant that she wished for his wife and daughter to have come over and sit with them, or that she was privately glad they had not. He leaned of course towards the former, for his mother had known Gael since the latter was a child and the former had showcased nothing but gladness to now call her ‘daughter-in-law’.

“It is as it must be,” the man replied, content in the decision. He no more wished to take up a seat in the stands here, than Ilisys did. Though he would likely be somewhat less welcome to. “My daughter is enjoying the close view of the colliding horses,” he added, a moment later, to console them that nobody felt like they were missing out.

“Just be sure that nobody gets hurt,” his mother urged, more quietly as she leaned forward in her seat. “Thank you for escorting Lotte over to us,” she then shared, with greater volume. Even as Elen tutted at the inconsistencies of order, rather than be glad she no longer had to wait on both the ladies all by herself.

With a nod, Warder readied to walk back over toward the crowds with Abrazimir.

---

@Lantaelen

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Returning to the Crowd behind the railings. Joust – Day 2 – Intermission

Returned to privacy anew, Warder wanted to ask Abrazimir about his tilt and how he felt in the wake of it.. since if Isys had taken such a brunt about the head as that, her squire would certainly not have seen her strolling about the place so soon afterwards. But when the nobleman broke words upon their leisurely little jaunt, it was on a different subject.

“There is no call for apologies,” he replied, honestly. For he had surely known sharper tongues and far worse in the world beyond these cloistered social circles. “If it please you,” he then said, in answer to the Knight’s suggestion. “it might just take both of my daughter’s parents to keep her out of mischief.”

And so, as the two men came to the little family, one led that little family to go explore what delights might be found amongst the stalls. The armoured escort, left now with nobody to mind, and the majority of the gathered masses engaged in looking every other which way .. silently appraised Abrazimir and led him without any word or direction, a ways off from the crowd. There she removed her helm, shaking dark hair free of the gleaming gorget, and lowered the polished headpiece in one hand, aside the smooth rise of a slender tree.


“My disguise was better,” Isys smiled, leading him to guess quite what it might have been better than .. While she narrowed grey eyes and examined the knight's face with closer scrutiny than had been managed before. “How is your head, after the blow received ?” she wondered aloud, of both the head injury, and his feeling on the news that her squire had vowed to deliver.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Observing the joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Azraindil giggled at Dulinneth’s playful show of solemnity at taking the dessert basket. She could indeed always count on Dulinneth for anything. She nodded to her friend’s assurance that they would figure out their archery situation someway, somehow. What did they have to do? Get access to bows and arrows for one. Find a safe, private area. Some targets. Someone to show them how…or maybe they did not need that part. How difficult could it be? Set an arrow, draw it back, loose? Azraindil felt it might be intuitive enough to figure out.

The baskets were distributed, with the boys offering to take more than one if necessary. She soon found herself joined again by Trevadir – bird boy with a so-called temper – as they walked to a designated area for picnicking, away from the food tents. It made her smile towards him. He seemed so innocent and unassuming. They all were, in a way. He spoke again on Azraindil’s desire, offering up the knowledge of another, a friend, if he himself could not deliver.

”You are so gallant. But I would not impose upon you to serve as some sort of messenger, running back and forth.” She said courteously to him as they walked in their rudimentary procession to a nearby meadow, with wildflowers and tall grass. It was on a small slope about fifty paces from the tourney grounds, giving them a good view of it all with the familial home and ocean beyond, as well as nature and wilderness all around them.

”How about…maybe you can introduce me to your friend? Or bring your friend to join us. I’ll host another picnic, all for you and him.” Azraindil beamed up at Trevadir, hoping one of these alternatives might work for him. She couldn’t imagine him running back and forth, trying to teach them archery with second-hand guidance from another.

When they arrived at the place, she turned to the others. Some of the baskets had a folded blanket or two to spread out. ”Shall we sit in a circle? It will be easier to pass food and snacks around.” She suggested to the group. ”Perhaps we might play a game or two after.” She added as well, wondering if anyone had suggestions for that. She hadn’t done something like that in a while.

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
After the second joust, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

The meeting between Anardil, Lord Dimaethor, and the two Azrubêl women, Ladies Eressild and Sirdis went off without any further diplomatic incidents. Lord Dimaethor soon became distracted by another thing and there was talk about whether Lady Gaelanna and her child might join the adults up here. While it was appropriate, those of their age group, Abrazimir, Ilisys, and others, preferred not be regarded in the same vein as old people yet, and tended to their own independent ventures and observances at functions such as this. There would be plenty of time in their old age to be servile to tradition and decorum.

Anardil returned and voiced he would have to help his wife in managing their enthusiastic and excited child. He smiled, glad to see Gaelanna have some measure of happiness and distraction after all she had been through. ”Remember, my offer always stands. We’ll talk again later.” He reminded Anardil, about allowing Airelen to spend time with Azraindil and the other youngsters. It would be good to make friends. As they rejoined the mother and daughter, Abrazimir nodded his farewells for the present and hoped they would find some entertaining spectacles to enjoy throughout the day.

And then they were off…but left their escort behind. The armoured individual signaled Abrazimir, which was most curious, and he followed, wondering if this was another message or hidden note regarding whatever was afoot on the other side of the river. Abrazimir was serious, and half on his guard, expecting some terrible news or advanced warning of some disaster. But when the guard removed their helmet, revealing a familiar face, Abrazimir faltered and immediately broke into a hearty laugh.

”Oh, it’s you.” He snickered, fists on his hips, looking her over from head to toe, then back to her face, with piqued eyebrows that showcased all his confusion and puzzlement. ”It hurts. I feel like…if I pause, or become idle, it becomes much more keen and vivid. Like…dwarves in my head, mining through my skull. Don’t know what they would find up there though.” He jested about his mental capacity and the overall value of his mind.

”I need to keep busy.” He said, though just mentioning the head wound seemed to make it crawl up twice as potent as before. He endured the throbbing, trying not to show any sign of it towards Ilisys. He dropped his voice low to a whisper now, taking a step closer to have a more private conversation. ”And you? Been keeping very busy, I see and hear. At least you dressed correctly for the competition. Anardil said you had an unexpected guest.” One that greatly discomforted his wife, by the squire’s own admission. That could only mean…a very small number of people. None of whom were considered friends to Gondor.

”So, talk to me, coz.” Abrazimir encouraged her to speak. ”Whatever you need from me, you know you got it.” He proclaimed before he even knew the true detail. But with Isys, who led him through thick and thin and worse, he was always devoted to her plans and schemes. He learned by now to trust her without question. Regardless of the danger.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
with the group of young folks. Intermission of the Joust - Day 2.

For all that she claimed to find it interesting, the lady at his side swiftly suggested that Merry ought speak to her friend, about art and galleries. Which he worried to mean that his current consort found the subject rather less interesting after all. Still it seemed that others of their coupled group had found the matter compelling enough to join in the conversation, for the nearest pairing both suggested another perhaps even more interested party. Surprised to find the topic had proven so popular with the other children, the young Lord counted this venture as a success. Particularly when the newly involved lady referred to his walking partner by name. Meressel ! He now knew who he was speaking to, and that was always helpful. Not to mention that he need not offend her now by declaring his ignorance and having to actually ask !

“I would be glad to see Caeleb’s drawings,” he assured Iuldir and the other Lady Eglathor. “And I have no reason to doubt your recommending Dulinneth, my lady,” he hastened to pledge to Meressel. “Our gallerist is always happy to show new artists, so if you wish, I can let him know to expect your works. It would be up to my mother to decide who wins the prize though.”


Very grateful that he would not personally have to choose between the talent of two new friends, Merry was lost in a medley of thrills, when Meressel chose the lighter of the two remaining topics to respond to. “The joust is positively death defying,” he grinned, widely, unable to defuse his zeal, regardless. “I bet that men will compete just as furiously though, for a hope to dance with you, my lady,” he ducked his little chin politely. He did not propose the prospect of their actual dancing together, based on their age and height, and also the fact that he rather hoped he would not have to dance at all at this event.

“I was hoping to try my archery against actual other competitors,” he admitted then, his expression losing some of it’s fervour as he faced the truth of it. “Sadly though, since my cousin has withdrawn from the joust, I am unable to represent my house in any event either. We must make a show of solidasamy,” he sighed, innocently oblivious to ruining his aunt’s coaching. ‘Solidarity’ was not an easy word for a young man to get his tongue around, especially when trying to remember all the other things he ought to and ought not to say. Since he did not know though, of the true cause why Ilisys had pulled out from a sport which she enjoyed, he could only assume that his mother and aunt had played some hand in it. No doubt in order to protect him from getting hurt, as though there were any real risk of that. “I expect I will enjoy watching almost as much. Though it is a disappointment to be denied what others may do, I'm sure you will agree ?” he asked, managing to do so without casting a curious eye back toward her brother.


Their hostess seemed by now extremely busy all about the matters of provision, and Merry was engaged in trying to look ‘ready’, should Azraindil look to him for support. But she had clearly found the elders of their group more fitting, and the young lord was surprised instead by an unexpected affection. While Iuldir’s confession was one that might have expected sorrow, it came over as more of a understanding from the other boy. He had lost his father too. Merry did not share his first thought, that maybe many children were now growing up without a father, after the great war. Rather he was glad to share this mutual bond with another of their group.

“I think so,” he agreed. “And I am sorry for your loss, Iuldir” he remembered. People said that to him all the time, so he felt sure it must be right. It was politeness, rather than a real admitting of guilt, he'd been assured. “It must be nice to have a little sister,” he smiled then, trying to imagine. “I have a niece,” he confided. “But it is not quite the same. My brother is so much older than me you see, and I forget sometimes that he lost his father too, because well, he is a father himself.”


It was at that point that Azraindil asked leave of the young lord to play his part, and Merry shook Iuldir’s hand, as he imagined to be a proper thankyou for the kindness. “Of course, I should be honoured, cousin,” he agreed, without further hesitation. And before they knew it, each hand held a basket and their collective eyes soon feasted on a fetching field, where they were to hold their picnic.

“I have never had a picnic before,” he admitted, to Dina, with an almost nervous glance toward Rube, in case there was anything he ought to be prepared for. “But games do sound fun. And the food and drink look very .. fine,” he toasted as they began to sit down.

“Just relax,” Ruberon mouthed to him without volume, “Enjoy it,” the servant further urged. As Emeredir then nodded at what he hadn't quite understood of the charades, but glanced about him to see what the others did, so that he would not stand out.


“Are you happy in your chair, my lord ?” Rube asked then of Caeleb. The old man had managed the recent wheeled progress across the grass with as little jostling about as he could possibly manage for his passenger, and set the brake as he had been shown. He was not sure that the young lord might not be happier sitting down upon the grass with the other children, or that he might not wish to have them see him carried out and then back into his chair to allow for it. He was happy to be directed, since he was unfamiliar with the little 'fella'. He had been forced to stifle a smile when the young lady used such a term, though he did not mean to discourage the youths by any means.

“If I can be of any assistance .. ?” he offered, not just his current charge, or his usual ward, but the group in general. Technically he was the only adult in attendance, even if he was stood to serve at their whim. It was proving to be a rather more entertaining day for him than he had expected at the outset.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

Trevadir

The lady called him 'gallant', but he wasn't sure how well he agreed about that. He had just been trying to offer what help he could, but he shrugged slightly. He hadn't quite meant to say he would be running 'back and forth' with messages, more like.. if she had anything specific that she wanted to know about the topic, maybe he could find out from his friend and then relay that information the next time he saw the lady.

When she suggested that he introduce her to his friend, Trev smiled faintly. "I'm sure I could do that, after this match is over." He was debating whether to tell her who the friend was, when she mentioned the idea that he could join them, or that she could host a picnic for just Trev and his friend. Trev glanced at her. Was she serious? He didn't quite know what to say to that, but while she led the way to where she wanted to have this picnic, Trev took the time to think. He really doubted that that Macardil would agree to a picnic with the young lady, unless it also included the lady's father or brother, and in that case, Trev would definitely not like to be around. Also... he had a suspicion that she was not interested in her father knowing about her pursuit of archery knowledge. But he couldn't say for sure about that. Not that it mattered a lot to Trev, but to others, it might.

He kept quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself for now, as he followed and helped spread out the blanket and whatever else was required for the setup. He was still not entirely sure how he got into this, and wondered also how much time they had left. He definitely did not want to miss the next match, since it was the only one for today that he actually cared very much about seeing. And the outcome of this one would determine whether he had any interest in watching tomorrow's match, too.

---

The others

Meressel didn't have much comment to add to the joust being 'death defying'. "I'm just glad none of the really handsome knights were badly hurt.. so far." She remarked with a slightly dreamy sigh. "It's a shame there don't seem to be any who are closer to my age, though." She found that to be extremely unfair, and a part of her wondered if there simply were not any young men of the right age for her, or if they had all died in the war or something.

When Merry added on about the men fighting to dance with her, the comment brought a smile to her face. "It is very kind of you to say so," She smiled, pleased at the thought of handsome young men fighting to get to dance with her. But would they? She supposed she would have to wait and find out at the dance. It seemed like an eternity away, and she had to hold back a sigh.

While her cousin inwardly lamented about the lack of eligible young noblemen and knights, Dina spoke up again. "I'm sorry to hear that you were denied the chance to compete," She told him, understanding that rather well, as well. "Perhaps there will be another chance, before long." She tried to offer some hope, and hesitated slightly. "Are you very good at archery? It seems you must be, if you were hoping to compete," She mentioned with mild curiosity lingering in her tone.

"Oh, it certainly is disappointing," Meressel agreed with the boy's words about being denied doing things you want to do. Although it did not even occur to her to consider her brother's predicament. Rather, she was thinking more along the lines of being denied the opportunity to host parties at their home, and go other people's parties, and other such fun things that she wanted to do. She so often missed out on those opportunities, and it didn't seem fair at all.

"I suspect that we have all experienced similar disappointments, though maybe not about the same things." Iuldir mentioned thoughtfully, speaking up after staying quiet to let the noblegirls speak. He didn't know much about the girls, of course, especially not the Dimaethor and Talven ones, but he knew himself, Caeleb, and Toby each had things like that they'd had to go through. Disappointments were no fun. And he had seen enough of the lives of noblepeople to make a guess that it was not all fun and freedom, and doing whatever you want just because you can.

As the group moved toward the grassy place and began laying down blankets and setting their baskets down on the grass, Iuldir hesitated about where to place himself. Lady Azraindil had suggested they all sit in a circle, which was fine, but.. should he remain beside Dina? Or could he now veer over to sit by his friends, instead of the girls? And what sort of games did she mean?

He offered a small smile and nod in reply to Merry's words of condolence, and the smile grew when he shook his hand. "Yes, it is nice most of the time. I like my sister, even if she gets a little annoying sometimes." He answered with a little laugh. "I guess if your niece is not too far off from your age, it could be about the same difference as her being like a little sister," He decided. "Especially if you see her all the time."


Glancing around after hearing Ruberon's inquiry, Caeleb found that he could not quite turn enough to get a look back toward the stands. He hesitated. "One moment," He requested quietly, then looked toward where the others were preparing to sit down. "Dina?" He called softly to get his cousin's attention.

She glanced over, then came to see what he needed.

"Can Mother still see us?" He asked with some worry in his tone.

Dina looked back the way they had come, taking a long, careful scan in the direction of the seating areas. She knew her aunt had not left the stands, and she had last seen her chatting with one of the other ladies there. But they were too far away, with too many things in the way, for the lady to see them now. "No, she can't." She assured Caeleb.

He smiled in relief, and looked up at Ruberon. "Then yes, I'd like to sit on the ground with the others, please!" He declared, glad that his mother would not have to know.

Dina held back a little laugh, understanding exactly why he had asked about that. She would have likely said the ground was too cold and hard and damp for him to be sitting on it, and who knows what else. "Thank you," She felt obliged to say to the servant who had been so helpful and kind to Caeleb. "He can sit here, on the other side of Iuldir?" She suggested.

The rest of the group had already begun to choose their seats, and after seeing where Meressel had chosen to sit, the older girl thought it best to put herself beside her, with Iuldir on her other side, and that left enough space on his other side for Caeleb to join them there. So that Meressel wouldn't have to be troubled by her brother's company.. too much.

After taking her own spot, Dina smiled over at Merry at his confession that he had never had a picnic. "Isn't it fun, though?" She asked, trying to encourage the youngest member of their party to enjoy himself. She was tempted to invite the servant to join them, but decided that perhaps it was not her place to do so, and so she bit her lip lightly and kept quiet.


Meressel had to take a moment to ensure that the ground was not wet, and that the blanket would shield her from any bugs that might be crawling about on the ground, before she took a seat. Sitting on the ground was not really something she did, generally, but she went along with it for the sake of the picnic. "Oh, Dina!" She looked over at her cousin as an idea struck her. "When we return to the city, we shall have to make a trip to go and see that art gallery!" Meressel smiled at the idea of some excuse to get out of the house and do something different for a change.

"That would be lovely," Dina agreed with a little smile. "Dulinneth, our new friend here was telling us that his family owns an art gallery, in Dol Amroth." She mentioned, now that Toby and Dulinneth had drawn nearer and could hear about it as well.


"Oh, really?" Linn asked, quite curious about this as she looked at Merry. "I would enjoy hearing more about that. I very much enjoy art!" She confessed with a smile. "I was just telling Toby about some of the paintings I've done, in fact." She added, nodding toward Toby, seated next to her. She hoped Azrain would choose to sit on her other side. Meanwhile, the basket she had been asked to guard was held protectively in front of her.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Having a picnic, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Despite her attempts at organization, they were still children some of them, and their attentions were easily distracted even as they came to their meadow and picnic spot. Azraindil remained standing to the last, like a good hostess, wanting to ensure everyone was comfortable and seated before she even began to think about herself. She did stand near to Dulinneth, hoping to get her spot next to her best friend, watching as the others took their seats.

Trevadir agreed to her requests and should have an answer for Azraindil after the next match. ”Between Lord Macardil Himhathol and the Pelargir knight Rûthon, yes? Do you have a favourite?” She inquired of Trevadir, wondering if he had thoughts about it. ”I hope it’s not as violent as my brother’s match. I should check up on him… But, you know, you seem like you could be competing in another year or two. We’d come and cheer for you, if you did.” She beamed towards Trevadir. He really was gallant to her, helping out with all the preparation work and answering her queries, dealing with her nonsense, all very patiently. He was a good man.

The others were mostly seated by now, with Ruberon asking if he might render assistance too, since Caeleb seemed comfortable, even wishing to sit upon the grass with them! He was helped in that and Azraindil looked towards the elderly Ruberon. ”No, no, no, you sit, eat and picnic with us!” She offered the man, though he was also welcome to stay back a bit too, since sitting with a bunch of youngsters not even half his age might be awkward or out of place for him. But here, there were no titles, fealty or services. They were all friends, of equal standing, having a meal together under the swift morning sun. She watched them all with a smile. Dina, Iuldir and Caeleb together. Meressel worrying about bugs and getting herself dirty. Merry sat next to her. Tobedir next to Dulinneth. Trevadir helping to straighten out the picnic blanket.

Well technically, Lord Emeredir outranked them all. So Azraindil was doubly sure to make sure he was comfortable and well too. When everyone was seated, Azraindil still didn’t take her seat, going to one of the baskets and pulling out various ceramic goblets. She herself would distribute one each to all of the picnickers, before asking what they wished to drink, water or juice, which Azraindil herself would pour, going around the circle, while everyone chatted and mingled. About art, about the competitions, about…lost parents. She started with Merry first. ”Water or juice, Sir?” Azraindil smiled at him, walking around the outside of the circle as she took requests and grabbed the appropriate flagon or jug, and poured each cup as per each person’s desires.

And encouraged others to open the food baskets and get started in serving themselves. Except for the dessert basket she charged Dunlinneth with guarding.

”Actually,” she chimed in, standing opposite outside the circle, in her circuit to pour drinks, when Dulinneth mentioned the Art Gallery of Dol Amroth to Merry, ”after the joust, maybe we can take a ship and sail there, have ourselves a tour of the Gallery? I’ve been there once, long ago, and remember little, except that it was grandiose and myriad. If everyone could ask their parents, we could take a ship there, or go in one big wagon along the road. It’s only a day journey there.” She suggested to the group at large, though this would probably happen in a week’s time from now.

After they had supped and drank, Azraindil would signal Dulinneth to reveal the dessert basket, and distribute it out equally to those who still had room for more food. ”We ought to be going back soon.” Azraindil noted, seeing that the Sun was drawing closer to it’s zenith, indicating that the joust would be resuming as the day drew closer to the noon hour. ”Trevadir, you are welcome to join us in our box, if you like. We’re right up front, in the middle.” She offered to the elder of the two brothers, and of course, everyone there was welcome to her section of the stands if they wished it.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

"Lord Ansellidus"
In the upper row of the box

Sea-green eyes watched all of the proceedings, much more intently than they would appear to be. While refreshments were offered to those seated in the boxes for the nobility, he smiled and selected what seemed good to him, but all the while he was watching the group set out for the vendors stalls. He was only a couple of years older than the eldest member of that group, but he preferred to consider himself older and more mature than those silly children. He had far bigger ambitions than they could dream of.

Eventually, they had disappeared from view, but he was still keeping an eye out for their return while he sipped on a glass of cool drink that had been brought. His attention was diverted when the Azrubel squire made an appearance, along with Lord Dimaethor's son. While Mar did not give any indication that he was paying undue attention to what was spoken between them, he most certainly was.

As Anardil and Abrazimir made their exit, Mar's attention was called toward the older lord, who immediately questioned why he was not competing. Mar had expected some question as to why he was late, but not that. He reacted without missing a beat, however, and bowed. "Greetings, Lord," He smiled, though it faded just the right amount when the matter of Baradaer was brought up. "Ah.. my sincerest apologies for that," He replied with a sigh. "I assure you, I was highly displeased.. appalled, in fact.. to learn of the man's actions during the competition, upon my arrival yesterday. And I further assure you that he will never repeat such dishonorable behavior." He informed Zainaben. "In fact, he has been severely reprimanded, and will not return to your land as long as either of us live. You have my solemn vow, on that." He assured Lord Dimaethor, keeping a very solemn expression on his face as he said it.

In fact, the man would likely never been seen anywhere in Gondor, again. He was, at the moment, stashed in the brig of a certain ship that Mar along knew the location of. But he wasn't about to say that aloud. He kept his amusement locked securely away in some deep dark place in his mind.

"As to myself competing," He gave an apologetic, perhaps even regretful, smile here. Although he wanted to roll his eyes, considering the fact that he'd never had any chance to learn how to handle a lance and wouldn't know all the rules and codes of conduct for a joust. And he did not like to lose.. at anything. He went on, "I must offer my apologies, yet again, lord Dimaethor. While I am very grateful to you for your very generous offer, to allow me a chance to participate in your most excellent competition," He let out a rueful sigh, "at the moment, well... I'm afraid I would not be able to do it justice. You see, I can barely even hold a dinner knife right now, let alone a lance." He explained with a hint of frustration seeping into his tone, as he dropped his voice just enough to seem as if he were embarrassed to admit such a thing.. yet, somehow still just loud enough to be heard by some of those nearest to them.

He considered adding on more explanation, but decided to stall there and see if that admission drew enough interest for the lord to ask for more information. Besides, taking a little pause here would give Mar just a moment longer to think through exactly how he wanted to word this, and would also give him some idea of what details would work best to accomplish what he wanted to do, right now.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
with the group of young folks. Intermission of the Joust - Day 2.

Merry was not really sure why knights not being the same age as Meressel was a matter of any concern. They were, all of those competing, old enough and not too old to do so. But the lady had inferred before that she did not understand the sport very well, so he chalked her remark up to some misunderstanding there. And since she had not asked for instruction, he would not very well correct her, since it did not seem as though anybody else might judge her for it anyway. She did not require his assistance or protection in this. And had clearly appreciated his hope to see some action injected into the otherwise dull dancing later.

“Oh, I could not tell you,” he replied, then recalling his lessons about modesty, to Dina, as she asked about his experience with archery. So, he realised, this must be the kinswoman of Caeleb who had once trained with a bow herself. “I have been instructed some, and although our master of arms informs me that I am satisfying his expectations, my brother reminds me often that I have not been learning yet for very long.” He wanted very much to ask if she was planning to compete herself, but Ruberon and Caeleb took his attention as the servant assisted the young lord out of his chair, and those nearest made room, so that one would not be set apart from the others.


Rube did catch Emeredir’s eye, as the more frail boy and his kinswoman betrayed a possible concern that ‘mother’ would disapprove. But the young lord only smiled, recognising his aide’s exercise in leniency. “As you will, my lord,” the servant let Caeleb know then, without hesitation, and nodded subtly once to indicate approval of his own young lord’s social ‘play’. The aide could not avoid a just as subtle glance toward the interactions between young Lady Azraindil and Dravedir’s eldest grandson. She was affording a lot of her attention in one direction, and while it might be because Trevedir was the eldest ‘boy’ within their group, the old man was old enough to remember what had come before. Best just be aware there.

“Thank you, my lady. The juice looks delightful,” Merry accepted the kind made offering from their hostess, even if Ruberon was the one to physically hand it from the one fair child to the other, so that neither noble had to reach at all. The servant had bowed respectfully to the young Lady’s benevolence, but had still made busy as he could; picking up things which were dropped, unfolding back the blankets which were caught up by small fidgeting feet, passing things back and forth, where his longer arms did not intrude in any way upon their interactions.

By now it had begun to dawn on Emeredir that this ‘picnic’ might be just the sort of ‘event’ which his cousin had been advised to organise by her parents, back on day one. And while it was no horse race, it was not at all unpleasant. “It is good fun,” he agreed with Dina. “It is difficult to think on disappointment when we are here under the sun with good food and nice friends, I suppose,” he voiced, thoughtfully. “So you are right,” he commended Iuldir with a grin. “A niece is better company than nothing.” Airelen might be allowed to do more than he, of whatever she wanted (which did irk him sometimes) but he was now more glad than ever to see what fun friends could have together. And these were other lords and ladies ! So it must be right and proper. Perhaps he and his niece would be allowed to practice ‘picnicing’ at home, if this was what people did in company.


“Do you get to the ocean city very often ?” he wondered, encouraging Dulinneth and Toby, to settle into the wider conversation, as they all settled into the fine culinary spread. “I expect there must be all sorts of exciting things to paint further inland,” he supposed. “More animals. And birds.” But it was Azraindil’s suggestion of them all taking a rather more adventurous excursion, which saw the little lord’s mouth drop in wonder.
“Oh, do you really think we might ?” he asked, almost forgetting himself in the excitement. Of course, she was elder than he, and must know better what would be permitted. “We could all take chariots like Caeleb’s, drawn by horses, and race down the dusty road !” he grinned, quite sure that there were ships and sea enough to admire once they might get to the destination.


Behind him, Ruberon coughed, ever so slightly, turning away to hide his amusement at the thought of such a sight. There was no real danger of it coming to pass of course, for he doubted any of the parents in question would ever sanction such a thing for children unless they were excessively supervised. Not in the city of their Prince !

“Would you like to take some water, Ruberon ?” his young lord asked, him, turning to see whether the man was well or just indicating he had made a mistake. With large grey eyes upon him, the servant waved away all worries.

“Thankyou, my lord,” he felt it would not be too much to enjoy that small allowance of their feast. “If you will forgive me, my lady.” Rube found that bowing at least helped him to recover somewhat without the children hopefully catching his expression. The servant soon straightened up afterwards, and was not alone in enjoying the rest of their fun, albeit even as an onlooker. The young lord seemed to be acclimitising nicely, the children were kind and polite, without exception. He paid particular attention though to the young hostess’s generosity toward the falconer’s grandson, particularly since young Lady Dimaethor’s talk of sailing prospects. It was not his place to say so, but the observant servant was glad that he had come along, all the same.

[Ercassie]

@Lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl, with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Behind the crowd. Intermission of the Joust – Day 2

“You find me not a stranger,” the lady observed, though she might have referred to the man’s ability to still recognise kin, or else to her own familiarity in enduring such injuries. And when Abrazimir declared he must keep ‘busy’, she nodded, understanding. Beyond there being much expected of him, always, and especially at such an event, there was ever the concern about keeping up appearances. Possibly then the knight felt even worse than he was claiming. She knew better than to press him on it, or betray his façade where anyone might see. Still she raised the hand which held her helm, and handed it to him quite pointedly. Both Isys’s hands were then freed to unsnag her hair properly from the where some was yet crowding, at the nape of her neck. She then left it for a moment longer than required, before she looked to retrieve the metal hood, with an arching wing of one dark brow.

“You see,” she repeated, accepting the man’s assurance then that he could manage. “And you hear. You know more of the world .. than most who stand at hand.” One hand ran down her unblemished breastplate, and paused to randomly tap immaculate fingernails about where her heart lay, hid beneath the cold steel. “I was prepared,” she admitted quietly to meet his lowered tone. As he remarked at her choice of wear. Not riding out for to meet the strike of a lance, yet still .. clothed for conflict. “Nights I have waited, expected, wondered,” Isys frowned, perhaps to be even confessing this. “I knew .. something .. I knew somehow that he was not .. done.” Isys set her grey eyes to meet his. “He is Arkadhur,” she clarified, perhaps needlessly. But as much to explain her concern as to confirm who they were speaking of.


“He took on the guise of a guard, and walked right in,” she sought to explain. “Gael knew him of course, stopped him in his tracks, and he shall find our current gaoler more difficult to escape than the last.” The promise was not lightly made, not clarified in any great detail. “But still he will not tell how he escaped the ‘Aearmahalma’, nor what happened to that vessel and all those folk of this realm who were about their duty aboard. He will not say why he is come, here .. now.” Isys lowered her head as though humbling herself before the smooth-barked tree. Her free hand braced against that strong sentinel, and she leant some small degree of pressure, as though expecting to walk right through.

“You know as well as I how selective he can prove, with his information. But I can not imagine that he has managed to be here alone,” she acknowledged, before raising grey eyes back to seek for more in the knight’s eyes. “What I must ask of you, cousin, is to be careful. If he came for Gael, for her ..... " the lady paused, and breathed. The motion carried right through her before she shook who knew what thought out of her head. "I know she is made safe," the lady affirmed. "Her husband would scarce leave their side regardless. If he came instead for you .. ” she placed a hand upon the man’s shoulder almost as though she was done with spoken words. But then brought grey eyes into play as she beseeched him to recall .. every .. meaning of her brief conclusion. “Your House needs you, sir.”

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Ercassie

The Youths

Trev couldn't help a glance toward Ruberon, and wondered if he felt as awkward and out of place among all of these young nobles, as he did. He remembered Ruberon as a friend of his grandfather's, both having grown up together and working for the Azrubel family as they did. However, Trev's attention was drawn back toward Lady Azraindil when she asked him which of the two competitors he favored. He could almost have laughed, but he refrained. Obviously, she did not know of his friendship with the former, and neither had she heard about the fight, the previous evening. Hopefully, not too many people had.

He smiled slightly, and halfway wondered if anyone else present shared Toggornir's opinion of Macardil. But, whatever trouble may come of it, he wasn't going to lie. They'd probably all see him in Macardil's station later, if they bothered looking over there, anyway. "Oh yes," he answered without hesitation to the lady's question. "I will be cheering for M-Lord Himhathol, of course." He corrected himself swiftly to make sure he used the proper name among these other nobility types. And nodding, he agreed with her other comment, "I hope not, too. That was.. well, for your family's sake, I hope your brother is well, after his match." He wasn't quite sure what else to say about that, but thought it best not to comment too much on the topic.

When she mentioned that he was old enough that he could be competing soon, Trev glanced at her, his mouth partly opening to say something in reply to that, but then he recalled the reaction that her father had given when he and Toby told him that they would not be competing. He decided against telling her he had no intention of any such thing, and instead gave a small nod and went quiet for a bit. He also decided it best not to mention that he had no great love of horses, and no intention of getting on one anytime soon.


While Trev kept quiet and tried not to call any further attention to himself in the midst of the others, they carried on their conversations easily enough. Dina smiled slightly at the young lord Azrubel. "You are very fortunate then, to have someone to teach you." She informed the young lord, holding back a sigh of wistfulness. Out of the girls, she had the most experience in that topic, and yet, she'd never had anyone to actually teach her the first thing about it. She had been roughly the same age as young Emeredir, when she last even touched a bow. And yet, it seemed that they were all going to have to rely on her distant memories in how to shoot, if the rest of them were going to learn at all.


At Merry's inquiry about the Ocean City, Toby shook his head. "Only once a year, usually." He replied, a bit regretfully. "Every year, I come to see my grandpa for a couple of weeks during the summer, and then I go on to Dol Amroth to visit with Iuldir for another week before returning home to Minas Tirith." he explained. "I think.. we're still doing that this year, right Trev?" He glanced at his brother, then at Iuldir, unsure about the plan.

"If no one involved has objections," Trev shrugged slightly, leaving that up to the others; particularly, Iuldir.

"That'd be great!" The latter declared. "I don't think my mother would have any problem with it. She never has, anyway. I'm sure we can work something out with traveling arrangements." He shrugged.


Meanwhile, Dulinneth also shook her head, waiting until Toby and Iuldir had finished speaking before she answered Merry's question, as well. "No, we rarely get down that way, unfortunately." She informed him apologetically. "I think we may have went there once, for a vacation at the beach, but that was so long ago, I hardly remember it. Aside from that, the furthest I've been away from home is here, in Lond Col. We come to visit Gaer every so often," She smiled at her friend briefly before turning back to the youngest member of their party. "I do so love painting scenes of the forest, and the animals, and birds.." She smiled softly. "though, I would love to see new places. I am hoping that maybe, now that I'm a little older, my mother will agree to let me attend more events like this, even further away." She explained. Always before, she had been left home with her governess to tend to her, while the other, older members of the family went off to balls and things without her.

When Azraindil suggested that they might all take a ship or carriage to go and visit Dol Amroth, and see the gallery, Dulinneth looked somewhat hopeful for a moment before reminding herself not to get her hopes up too high. Her parents would probably insist on her being escorted by her most annoying brother, and she did not think that would make the trip very much fun. But she tried not to give up hope entirely.


Trevadir glanced toward Azraindil, trying very hard not to look as alarmed as he felt about that idea. "I.. don't think I'd recommend using a ship.." He muttered, almost afraid to say so, but he also couldn't stand the idea of saying nothing and hearing later that something terrible had happened to them... but he also wasn't eager to have too many questions aimed his way.


Meressel, however, sighed and spoke up, without seeming to even hear Trev's comment. "I'm afraid my father wouldn't go for it, Gaer." She told her regretfully.

"Let alone our mother," Caeleb, for once, agreed with his sister, with disappointment clear in his voice.

"Yes. Our father insisted we use a carriage to travel here from Dol Amroth." Meressel added in explanation, rolling her eyes. "Apparently, he's heard far too many reports of ships being attacking along the coast, and he said he was unwilling to take such a chance with his family on board." She explained, shrugging, although she was rather unconvinced that there was any real danger. Why would they attack a vessel of passengers, which was obviously not a merchant ship, after all? If there even were any such pirates. "And we'll be returning home the same way; extra slow, so there is no chance of wrecking the carriage," She added with a little sigh.

"Yes, it took far more than one day to get here," Iuldir put in, though he didn't make any further comment. But, when Merry suggested the idea of riding in 'chariots like Caeleb's, drawn by horses, and racing, Iuldir had to grin. "Now that would be lots of fun!" He declared, and already, his mind set to work on how they might actually accomplish such fun, even here at the joust, without getting caught or in any sort of trouble.


Suddenly reminded a great deal of himself, Nal, and Ryn, plus their two 'sisters', Trev bit his lip and turned his gaze downward at the food in an effort not to let on how greatly amused he was by that turn of the conversation. He was also immensely glad that the topic had moved on past the mention of pirates, and hoped that no one would revisit it.


The picnic went on, and soon, at Azraindil's bidding, Dulinneth brought out the best part; the dessert. They enjoyed the feast while it lasted, but eventually it drew to an end, and it was time to pack up all of the blankets and baskets and things, and head back to the stands for the second half of the day's main entertainment.

As the group started back at the end of their meal, Trevadir made sure to select one of the heavier baskets for himself to carry, packed full of the empty flagons, plates and whatever dishes had been used during their picnic. He was surprised to hear the lady's invitation for him to join them in her box. Though caught by surprise, he already knew how he would reply to it. Even if he had not already been invited to stay in Macardil's station, he would not really have felt very comfortable sitting up there with all the lords and ladies, especially not that close to Azraindil's father and brother, who would surely join them by the time the second match commenced. Thankfully, he already had a perfectly reasonable excuse to decline.

He dipped his head slightly in a polite bow to the lady as he walked, again acting as an escort to her, back to the stands. As if she actually needed escorting. "Thank you for the offer, that's very kind of you, m'lady." He answered, before adding, "However, I apologize that I must decline." He told her with a small shrug. He smiled faintly and continued, "As it happens, I have already been invited to watch the match elsewhere.. by my friend who I mentioned earlier." He explained with a slight shrug. "Since I have already accepted his invitation to watch from where he is, currently.. I think it would seem rude of me to accept another offer to sit elsewhere, would it not?" He left out that he actually much preferred watching from where he had been for the first match.

The stands were drawing nearer, and he figured as soon as he had seen the entire group back to their seats, he would return to where he had been during the first match. He figured he should have just enough time to get there before Macardil's match began.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion

Lady Silivren Himhathol
Joust: Day 2 - Intermission between the two matches

Silivren smiled knowingly at the Captain's response. "Indeed. The atmosphere in Minas Tirith is much different from how it tends to be in Belfalas," she agreed. Even within the circles of the nobility, it seemed that the Belfalasians enjoyed clinging to tradition and distance the most. "I understand what you mean, Captain. Yet do you not have to think of how you present yourself to your rangers all the time?" The question was born of genuine curiosity, and Silivren glanced at Karis. "You mentioned a history in leadership, Karis. What was your experience in that respect?"

Subtly but effectively, Silivren started them on their way back to the stands. There was still time, but she had no desire to hurry her steps if they dawdled overlong. Besides, her son would be up next. Against an opponent whom she had not been able to assess the day before. If Alator had still been here, Silivren would have admitted to him that she was nervous.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên of House Dimaethor
During the Intermission, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

The look on the old lord’s face was full of skepticism and scrutiny. It was always a chaotic thing, when Lords as young as this particular Ansellidus came into control of a lot of wealth and resources. Youthful and inexperienced men and women should never be given that much in so short a time. But what could the young man’s grand-uncle do, when he found himself without heirs or successors of his own line, but turn to this grand-nephew of his? The new Lord Ansellidus was certainly enjoying his position, flaunting his status and rank, daring to show up fashionably late at one of Lord Zâinabên’s events? Ridiculous.

He was not impressed by the offer of a solemn vow to properly punish this knight of his. ”You should have been here, early, so that you may learn from the example and trends of your colleagues. Then you could have been on top of this incident from the get-go. It is a poor showing of responsibility not to be on hand when there is a problem or issue arising within your own house, young Lord. And even more so when you let it spill out into the houses of others.” He sternly lectured the boy, though he hoped the Lord would take the lessons to heart and profit from it. Lord Ansellidus did indeed have too much too soon, for his age.

A spoiled boy. But what could really be done, if the young Lord cared not to heed the advice and wisdom of his elders? It was his name dragged through the mud by the actions of men like Baradaer. If Lord Ansellidus could live with it, fine.

”But what’s done is done.” Lord Zâinabên just waved his hand to dismiss the matter. Lord Ansellidus went into quite the preamble just to say he’s been suffering from some sort of…benign exhaustion. Lord Zâinabên’s brow furrowed even more, if such a thing was possible. He had heard many excuses before, but he wasn’t about to put the young Lord on blast. He so wanted to help the grand-nephew of one of his colleagues, from way back when, but the young man had to be willing to help himself first.

”So, you are ill then?” Lord Zâinabên inquired, in a display of concern, though his sea-grey eyes swept down and up on the younger man, who seemed embarrassed to discuss it further. What was even wrong with him? ”There are many skilled healers today, some direct from the White City. Perhaps I can introduce you to some, ensure that whatever it is that ails you, son, we can cure and mend. You are a young man, full of life and promise ahead of you, you should not be brought low by such things.” Lord Zâinabên offered, and put aside his own drink, as if he might rise to his feet right then and there and take the younger Lord Ansellidus direct to a healer himself. A great honour, one might even say.

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir of House Dimaethor
During the Intermission, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Wordlessly, without complaint, Abrazimir took the proffered helm from Isys and held it under his arm, as the other woman took a moment to free and adjust some of her raven-coloured hair, before asking for it back. It seemed to him that she was being coy about something, and no doubt with good measure, though the curiosity and anticipation of the reveal was eating away at Abrazimir’s mind more than his injury was. First, Anardil teased him with this grave information, now Isys was too. But, he held his tongue, and stood there, folding his hands behind his back in an attentive posture as he let his neighbour work it out. She was going to come…but something else drew her attentions elsewhere.

The return…of an old presence. Certainly not that of a friend. But a foe. A rival. A nuisance, of the most confounded kind. It was wise not to have shared this information so readily with Abrazimir, because the moment Isys spoke his name, he bristled and stirred. His hands came out from behind him to his sides, clenched into fists. And his lip twitched, almost baring his teeth in a snarl. He was here? And Anardil had said Lady Gaelanna had been taken by surprise at this presence and not in the good or pleasant way.

What in the Void was Arkadhur doing back here?

But when Isys said her family’s gaoler had him under control, Abrazimir visibly deflated. Well, not entirely. But at least he stopped clenching his teeth and let his hands spread back out from the fists they balled into. Isys was clearly discomforted by it. Same with Anardil. And who knew how the Lady Gaelanna was getting on with this revelation. She had put such a brave face on it too. Yes, Arkadhur was a slippery snake. He had all the enigma of a black cat in the moonless night. Last time, he had been willing to give up information to Abrazimir. Was Isys asking him to try? Maybe. Abrazimir was eager to try a different form of persuasion.

Forget the joust now. There was bigger fish to be snagged. Isys tried to guess at his intention, whether the damnable man was here to harass Gaelanna again or find a new target, like Abrazimir himself. He had no worries for himself. But the thought of Arkadhur trying to harm or disrupt his family or friends was fury inducing. ”My House and others, no doubt.” He finally answered Isys. ”I have no doubt that here, Lady Gaelanna is most protected. My father and all my people will not allow any danger to befall her. He would be a fool to try and target her here, where all our power and strength is gathered. He must be up to something else. Planting his…” he fixed his eyes on his cousin’s, ”dark seeds.” He said in a low whisper.

He stepped closer to Isys, to speak more privately, in a conspiratorial whisper, as if anyone might be trying to hear on their conversation. No one was around for a great berth but he would take no chances when the foes of Gondor were involved. And this one had plagued his people for a long time. They should settle it, once and for all. With a quick sword fall or lance strike. But that wasn’t the way of his people. ”We should go over there. Right now. See if we might…convince him to open up to us, why he returned here. He obviously cannot go back to his own abysmal home.” Abrazimir said at first, though he turned to look back towards the jousting grounds.

”He came in disguise, wearing the livery and gear of one of our own footmen? The audacity…how did he acquire it?” Abrazimir then asked, incredulous about the fact. No doubt in the livery and style of House Azrubêl soldiery but the differences between that and the men of House Dimaethor was miniscule. If Arkadhur could fake his way into their domain, who knows how many other agents might be at play. And his father had commissioned many new servants and outside help to assist with the tournament prep and operation. More than one spy might have slipped in.

He grabbed the hilt of his sword at his side, pulling it out an inch, before tucking it back in, as if to make sure there was no way it could get caught or snagged in it’s sheath. He was going to be ready. ”I want to see him, Ilisys. Right now if possible.” He said to her. He needed to get the full report, see it for his own eyes, hear it with his own ears, before he raised any sort of alarm or counter-insurgency scheme.

---

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Having a picnic, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Lady Azraindil had heard some of the whispers and gossips about Lord Himhathol. Something about being a kinslayer, the worst crime of all, turning one’s blade against one’s own countrymen. Doubly so, in times of war. But Azraindil understood that little, being so far and removed from such dangers. And the war was over anyways. And the Lord Himhathol was free to move about the Realm, which shouldn’t be so, if he was who they said he was. She chalked it up to malicious rumour mongering. The knight had a wife and a circle of friends. He must be honorable and true.

Though, her opposition to Trevadir’s support of the man was because, simply, Lord Himhathol if he prevailed would then face her own brother. ”It’s only a friendly competition, Trevadir.” She assured him with a smile and a touch on his shoulder, wanting him to feel at ease. The picnic proceeded peacefully and everyone got their full share it seemed, noble and commoner alike. It was a wonderful display of unity between the social classes and Azraindil hoped her parents might be pleased at her diplomatic tact.

Her suggestion for the group to visit Dol Amroth encountered some problems though. Trevadir thought they ought to not go by sea, despite Lond Côl being so close to the harbour of Dol Amroth and the centerpoint of Belfalas naval capacity. What could possibly go wrong? Meressel and Caeleb had their own overbearing parents to contend with. The conversation was quickly averted when Iuldir and Merry spoke of racing chariots instead, which had Azraindil pouting with disappointment. Not a single one seemed motivated to even try, already saying it was all a foregone conclusion. She looked at Dulinneth, who lived so close by too. You too, as well? Nothing more to be said on that idea.

They cleaned up, folded the blankets away, and stowed the excess utensils and plates in a basket, which would be taken to some washers who would cleanse and rinse them thoroughly, before returning them to rotation. Trevadir offered to take that one, while the other baskets were light and empty. Trevadir said he already was invited by someone to watch with them, so she wasn’t going to press, having imposed so much on the poor boy, who looked thoroughly confused at times in their presence. It was rather adorable, the doe-like expression she seen him with sometimes.

”It’s alright if you have other obligations. Thank you for joining us for the picnic.” Azraindil expressed her gratitude to Trevadir, as they returned to the tournament stands. She took the basket from him, intending to return it herself. She gestured for Dulinneth to do the same, as she wanted to talk to her best friend in private, and taking the baskets back to the vendors would be a great way to do it.

”You all take your seats, we’ll be back shortly.” Azraindil said to the boys and other girls, while she and Dulinneth could take a detour. They would be back in time before the joust resumed, she was sure of it. There was already a trickle of guests and spectators making their way back. Together, the two girls deposited the baskets and made their way back as well. ”So, Trevadir can’t help with the archery, but he said he could get us some pretty feathers, if we ever want to fletch.” She explained her discoveries to her companion. ”He also said he could introduce us to someone who could help us. I tried to bribe him with another picnic. Make sure you save space.” Azraindil wiggled her eyebrows playfully at Dulinneth, her hands on her own stomach.

”I feel so stuffed though, like a barrel of apples.” She jested and laughed as they finally returned to their seats some moments after the others had.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen @Lantaelen

The young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by Ruberon
with the group of young folks. Intermission of the Joust - Day 2.

“I am not sure that I have any say in the matter really,” Merry wasn’t sure if the young lady, Dina, did in fact know that. She seemed to think as though his learning archery was a fun thing that he had chosen to do. That having somebody to teach him was a privilege. “One day it will be expected for me to command our archers and infantry to protect Lond Côl,” he shared, rather quietly. “I can not do that very well if I had never picked up a bow for myself. And so they teach me.”

Quite what ‘they’ might teach a young lady, he could not have set a guess, although he thought back upon what Caeleb had said, that Dina could no longer remember how to manage archery any more. And that her uncle was not likely to help her to remember either. Merry was not sure whether his own cousin had been taught archery. It seemed likely. But then, she had been at that time the sole Azrubêl heir, and expected (at least for herself) that she must defend her people and her land, in the absence of any other from their House to manage it. But the young lord was not quite sure how things sat with the Lady Dina. It seemed like it might be rude to ask if she liked living with her cousins, let alone how that had come about. Maybe her own parents disapproved of young ladies and archery, even more than Meressel and Caeleb’s father did, and that was why she had been sent, to learn to be a lady from her cousin. In which case, it seemed unfair to talk about archery with her really. In case it should upset her. Yes, he should probably stop that. Upsetting young ladies would be ungentlemanly.


“It sounds to me as though the travelling there is what peoples’ parents would disapprove of,” he remarked quietly to Ruberon before the picnic was come to it’s end.

“Indeed my lord,” the man proudly agreed with the young nobleman's cognizance. “Perhaps if all were gathered in the city for another grand event, with their families already, then perhaps a visit to the gallery would be thought less daunting.” Having said his piece, technically in converse with his young lord, the servant knew he could no better propose such things, but he did feel it was a shame for such a group of friendly young people to find dismay in their dreams. And if any of the nobles decided to take up his line of thought, and go with it as their own plan, then he would have played his part. But he knew better than to overplay his hand. And so if it should come to nothing, he too must nurse his disappointment. That elegant city house would do well to be livened by the laughter and chatter of young people. All the city would, for that matter.


Dessert turned out to be Emeredir’s favourite part of the picnic, although he was already hungering for the second showing of the Joust. The young lord made sure to escort the Lady Meressel back, as they headed in that direction, for he could hardly abandon her, until the excursion was done and she safely returned to her seat. “Cousin, that was very fine,” he bowed, before the Lady Azraindil and then after a nod from his faithful retained, he dropped his little head before each of the young ladies in turn. “Ladies, an honour” he mumbled into his chin.

It was very hard not to outright run back to his seat and scan the scene for signs of when the second contest would begin. It was advantageous that he must wait for Rube to assist Caeleb first, and when it finally came time to find his own seat, Merry wore a smile for both what had lately been, and what would soon come next.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

"Lord Ansellidus"
In the upper row of the box

It took a bit of effort to keep the annoyance from being visible on his face, but Mar managed to maintain a calm, neutral expression throughout the lecturing/scolding of the elder lord. He had thought it was obvious, by what he said, that there must be some reason and explanation about to come forth, and yet the old guy had to go on his rant. Fortunately, Mar had some practice in this area.

He did not want anything to go amiss here, and so he made himself dip his head slightly in acknowledgement of the man's words. Yet inwardly, he was thinking dark thoughts. "Yes, indeed, lord Dimaethor. I agree wholeheartedly." He answered with a tone of regret, to the man's statement that he ought to have been here. But he'd had more important things to do at the time.. not that he was telling Dimaethor that. "In fact, I very much would have preferred to be here at the start of this thrilling event, but alas.. some things are beyond even my control." He said with an almost hint of wryness, wishing that were not the case.

He refrained from sighing as Dimaethor asked whether he was ill, but in such a way that it was almost.. mocking. Mar certainly recognized that sort of tone, as he did it often to his enemies. But they were supposed to be equals, and he did not like it at all. "Nay, sir, I am not ill, but injured." He tried not to lose his patience. It was very difficult. "The explanation for my lateness, as well as my injuries, go hand in hand, however.. if you will pardon that slight pun." He said with a faint smile, and continued on before there was a chance to interrupt him.

"You see, I sent my people here, a day or two ahead of me, to procure my lodgings and take care of all those details here. However.. as I was preparing to leave, myself.. I was on my way through the halls to go to my carriage when I encountered.. an intruder. Right in my own home!" He explained, widening his eyes slightly, as if he could still hardly believe it. "Apparently, this thief must have seen so many of my people leaving on a journey, and thought the place was less defended. Unfortunately, it was, in fact. Still, I was able to subdue this intruder, but not before he wounded my arm with his blade." He lifted his right arm slightly to indicate the wounded one. "It has been seen by a healer," he then added, as if seeking to assure Dimaethor and ease his mind on the matter.

"That, however, was not even the worst of it." He frowned as he continued his tale, twisted somewhat from the actual truth, but with enough grains of truth to make it believable. "This thief, for some reason, had brought a dog along with him. It seemed to be part wolf, and although it was a small sort, it was extremely vicious. It attacked my left arm while I was fighting with the intruder." He frowned and tugged up his sleeve enough to show the bandages and prove that he had, indeed, seen a healer by now. "So, if you feel that your healers could provide better treatment than those I have already seen, then please, by all means," He agreed to the man's apparent intention to take him to a healer, himself. If it was a bluff, then Mar had called it... now, would Dimaethor really go looking for a healer?

"Anyway," He went on, in conclusion, "what with having to deal with this would-be thief or whatever his intentions were.. then having to find a healer, and then having to ensure that my wife would be safe in my absence... for she is in no condition to travel, alas..." He sighed in a sorrowful manner. "That is why I was delayed, and I do apologize for any inconvenience that it may have caused you, but I would not leave my wife unguarded after that ordeal, and it did take some time to locate a suitable number of additional staff to ensure that the castle was well guarded." He concluded, hoping the elder lord would now feel guilty for having spoken to him in such a way. It would be pleasing, even if it was not adequate compensation for having to hear the irritating, scolding words.

---

The Youths

Emeredir's response about archery had surprised Dina, and she had not really been sure how to reply. She had nodded, thoughtful, and went quiet on the subject. It seemed somehow unfitting to explain that the girls of this particular group were so intrigued because they had been denied learning such things. She really didn't understand why, but it was somewhat frustrating.

The picnic eventually wrapped up, and the group of young folks returned to the stands, in the same sort of procession as they had left them. Caeleb had enjoyed being able to sit on the blanket, at the edge of the grass, and pretend, for a time, that he was the same as the others. But soon, he had to go back into his chair as they returned to the stands. At least he was still able to enjoy the company of Iuldir, Toby, and Merry, without his sister taking over Merry's attention.

Dulinneth, Meressel, and Dina each curtsied to the young gentlemen. "Thank you, it was a pleasure to have you for an escort, m'lord." Meressel replied with a smile. "I do hope to make a visit to the gallery, when we've returned to the city." She added, before making her way back to her previous seat with Dina in tow.

"Thank you for telling us about the gallery! I also hope to have a chance to see it, someday soon. I'll ask my parents if we might make a trip to Dol Amroth before the end of the year." Dulinneth added, smiling as she also curtsied properly to the young lord. Her hopes were not all in seeing the gallery, but also in having some of her paintings there.

After helping Gaer collect the baskets from the others, Dulinneth followed Gaer, glad for a chance to speak with her alone at last. Even if it was just for a few moments. She lightly swung one of the baskets containing empty plates as she walked along, listening as Gaer explained about Trevadir. "Ooh, pretty feathers," She smiled. "We could use them for other things too, like.. I don't know, put them in our hair." She giggled softly at the idea, and grinned when Gaer suggested saving some room for another picnic. She laughed lightly. "Now you tell me!" She was interested at the thought of another picnic, though. "Maybe that could be for another day?" She suggested hopefully.


After they had gotten rid of the baskets and things, and were on their way back, she paused and took Gaer's arm lightly. "I needed to ask you something," She lowered her voice a bit. "About that ring?" She reminded her friend of the fact she had wanted to speak to her privately about that. "I.. well I want to know, did your brother say where he found it?" She asked, trying not to look too anxious, but she was eager to know the answer to that.

---

|
Trevadir | Toggornir

As everyone arrived back at the stands, Trev nodded his head slightly in answer to the young lady's expressed gratitude. He wasn't really sure why she felt the need to thank him for joining them, as he hadn't really contributed much, and in fact, he had felt rather out of place among them all. But whatever. "Thank you, for hosting the picnic, m'lady." He answered as politely as he could think of to say. In fact, it had saved him from having to buy food for everyone around Toby, as he'd made his offer to get food for the others a little bit too open without meaning to.

As she claimed the basket back from him, he gave it up willingly. He had no desire to carry it around all day, after all. Especially since they were done with it now. In fact, if he had realized that she planned on taking it back to the vendors, he would have suggested that they drop them off when they passed by that way, before getting this far. But he hadn't known.

"Farewell. Perhaps I will see you at the falconry tent, later." He smiled faintly before stepping aside, to let her go off with her young friend. Not knowing what her plans were for the baskets, he was a little puzzled to see her heading back the way they had come, but he shrugged to himself. He glanced toward Toby and let out a slow breath of relief that the picnic thing had gone well enough. He had worried a lot about it, though Toby didn't seem to be aware of any reason to be nervous. "I'll see you later, Toby." Trev waved to his brother, but since Toby and his friends were already starting to chat among themselves about the upcoming joust match, the younger Thormaetha only spared a moment to wave at his brother before returning to what he was saying to Iuldir, speaking excitedly about what they hoped from this match.

Trev wasn't terribly bothered, however. Toby hardly ever got to visit with his friends, so he didn't begrudge him that. He took a moment to think, glancing around as he debated what to do now. After a moment, he turned and set out for where he had begun; Macardil's station. But, along the way, he decided that he would go by the vendor stalls to get some drinks to bring back with him. He wasn't sure whether Ruthor had any water on hand.. most likely, but it wouldn't hurt to have extra drinks available. It seemed to be getting hotter, after all, and it never hurt to stay plenty hydrated. He could only imagine how hot it must be in that suit of armor.

He was nearly to the vendor where they had gotten their drinks, when a regretfully familiar face suddenly blocked his path, and practically pushed him into the space between two tents selling food. Tensing, Trev frowned and eyed the young Talven fellow warily, unsure of what he had in mind, but preparing himself for just about anything.

"What do you think you're doing?" Toggornir demanded, scowling at Trev, keeping his voice down a bit.

Raising an eyebrow slightly, Trev shifted his weight slightly, subtly preparing for a potential fight. It seemed he was not going to be permitted to go on his way unchallenged. "I could ask you the same," He remarked pointedly, with a quick glance about their surroundings.

"No, I mean.. what are you doing with the young ladies you were with a moment ago." Togg huffed, annoyed at having to explain his meaning more fully. "Miss Dimaethor, in particular." He added suspiciously.

"I'm quite sure that's none of your business." Trevadir replied coolly.

"It is my business," Togg disagreed, his frown deepening. "I saw you just now, walking arm and arm with her. Tagging along with her and the others.. acting as if you think you're one of us? And now.. what, you're following her?" He stepped nearer, eyes narrowing. "Consider this a warning; stay away from her."

Trev folded his arms, giving Togg the most unimpressed expression he could muster. In fact, he had not really thought of himself as 'following' them at all, but merely going in the same direction, and he had set out plenty of time after them that he couldn't even see them through the crowd. "If you must know, she invited me to join them.. for a picnic." He rolled his eyes. "I don't see why that's any of your business, though. Or... wait, are you jealous she didn't invite you?" As hard as he tried not to, he couldn't help a little smirk at that.

Togg clenched his jaw a little and poked Trev in the chest. "Just keep away from her. There's a lot of nasty rumors that could start to circulate around here, and you could end up looking pretty bad." He warned. "I'm quite sure her father would not like it if he heard that some.. peasant was making unwelcome and inappropriate advances toward his daughter, for example.."

Trev frowned in annoyance at being called a peasant, but stood unmoving, appearing unaffected by the jab to the chest. He almost couldn't believe this guy actually had the audacity to try and threaten him, and found his choice of threat very irritating. Because of course.. who would believe Trev over this guy? "Is that all?" He asked, in a tone usually reserved for his father.

"No.. actually, while we're discussing this," Togg took a glance around briefly before looking back at Trev. "I would also advise you not to breathe a word about.. last night."

Trev huffed with incredulity at this. "Really?" He asked, a little amazed that the guy seriously just brought that up. As if Trev were the one he needed to worry about talking about that? He was hoping no one would mention it, himself, but he wasn't going to tell him that.

"I mean it," Togg insisted. "Keep your mouth shut about that, alright?"

"Are you afraid someone will find out you were slandering one of your betters?" Trev asked with a tiny smile, pointedly using the term 'betters'. "Or.. perhaps you're more concerned about someone finding out you got beaten in a fight.. again." He suggested, fighting a grin. He somehow managed to keep it to only a small smile.

Togg took a slow breath in, fighting to keep his temper under control. "I was drunk, then." He retorted. "You won't find me so easy to defeat again, I can promise you that." He warned.

"Sure." Trev's tone easily suggested he found that highly doubtful but was only humoring the other guy. This did not improve Togg's mood.

"I mean it.. keep quiet about that entire incident, or you'll find things can get very unpleasant for you, otherwise."

"I've got some news for you," Trev imparted with mock regret. "There was an entire bar full of witnesses... so, if you don't want the tale getting out, then you'd better hope none of those people decides to tell the story." He shrugged in mock apology. "As for me, I've got nothing to gain from that story getting out, so you didn't even have to worry about that.." He narrowed his eyes. "Although, I will mention that asking nicely usually works a lot better with me than making demands and threatening me... Just saying." He said with a shrug, then unfolded his arms and glared at Togg, stepping just a bit closer with his hands closing into fists down by his sides. Togg was a bit taller, but Trev had no doubt that he was stronger, faster, and tougher. "Now that we've got all that settled... I recommend that you get out of my way, before I introduce your face to the ground."

Togg hesitated, aware that, while they were between a couple of tents and partially out of view of the general public, it wouldn't take much to bring them back into full view of the people passing through on their way to and from the vendor stalls. He recalled enough from the previous evening to know this guy was capable of doing exactly what he said, and he did not want to be thrown to the ground in front of all those people, especially if Azrain might be somewhere nearby. And yet, he didn't want to back down too easily, either. He eyed the other young man for a moment before giving him another reminder of the warning. "Just remember.. stay away from Azraindil, and keep quiet about the tavern." He repeated, and reluctantly stepped off to the side to let him by.

Trev smiled slowly. "Oh, I'll remember. You can be sure of that." He assured him, but with such a tone that would make Togg unsure if that was such a good thing after all. He moved past the other young man, while turning himself to keep facing him for a moment until he was out of reach.. just as a precaution. He kept that little smile on his face as he gave a brief nod in parting, as if to say 'see you around', then he slipped into the crowd. To be honest, Trevadir was anxious to get away from the other guy, and get lost in the midst of the crowd for a while. He really had not intended to make an enemy here, but it seemed that he had managed to do just that. Still, he wasn't about to let that guy intimidate him, though it made him angry to hear the sort of threats he was suggesting.

Feeling somewhat troubled, Trev was lost in thought as he pondered what to do about this situation which he had inadvertently found himself in. He was frowning slightly as he pushed his hat down further on his head, and continued on his way toward one of the vendors to get a pitcher of nice, cool lemonade to bring back.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên of House Dimaethor
During the Intermission, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

The young Lord seemed repentant, but Lord Dimaethor could detect a measure of youthful impatience and impertinence within the young man. He saw it in his children too. The demeanor that they knew more and better, because of their naïve perception that they themselves are invulnerable to hurt or misfortune. Yes, ignore my wisdom and advice, it isn’t as if I spent twice as many winters on this Middle-Earth than you.

His eyebrows were piqued though when Lord Ansellidus corrected Lord Dimaethor that he was injured. ”You have my pardon. Do tell.” He answered the remark dryly. He did not share the younger Lord’s smile, but listened patiently and with an empathetic ear as he was told a tale of a home invasion. Who would dare against a sitting, titled noble of the Realm? Apparently…a thief with a dog, of all things. Who took a dog to a robbery? A stupid move by a low criminal, but apparently Lord Ansellidus for all his nobility and standing could hardly have repelled that.

”In your own home, can you believe that? Outrageous.” He agreed, shaking his head in disbelief and crossing his arms. He thought this should be a perfect lesson in tardiness and decorum. You move with your people, not separate. Your power and authority stems from where you are, with who you have on hand, not because of your name or particular patch of dirt and earth you may own. ”A dog bite is no serious matter, my Lord. A basic healer may look at the marks and patch that up, but the dog of a criminal? You do not know what trough it may have fed from. My son, Abrazimir, he knows good healers, from the White City. He will take you to see some, wherever he might be.” Zâinabên spoke, with a measure of concern and decision for the younger Lord, who did not have any elder relatives left to look out for him in this fashion. But out of respect to who his grandfather was, Zâinabên would endeavour to try and teach Lord Ansellidus some proper ways of living. They only got one life in this Middle-Earth.

But a cursory glance around showed his son nowhere in sight, so that offer would have to be delayed in it’s taking up, regardless of one’s motivation or determination. He just waved his hand off, allowing the matter to be dropped for now, and Lord Ansellidus concluded his explanation. ”Hm.” He acknowledged curtly when Lord Ansellidus further explained the absence of his wife. ”Was she injured as well? I see no reason why she could not have been brought here. Such an occasion, amongst friends, other women of her age and status, would have been good for her. Yet you left her behind and you are here.” He mused in a quiet voice. Your priorities would have been more forgiving had you chosen to remain solely at her side instead of here.

”We should do something for her, to help the daughter of the House of Veranis feel more at ease and comfort. We should send her something, a gift and a token of our thoughts and consideration towards her. What do you suggest, Lord Ansellidus, that would bring a smile to your wife? Surely you know best in that regard,” Lord Zâinabên then offered, glancing around to others of the high seat to invite them in this gift and remembrance of what they all lost. Friends and fellow countrymen. The tragedy that befell the Veranis household had been devastating for the land and in this moment of prosperity and mirth, they should also remember to give back to others, the land too, the bounty in which they got to enjoy.

Now that the War was over, and there was a King again, they should follow His example, and seek out acts of healing and restoration. Surely Lord Ansellidus would not turn down such a kind gesture being offered for his sorrowful wife.

---

@Rillewen @ercassie

Lady Azraindil of House Dimaethor,
Returning to her seat, Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age

Cousin, that was very fine, ladies, an honour Lord Emeredir beckoned the two women, Azraindil and Dulinneth, before they separated. ”My pleasure, my Lord cousin. We’ll do this again sometime.” She answered back courteously to him, as he stepped aside to join the other young boys. Trevadir came next, to express his own gratitude. ”You’re welcome, Sir. Remember what we discussed and let me know if your friend would like to join us.” She reminded him of their other picnic plans.

Then, she and Dulinneth were alone. She shared her friend’s giggles about putting feathers in their hair. ”That would be nice.” She agreed, and leaned in closer to discuss the truth about the second picnic. ”Trevadir can’t help us with our archery problem. But he said he can introduce us to someone who might be able to. He’ll ask and then let me know. Then we’ll arrange…a second picnic.” She confided to Dulinneth. ”But let’s not tell the others until he’s come back and confirmed with me. No point in giving false hope.” She added in a quick aside for Dulinneth. Just keep it between them for now, until there were further developments.

They began walking away from the food vendor stalls after dropping the baskets and other clutter off, for washing and cleaning. It was then that Dulinneth brought up another topic, once so fierce at the forefront of her mind, now having been driven to the fringe by a whole new day of events and activities and happenings. The ring! Her brother had given it to her and what had he said? Find out who it belongs to and nothing else.

”I think he brought it back from Minas Tirith, during his latest visit there a short while back.” Azraindil said, not sure of all the details. There hadn’t been time to ask her brother for more details and what she was saying now was pieced together from what she knew of his movements. ”Does it mean anything to you? We can talk to him when we get back, since he’s not jousting again today.” She suggested to Dulinneth, not knowing that her brother had in fact left the grounds to speak with an unexpected arrival.

[Pele Alarion]

@Arnyn , @Karis Ziranphel


Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Joust - Day 2

"I surely do have to think of nearly each step or even every breath I take considering all the aspects of leading by example, and also representing the Rangers," Pele replied to Silivren's question. A hearty smile then settled in her eyes as she continued: "But there are times when I crave simply being, no strings attached. I suppose I should not have come to a place teeming with people and should have chosen forest instead if I really wanted to breathe easier and let down my hair, so to say. However, I do not regret this change in scenery; it is very refreshing in its own way."

It seemed that Silivren was guiding them back, and Pele let her gaze roam along the wares offered by traders occasionally again on the way back towards the stands. However, she was curious to hear if Karis would share any of her experiences; it was always good to catch glimpses of others' insights even if only it was a few words and mostly by the way of small talk and not in-depth conversation.

[Arnyn]

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Joust: Day 2 - Preparing for his match

It was almost time. He'd hydrated properly. The rest of his armour had bene donned. Duath was ready, waiting beyond the tent, her reins held by Ruthor. Macardil took a small pouch from the small table before stepping out to join his squire and his mare, to wait for the announcement that the match would begin.

@Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Lady Silivren Himhathol
Joust: Day 2

"Every step and every breath?" Silivren repeated questioningly. "That does not sound all that far off from the trappings in and around Dol Amroth," the matron noted, her tone dry but her eyes humorous - in case either Captain Alarion or Ziranphel were looking for it. Yet she could understand what the officer meant by saying it was an altogether different kind of experience to be here.

Leading the two other ladies back to the stands, Silivren sat down. It did not take long before Marion provided them with refreshments and confirmation that Lord Himhathol was ready below. This drew Silivren's eyes to her son, whom she could see was waiting by Duath and Ruthor. She smiled, composed but proud. After the lovely display at the beginning of his match yesterday, as well as his excellent behaviour at the end of said match, she was curious to see what he would manage today.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

"Lord Ansellidus"
In the upper row of the box

He was glad to hear the older lord agreeing that it was outrageous. Nodding, he gave a little sigh. "Thank goodness I had not left yet, however. Who knows what may have happened if I had not been there to stop the intruder." He paused to listen as Zainaben suggested he have another healer look at it, and bowed his head slightly in gratitude. He reminded himself to act as his brother would act in this situation, and keep his own personality a bit more concealed. His annoyance had drawn it out of him, but he pushed that deep down and assumed a more respectful manner. "I would greatly appreciate that, my lord," He answered politely. "You are right, of course. I would rather not take a chance with such a thing." He was actually rather worried by the fact the bite had impacted the use of his arm so much. It seemed some muscle damage had occurred, and he was not sure how well it would heal.

At the suggestion of Abrazimir taking him to a healer, Mar glanced around slightly. "I am sure it can wait until he has returned," He assured the man. "After that match, it would probably not be amiss for a healer to glance at him, as well," He suggested, while they were on the topic. In reality, he did not care in the least about the guy being well. But his father may appreciate the expressed concern.

When Lord Dimaethor asked about Alyssa, Mar shook his head with an expression of relief. "No, thank the Valar, the intruder did not get near her." He assured his host, but then the question arose of why he had not brought her. Well, he couldn't really give the real reason, but he offered up an explanation readily enough. It seemed the man had missed the comment he made about her being in no condition to travel. "Ah, you had not heard?" He spoke with mild surprise. "She is expecting," He explained with a small smile, as he conveniently left it vague about what she might be expecting. She was probably expecting him to return to her at some point, and check on her, so it wasn't even really a lie. "I actually wanted to remain with her," He added with a little sigh. "But, she insisted that I must go, though she sends her regrets that she could not be here as well. She did not want you to get the idea that we simply weren't interested in coming to this.. quite the contrary. She has asked me to express her regrets that she could not come, herself."

The next moment, he was caught by surprise, not only to hear the other lord suggest a gift for his wife, but to hear her maiden name brought up. He managed not to show his feelings upon hearing that family name mentioned, and dipped his head again in apparent gratitude. "That is incredibly thoughtful and generous of you, my lord," He brought a hand up to lightly touch his heart, as if this suggestion had had an impact on him emotionally. "My wife will greatly appreciate the thought, regardless of what you choose to send to her." He was thinking while he spoke, and could not quite decide what would be best to ask for. "Alas, you have caught me off guard with your generous offer," He said at last, with a faint laugh. "Please, allow me a bit of time to think on it, and consider what Alyssa would appreciate the most?"

---

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth

A small nod confirmed that Dulinneth would wait on telling the others until Gaer was more sure about it. "I won't say a word." She promised, making a motion as if buttoning her lips, then grinned. "If that doesn't work.. well, we could always rely on Dina, and what she remembers," She mentioned. "Unless Lord Emeredir could help," She added thoughtfully. "He did mention having some training in archery.. though very little. Still." She shrugged. "Maybe he could tell us a few things?"

As the topic turned to that ring, while they started back for the stands, Dulinneth made no effort to hasten her steps. The longer they took getting back, the more time they'd have to discuss it, after all. So... he had found it in Minas Tirith? She bit her lip, thinking about that tidbit of information. She nodded slowly, thinking hard. "I don't know.." She added hesitantly to the suggestion of talking to Abrazimir. "I'm not sure of anything quite yet, and I don't want to say anything wrong, if that makes sense.. and I don't want to ask so many questions that people become too curious," She wasn't sure if that was quite the right way of explaining her reasons, but hopefully it was good enough.

"There's a lot of things I need to tell you," She said slowly, glancing at her friend thoughtfully. "But.. there's also a lot of things I can't tell you." She sighed with frustration. "I don't know. I need to think..." As she said it, another thing came to mind. "Oh, that reminds me. I have something else for you, but... could we meet later, after the jousting is done?" She asked, hoping to find a more private place to discuss this. "Perhaps at the stables.. we could go for a ride, maybe?" She looked hopeful. Perhaps they could tie that into their mission to acquire some archery equipment. There were too many people around right now, and too many chances that they could be overheard, she thought. Or that someone could be spying.

Just as that thought occurred to her, Dulinneth spotted her unpleasant brother working his way toward them, and she groaned softly. "He's coming over here.." She muttered to Gaer, with a little nod of her head toward where Togg was moving their way. "Let's hurry back to the stands, before he catches up," She suggested, suddenly no longer wanting to drag her feet about going back.