@Rillewen
The young
Lord Emeredir Azrubêl. Attended by
Ruberon
In the Stand with the other young boys, to watch the Joust - Day 2/Second Run.
had been already caught up in throes of anticipation about the joust. So
Toby’s assurance that he could also visit the birds of prey later .. saw the small boy almost fit to explode with excitement. Though he had managed – somehow – to hold to the manners which had been instilled in him, still there was a spirit about his young face now that his brother had never seen before in him. The little lord had gleefully acquainted his new friends with his kinfolk, proud to be able to prove to his brother that he had been ‘building alliances’, as the
Lady Eressild called it. Although the young lord was rather more fixated on sharing this thrilling social experience with peers, than with any lasting advantage which might be gleaned from the houses those peers heralded from.
Airelen had seemed to enjoy the company of the other children also, an equally rare opportunity for her. Promises to introduce the little girl to
Iuldir’s little sister at a later date though had been especially welcome.
But the joust had swiftly and rightfully stolen back all due attention. There was certainly no fear that the drama would dissolve with time. If anything, each new bout provided a fresh stream of entertainment. And the crowd delighted in booing for the agile but evasive knight as much as they were happy to cheer on his more gallant competitor. The battle for the right to face the Swan Knight,
Lord Abrazimir, upon the morrow should prove a mighty spectacle. And no less so, for the unexpected tragedy which threatened in the midst of it.
Rising to his feet,
Merry’s pale face fell a shade or two more toward cadaver-hue as his every sense caught the rush and shouts which rose out of the crowd. Though his niece was beyond sight, the valiant and timely efforts of
Lord Himhathol to limit damage done .. played out where none might miss it. The small boy all but fell back into his seat as
Lord Ruthon strove to master the alarm of his mighty horse, and his opponent took the brunt of the impetus .. proof (were any required) that this sport was certainly not for the faint of heart. The leaden drop of the discarded lance was so close to echo louder than seemed even possible, and
Emeredir clasped at the railing before him, until his knuckles lost all colour. But as their host
Lord Dimaethor made his way to manage the mayhem, the small boy sank back where he sat, releasing a breath that he had not been aware he had been holding. Accolades were spoken, approvals awarded, and it seemed as though no one were killed. Though by the stars, that had been a deft blow delivered ! And though the scene played out, as though a showpiece indeed before the crowd’s eyes, there was no doubt that all involved had been extremely lucky to survive.
In the silence that followed, in lieu of all that had happened, and might have done, the small boy put his hands together. For the heroes, for the preservation of life in the face of very real danger .. for the bravery and skill of all involved. And for their host, who had swiftly stepped in to oversee the proceedings in light of it all.
Merry may have been the first to put his thoughts into an applause, but he doubted he would be alone in doing so.
@Rillewen @Arnyn
Airelen, with her parents;
Lady Gaelanna of
House Estennin and
Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron, of Lond Côl.
No longer behind the railing ! Joust – Day 2/Second Run
The young girl had not possessed sense, or time perhaps, even to close her eyes, stunned by the reality of such a formidable force bearing down upon her. She did not register the screams, the shouting, anything but the prospect of her short life ending so soon after it had just begun. But when some unseen saviour bolted into her, and took her rolling with him, out of the direct path of the horse,
Airelen began to scream herself. The shrill cry rattled out of her throat as though it had become dislodged by the collision of
Trevadir crashing into her. It likely was the shock, for certainly the young man had spared her any real injury she might have suffered else. Still folded close against him, enveloped from all beyond them, the world that exploded into panic somewhere outside of the small cocoon was muted, muffled. Somehow even the small girl’s terror was soon drowned out by the tumultuous thud of the advancing warhorse. The haunting echo of the discarded lance. The shattering of a blow smashed to splinters. The collective horror of all who stood witness.
In the moment that her daughter slipped from her sight, and disappeared into a cloud of kicked up dust,
Gaelanna dropped herself into the grass, legs collapsing beneath the little weight of her, as though the devastation had been done unto her body rather than her heart. Her hands ran out before her, too far to reach anything that might help. Her initial retreat from the proximity of
Trevadir had not spared wide brown eyes from observing his move … towards her daughter !
Airelen ! In the same moment that she felt her fears abhorrently founded, the mother realised she had misjudged the young man’s intent. He was not stealing her child, he was .. saving her ! Still there was no relief from the alarm that rang through her mind like a relentless bell.
Warder saw his wife falter where she stood, and lunged forward almost to his knees to cradle
Gael’s flagging frame, even as the maelstrom sounded as a series of calamities behind him. That was the point in which the man received the first clue of what had occurred. Though he could not have imagined yet how it had come to be, and did not rightly believe even when he dared to turn and see what it rightly was. He had been about too many of these events to assume that had been but a standard pass. And glancing from his secured spouse, to find their daughter .. and in fact .. not find her … the moment struck him off centre himself.
Airelen was no longer gripping the railing. She was nowhere to be seen.
The Knights had meantime each braced off from their shuddering impact, with the blow that all had expected on their first run .. causing an outcry of protest on the second. Collecting himself, the squire sought to tend both to his wife and child all at once, and found the feat impossible.
Airelen though seemed to be surrounded, while those stood close by
Gael had backed off, as though the despair of the deflated, veiled woman was somehow contagious. Gingerly, her husband roused her, meeting a brief spark of objection, as the mother feared to find what had come of the traumatic series of events. Still holding back, she allowed though for he to lead her, and as the rail proved no more hurdle to the parents, than it had their child, both came somewhat tentatively into the sand-floored path to gauge the state of things.
Lord Zainaben had already been and gone from observing the young pair, his role in the proceedings calling for attention foremost upon maintaining the event, since nobody had been killed. But the one who had come closest, in the end, to having met his maker,
Lord Himhathol, was come, registering his concern for the cause of all the trouble.
That cause, the child, meanwhile had shown that she understood the young man,
Trevadir, had just spared her from most horrendous harm, and she sought not to be from him, if she could in any way help it. The small girl merely tucked her head in against her hero’s chest as he spoke to her, squeezing his form as tight as she could in both small but deceptively strong hands, and barely registered the concerns of the knight whom her actions had inadvertently injured.
“
Airelen.. ” In the end it was her mother’s voice which saw the child disentangle from the stunned young man and stagger to her feet, tripping over the hem of her golden dress so that she all but stumbled into
Gael’s outstretched arms. It had taken much for
Gael to take her feet the space of steps toward the reunion, almost as though she had not expected to find her same smiling child at the end of that path. But now, quite overcome by both the revelation that the girl was well, and by all that had preceded that shock, .. the woman was almost taken from her balance again as her daughter rushed from
Trevadir to
Gael.
Recovering decorum,
Warder left the show of affection to the two embracing women of his heart, although there was a chilled pulse running through him which he did not know would ever warm again. Every parent of course recognises that their small one could come to harm or injury, if the world were cruel. But to have it so almost occur, that was a new level of terror which all the poise and practice in the face of fell adversity had not prepared him for.
“
Trevadir Thôrmaetha ..” The squire extended his hand, to invite the young hero to stand with that support, even as a shake of disbelief took over the man’s head. “
One of these days we are going to meet without the threat of death to one or more at hand,” he remarked, astounded. And if the younger man had accepted the other’s hand at that point, to his feet, then he would find that hand shook most vehemently. Then clasped by the other hand for further demonstration of great thanks. “
That was the most reckless, stupid, brave .. thank you,” the man ducked his head into a grave nod and glanced behind him to where
Gael, now with her daughter caught up in both arms, was checking her over in concern. “
You just saved my daughter’s life, sir,” the acknowledgment was not given without due understanding. “
May we see you safe, and checked for harm yourself ?” he assumed that his cousin’s friend would not be unwilling to depart from the middle of everyone’s attention.
“
My Lord,”
Warder then attributed his attention toward
Macardil with a subtle bow, the fact of meeting first the youth before the noble .. a sure indication that things were not right or typical with him just now. “
Your actions also, .. made much difference,” he did not dare extend a hand toward the nobleman. “
Very much difference,” he managed to infer, as much as was proper to do so with all the world to see. “
I hope this does not impact adversely upon your competition, sir,” he made clear, without drawing due attention to the knight’s obvious injury. That would be bad form. Though the risk, the damage done, was not lost on him. “
We are entirely in your debt, both of you.”
Without words, the
Lady Gaelanna stepped in closer to the small gathering and nodded her approval and support of the admission. She could not curtsy with her child clinging so to her, a small dark head buried against her veil so that it was even pulled askew. And then as applause seemed to have risen out of the uproar, originating from the noble stand, though many in the common audience alike then joined after ..
Warder allowed for a thin line of a smile to escape him.
“
I am more than certain that is well owed, to you both,” he noted, and then ducked his chin in as dignified a manner as could any man, whose family had just disturbed the entire affair to which they had come to observe. “
You will allow for the attention of a physician, of course,” the squire expected, awaiting for
Trevadir at least to answer to the offer. For the knight undoubtedly had his own such staff at hand. His squire was certainly ready to assist, it seemed. But what the astoundingly heroic twosome would do next, .. the crowd all awaited to see.
@Lantaelen
Lady Ilisys Azrubêl, with
Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
Heading across the bridge to Castle Azrubêl. Joust – Day 2/Second Run
Oblivious to the events which they had narrowly missed out on,
Isys continued to accompany the knight on their way to hamper another prospective interference to the grand event. “
It has been perhaps too rare a thing of late,” the lady acknowledged of .. laughter, mirth .., and she stood not quite bitter in the recognition, but pensive at the very least. There had been such a feat of concerns for weeks now, months .. ever since six years ago if she were entirely honest. The source of the thing was not a matter easily forgot, considering all of the consequences.. “
And I would see such a state heartily improved upon,”
Isys smiled, fleetingly. They were going to resolve it, one way or the other. There was after all, a considerable faith in hope throughout Gondor these days.
“
The Lady Sirdis was delayed in attending at the start of your father’s grand showcase,” the woman reminded her kinsman when he asked who was guarding the prisoner. Not to suggest that her aunt by marriage was standing sentry. But to lead into the slightly less obvious explanation of who was. “
She had a guest still at the time, Hir Lindesul, of Lindon.”
Isys was not sure what
Abrazimir had heard about their Elvish visitor, so she watched for his reaction. “
His Uncle established the astronomy guild, out on the Wethrin Isles, the one which my Uncle was on course to visit, when his ship sank, some years hence. Hir Lindesul has been keeping us abreast of efforts to retrieve .. any thing which might be reclaimed from the deep.”
There was no cause to speak the word, .. ‘bodies’. There was certainly no want to associate her missing friends and relative with such a thought. For a moment the lady was cloaked in silence, until she felt it only fair to share all that she knew with the lord. He was involved. All the players ought be aware of one another. “
His folk believe that Matsu Halsad had a hand in my Lord Edhelmir’s ship going down, for the corsair had plagued the coast off Lindon for many years.”
Isys concluded her briefing, satisfied that
Abrazimir should be so informed. “
To that end, I ought mention," and here the lady lowered her voice, though there were none close enough to overhear her confide that, "
this is not the first Umbarian he has found cause to keep in enforced custody.”
Nobody of course had seen or heard tell of
Matsu Halsad since the War of the Ring. And it had been assumed that the ambitious corsair had met his fate, as had many of his ilk, at the hands of the Dead Army of Dunharrow. But that had not been the end of the man. He might have wished it had been though ..
Hir Lindesul of Lindon went by many names, as did most of the long-lived, language-loving Eldar. And the repute of some of those names, in the case of this particular Elf, would strike fear into even the heart of a cruel-minded Corsair of Umbar.
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