Falaneth
(with Strawberry) (@Rillewen )
They paused outside the row of private rooms that lined the wall and wrapped around the corner, some occupied with doors firmly closed, and others waiting for the studious to fill them with quiet contemplation or intellectual discussion with others. Falaneth lowered her voice so as not to disturb other patrons, though the rooms were well-insulated for warmth and sound alike.
“I understand,” she replied. Sometimes finding the right place, a comfortable, safe one, was an important start to settling the mind and focusing wandering thoughts. The library was a kind of second home to Falaneth and even though she had spent so many hours here, it could still overwhelm her with the wealth of endless ideas and topics to choose from. Until her life had been disrupted, splintered into the before and after, and drew her mind toward the only subject that mattered anymore, haunting her to the point of brooding obsession.
“You may choose any room with an open door,” she told the boy patiently. “Food and beverages are strictly not allowed inside to keep things neat for the next patron and to protect our materials. If you need writing supplies, just ask, and I can lend you some. And if you need anything else, I’ll be here until the tenth bell tolls.”
Her duty done, Falaneth left the boy to choose his room and wade through the aisles in search of whatever took his interest today. By the time the tenth bell rang to signal the end of her day, what little energy she had was flagging and she forgot all about the boy and the room. Trailing down the stairs to make her way home, a tall man dressed all in black passed her on his way inside...
---
Hathaldir
(meeting Strawberry)
Hathaldir gazed up at the majestic building with disdain as if it was his nemesis. He hated this stifled place more than he hated the city itself. It felt akin to walking into a mausoleum, all stone and dead things, dust and decay, sheltered from the sky by a roof and walls. A glimpse of a dark-haired young woman caught the corner of his eye as he climbed the steps. He paused to watch her retreat and wondered. Was it her? He wanted to follow her and find out.
The clang of the bell rang the hour. He would be late, and miss a valuable opportunity, if he chased after her. Grinding his teeth, he turned his back on her fading form and entered the dull space. Even without his sword at his side, the man did not look like he belonged here. The wildness in him ran too deep, his muscles taught and tense, ready for a fight at any moment, to spring into action. The mind reigned here where thoughts and words could be used like blades to one who knew how. The hilt of a knife dug into his ribs from where it was tucked beneath his coat. It was all the weapon he needed besides his own fists. They came to talk but if the girl betrayed him or wanted to fight again, he would be ready. No bloody noses this time.
He paced down the aisles, impatient and harried, like a wild beast caught in a trap. He pulled an armful of books from a shelf at random and made his way to a private room. To anyone who was looking, he might at least give the appearance of studying. In his arrogance and pride, he didn’t bother looking for the girl. Let her come to him.
Before closing the door, he hung a hat from the handle. One not unlike the one she had lost, burned in the blaze of the blacksmith’s shop. A sign for her. From beneath his coat, his palm grazed over the knife and retrieved a flask. One swallow of whiskey was not enough to fortify himself for what was to come but it would have to do for now.
The Library, the Journal and the Old Man
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@Lailyn
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
It was a great relief that the librarian didn’t question her on the matter. Strawberry nodded as she explained about the rooms. “Alright,” She tried to pretend to be interested, but she wished the woman would just go on her way now, fearing that she might actually just stick around to help her find a book to study or something like that. It was with great relief, then, when the librarian told her about not bringing food or drinks in, and then went to leave. “Thank you,” she said, watching her walk away.
She watched a moment to be sure that she was gone, then went along the row of doors, glancing into each one that had an open door. Those with closed doors.. she took a cautious peek in by cracking the door a little bit. Luckily, none of them made any noise, and the occupants seemed engrossed in whatever books they were staring at, and Strawberry moved on to the next room. He wasn’t here yet, thankfully.
She took a little while to examine the area, and discovered that if she stood at one end, she could see all of the doors rather well. She hung around there, pretending to be looking at the books on the shelf there, but keeping an eye on the doors.
It was some time later before he finally showed up. A few times, she had a false alarm, and she would duck back behind the shelf a little, out of sight, and watch to see who the person was who had appeared. But when he finally did come, she recognized him, and watched through a gap in the shelf of books (which she had created there for that very purpose) until she saw which room he went into. He hung something on the doorknob, probably meant to be a signal to her.
So the crooked guard was there, at last. Strawberry stayed right where she was, watching and waiting. Just in case. She put the books back on the shelf, though she didn’t realize that she’d put them back in the wrong order. Though she took her time in doing so, she moved a little closer. She had heard the tolling of the bell to mark the hour, and knew it was the time she was supposed to be meeting him. The man was expecting her in there any moment. He could wait a little longer. She watched, positioning herself so she could see down a few aisles, but no one else seemed to be coming.
There was no way of knowing for sure how long she must have waited, and kept him waiting. She had to be sure it wasn’t a trap or something… the moment he’d suggested meeting here, she’d had a concern that he might tell the other guards to show up a few minutes after they were to meet, and catch her. But after at least fifteen minutes, it seemed that no other guards were going to show up, and she decided she’d better go ahead and meet the man. He was bound to be annoyed by her being late, but she didn’t really care.
It could be a trap, or it might not be. Deciding she might as well take another risk, she went to the door with the hat, taking a deep breath, mentally checking where she had her weapons hidden. Nodding to herself, she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her, and waited for him to express the irritation he was probably feeling toward her for making him wait so long.
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
It was a great relief that the librarian didn’t question her on the matter. Strawberry nodded as she explained about the rooms. “Alright,” She tried to pretend to be interested, but she wished the woman would just go on her way now, fearing that she might actually just stick around to help her find a book to study or something like that. It was with great relief, then, when the librarian told her about not bringing food or drinks in, and then went to leave. “Thank you,” she said, watching her walk away.
She watched a moment to be sure that she was gone, then went along the row of doors, glancing into each one that had an open door. Those with closed doors.. she took a cautious peek in by cracking the door a little bit. Luckily, none of them made any noise, and the occupants seemed engrossed in whatever books they were staring at, and Strawberry moved on to the next room. He wasn’t here yet, thankfully.
She took a little while to examine the area, and discovered that if she stood at one end, she could see all of the doors rather well. She hung around there, pretending to be looking at the books on the shelf there, but keeping an eye on the doors.
It was some time later before he finally showed up. A few times, she had a false alarm, and she would duck back behind the shelf a little, out of sight, and watch to see who the person was who had appeared. But when he finally did come, she recognized him, and watched through a gap in the shelf of books (which she had created there for that very purpose) until she saw which room he went into. He hung something on the doorknob, probably meant to be a signal to her.
So the crooked guard was there, at last. Strawberry stayed right where she was, watching and waiting. Just in case. She put the books back on the shelf, though she didn’t realize that she’d put them back in the wrong order. Though she took her time in doing so, she moved a little closer. She had heard the tolling of the bell to mark the hour, and knew it was the time she was supposed to be meeting him. The man was expecting her in there any moment. He could wait a little longer. She watched, positioning herself so she could see down a few aisles, but no one else seemed to be coming.
There was no way of knowing for sure how long she must have waited, and kept him waiting. She had to be sure it wasn’t a trap or something… the moment he’d suggested meeting here, she’d had a concern that he might tell the other guards to show up a few minutes after they were to meet, and catch her. But after at least fifteen minutes, it seemed that no other guards were going to show up, and she decided she’d better go ahead and meet the man. He was bound to be annoyed by her being late, but she didn’t really care.
It could be a trap, or it might not be. Deciding she might as well take another risk, she went to the door with the hat, taking a deep breath, mentally checking where she had her weapons hidden. Nodding to herself, she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her, and waited for him to express the irritation he was probably feeling toward her for making him wait so long.
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Hathaldir with Strawberry @Rillewen
The black coat wrapped around his broad shoulders felt more right and true than his uniform ever had, if anything about him could ever be true again. The cloak had shielded him from unfriendly eyes the night before as he scoured the city for posters of the girl, tearing them down wherever he ran across them. It had felt like freedom to shed his pressed, neat uniform and become a shadow with the freewill to focus on his task. To put Hathaldir the guard away and be Renhir once more, though not quite a Ranger and never to be one again, he moved with the silence and stealth of one long-suited to the job.
Silence replaced the bell’s chiming of the hour and he stared at the door, willing it to open and reveal his unlikely accomplice. She did not come. Hathaldir swallowed more whiskey. She did not come. He was accustomed to waiting, training himself to be patient and quiet, but that did not mean that he liked it. He opened a book but did not peruse the contents. And another and another, until there was a spread of opened books laying on the table much as he expected a scholar’s desk would appear. Still, silence. Still, the door did not budge.
Hathaldir had not once considered whether or not she would arrive. To him, it was a sure thing. They had made a deal. One she could not possibly refuse if she were smart. And she was smart…well, smart enough. That certainty disintegrated the moment she slipped inside the room and he saw her come in, a wisp of hair visible that was still as red as the dying sun at day’s end.
His jaw ground against itself. “You did not change your hair. Do you want to go to gaol? Did I take your posters down for nothing?”
Throwing her a dark look, he reached into his breast pocket with all the ominous show of drawing a weapon…and withdrew a stack of papers. The jagged edges fluttered in the air as he whisked them over and slammed them down on the table. The girl’s face, or its recognizable likeness at least, and a laundry list of crimes stared up at them from the table. “I held up my end of our bargain so far.” He pressed his fist against the stack. “I expect you to do the same. Based on this list,” he scanned a finger across the words thievery, forgery, murder and treason, “you are clearly…highly capable at your job but if you get caught, you’ll be of no use to me and I will have no reason to help you clear your name. Are we both agreed that we do not want you to get caught? And are you certain you were not followed here tonight? Did anyone see you, anyone at all?”
The black coat wrapped around his broad shoulders felt more right and true than his uniform ever had, if anything about him could ever be true again. The cloak had shielded him from unfriendly eyes the night before as he scoured the city for posters of the girl, tearing them down wherever he ran across them. It had felt like freedom to shed his pressed, neat uniform and become a shadow with the freewill to focus on his task. To put Hathaldir the guard away and be Renhir once more, though not quite a Ranger and never to be one again, he moved with the silence and stealth of one long-suited to the job.
Silence replaced the bell’s chiming of the hour and he stared at the door, willing it to open and reveal his unlikely accomplice. She did not come. Hathaldir swallowed more whiskey. She did not come. He was accustomed to waiting, training himself to be patient and quiet, but that did not mean that he liked it. He opened a book but did not peruse the contents. And another and another, until there was a spread of opened books laying on the table much as he expected a scholar’s desk would appear. Still, silence. Still, the door did not budge.
Hathaldir had not once considered whether or not she would arrive. To him, it was a sure thing. They had made a deal. One she could not possibly refuse if she were smart. And she was smart…well, smart enough. That certainty disintegrated the moment she slipped inside the room and he saw her come in, a wisp of hair visible that was still as red as the dying sun at day’s end.
His jaw ground against itself. “You did not change your hair. Do you want to go to gaol? Did I take your posters down for nothing?”
Throwing her a dark look, he reached into his breast pocket with all the ominous show of drawing a weapon…and withdrew a stack of papers. The jagged edges fluttered in the air as he whisked them over and slammed them down on the table. The girl’s face, or its recognizable likeness at least, and a laundry list of crimes stared up at them from the table. “I held up my end of our bargain so far.” He pressed his fist against the stack. “I expect you to do the same. Based on this list,” he scanned a finger across the words thievery, forgery, murder and treason, “you are clearly…highly capable at your job but if you get caught, you’ll be of no use to me and I will have no reason to help you clear your name. Are we both agreed that we do not want you to get caught? And are you certain you were not followed here tonight? Did anyone see you, anyone at all?”
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@Falaneth
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
She had expected him to be annoyed, but the first words out of his mouth were certainly not what she had expected. She paused, blinking in surprise at that. "Change my hair?" She repeated, genuinely puzzled by that statement. Why would she.. how would she? She stared at him as he went off about how he'd taken her posters down and how she was likely to end up in gaol, which rather annoyed her. She'd managed to evade capture this far, without any help. Watching impassively as he threw his little tantrum and slammed his fist on the stack of posters, she merely folded her arms and waited until he was through before pointing out, "I don't think changing my hair is going to make much difference," She rolled her eyes, "since I keep it tucked up where people can't really see it, when I'm in town." She brushed a hand up to find the loose wisp that he must have spotted, and tucked it back under her hat. "It's my face that's more in danger of being recognized," She frowned, wondering how long it would take him to put more posters up.
"As for being followed," She leaned her side against the nearest wall with a vague smirk. "I was here hours ago." She had no idea if it was really 'hours' but it felt like hours, and it sounded good. "I saw you when you got here... I was busy watching to make sure you weren't followed... or that you hadn't invited any..company.. to join us after we were supposed to meet." She told him. "I don't really like walking into a trap, so I had to be sure it wasn't one. If you're annoyed about having to wait, well, too bad.. because I have no intention of being captured, in case you turned out to be trying to trick me." She remained where she was, leaned against the wall. Near enough to talk in a low enough voice, but not so near that he could simply reach out and grab her if he took a notion to.
"Now, what's this job?" She hoped to bring him to the point, so he might forget whatever else he intended to scold her about, as if she were some child who disobeyed. Really, the audacity. If it wasn't for the things he suggested he could do to help her... and the fact that her curiosity was piqued, she would be tempted to just walk away simply because of how he talked to her. Like she was nothing, or inferior. "You mentioned something about stealing something, right?" She asked bluntly. She had no cause to try and sugar-coat the matter, it was stealing no matter what angle he tried to give it. "Well, that's what I'm good at, so tell me about it."
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
She had expected him to be annoyed, but the first words out of his mouth were certainly not what she had expected. She paused, blinking in surprise at that. "Change my hair?" She repeated, genuinely puzzled by that statement. Why would she.. how would she? She stared at him as he went off about how he'd taken her posters down and how she was likely to end up in gaol, which rather annoyed her. She'd managed to evade capture this far, without any help. Watching impassively as he threw his little tantrum and slammed his fist on the stack of posters, she merely folded her arms and waited until he was through before pointing out, "I don't think changing my hair is going to make much difference," She rolled her eyes, "since I keep it tucked up where people can't really see it, when I'm in town." She brushed a hand up to find the loose wisp that he must have spotted, and tucked it back under her hat. "It's my face that's more in danger of being recognized," She frowned, wondering how long it would take him to put more posters up.
"As for being followed," She leaned her side against the nearest wall with a vague smirk. "I was here hours ago." She had no idea if it was really 'hours' but it felt like hours, and it sounded good. "I saw you when you got here... I was busy watching to make sure you weren't followed... or that you hadn't invited any..company.. to join us after we were supposed to meet." She told him. "I don't really like walking into a trap, so I had to be sure it wasn't one. If you're annoyed about having to wait, well, too bad.. because I have no intention of being captured, in case you turned out to be trying to trick me." She remained where she was, leaned against the wall. Near enough to talk in a low enough voice, but not so near that he could simply reach out and grab her if he took a notion to.
"Now, what's this job?" She hoped to bring him to the point, so he might forget whatever else he intended to scold her about, as if she were some child who disobeyed. Really, the audacity. If it wasn't for the things he suggested he could do to help her... and the fact that her curiosity was piqued, she would be tempted to just walk away simply because of how he talked to her. Like she was nothing, or inferior. "You mentioned something about stealing something, right?" She asked bluntly. She had no cause to try and sugar-coat the matter, it was stealing no matter what angle he tried to give it. "Well, that's what I'm good at, so tell me about it."
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Hathaldir with Strawberry (@Rillewen)
“You better keep it hidden or I’ll cut it off for you,” Hathaldir growled. He shifted his coat aside just so to expose the hilt of the knife hidden there to drive his threat deeper into this girl who was far too confident for her own good. “Your face can be changed, too.” Most of them were permanent. A wicked light sparked in his dark eyes, mirroring the grin that curled his lips. “But I doubt you’ll like my ideas for that, either.” He picked up a poster instead and tore it in half, allowing the pieces to flutter onto the table like broken wings of a butterfly.
An impatient breath escaped his nostrils as he listened to her recount her wondrously clever escapade in arriving here early. Hours early, according to her version of events. Was he supposed to be impressed? Any idiot would have done the same. Still, at least she was thorough. And clearly not an idiot despite her halfhearted disguise. His eyes glazed over with sheer boredom until she said something that drew an unusual reaction from the surly man.
Hathaldir laughed. He threw his head back and emitted a deep barking guffaw. “You think I would try to trick you? To what, catch you? What an elaborate plan that would be. No, no, no.” He pressed a finger to his lips and all traces of his amusement faded. He lowered his voice to a rumble. “I have better things to do with my time, my little thief. And you’re going to help me.”
He pulled out a chair, scraping it along the floor with a harsh screech, and sat. Propping his feet up on the table strewn with books lent him a casual appearance, as if he were merely speaking of something as mundane as the weather, not making someone complicit in a crime. “There is something kept under lock and key in an nigh-impenetrable fortress watched by many eyes. It’s only a small thing. A few slips of paper, nothing more.” And they could change a life even if it was one already lived. Hathaldir wanted justice and truth for the dead when he gave none to the living. He tilted his head toward the books on the table as if disinterested but his half-lidded eyes were locked on the girl. “I can help you get inside but that is as far as I can go. Once you’re in, you’re on your own. Steal the papers for me and get back out. It should be quite simple.” He drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for her answer.
“You better keep it hidden or I’ll cut it off for you,” Hathaldir growled. He shifted his coat aside just so to expose the hilt of the knife hidden there to drive his threat deeper into this girl who was far too confident for her own good. “Your face can be changed, too.” Most of them were permanent. A wicked light sparked in his dark eyes, mirroring the grin that curled his lips. “But I doubt you’ll like my ideas for that, either.” He picked up a poster instead and tore it in half, allowing the pieces to flutter onto the table like broken wings of a butterfly.
An impatient breath escaped his nostrils as he listened to her recount her wondrously clever escapade in arriving here early. Hours early, according to her version of events. Was he supposed to be impressed? Any idiot would have done the same. Still, at least she was thorough. And clearly not an idiot despite her halfhearted disguise. His eyes glazed over with sheer boredom until she said something that drew an unusual reaction from the surly man.
Hathaldir laughed. He threw his head back and emitted a deep barking guffaw. “You think I would try to trick you? To what, catch you? What an elaborate plan that would be. No, no, no.” He pressed a finger to his lips and all traces of his amusement faded. He lowered his voice to a rumble. “I have better things to do with my time, my little thief. And you’re going to help me.”
He pulled out a chair, scraping it along the floor with a harsh screech, and sat. Propping his feet up on the table strewn with books lent him a casual appearance, as if he were merely speaking of something as mundane as the weather, not making someone complicit in a crime. “There is something kept under lock and key in an nigh-impenetrable fortress watched by many eyes. It’s only a small thing. A few slips of paper, nothing more.” And they could change a life even if it was one already lived. Hathaldir wanted justice and truth for the dead when he gave none to the living. He tilted his head toward the books on the table as if disinterested but his half-lidded eyes were locked on the girl. “I can help you get inside but that is as far as I can go. Once you’re in, you’re on your own. Steal the papers for me and get back out. It should be quite simple.” He drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for her answer.
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@Falaneth
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
Anger boiled in her veins at the threat he made about 'disguising' her face. There was something else, too, which she couldn't, or wouldn't, identify. Perhaps a flicker of fear, but she pushed that far down deep where it couldn't be detected, either by him or even herself. There were a number of threats in retaliation to his comment which occurred to her. She came close to at least one retort back to him, but instead she refrained, with some effort, and reminded herself that it would accomplish very little. Probably nothing. Strawberry already despised the man, he had made it clear that he despised her. Now that they had that settled, there was little either of them could do or say to alter that mutual feeling of dislike either way.
Her arms remained folded as she frowned at his choice of words, however. 'My little thief'. She didn't like that. "I'm not your thief," She made clear to him firmly. "And I'll help you if I want to. You still haven't told me what this paper thing actually is, or what reason you want it for." She reminded him. "So far, all you've told me is that you want a few slips of paper, and they're very heavily guarded." She shrugged, thinking a moment. "That's interesting enough to make me curious, but not enough to make me decide if I want to do it." Nigh-impenetrable fortress? She had a few ideas on what he could mean by that... one idea being the palace or whatever was up on the seventh circle, but she didn't know exactly what was up there.
"The problem is, you aren't the only crooked guard in this city." She informed him, frowning as she took her hat off. Maybe he didn't know that. Maybe he did. She frowned, thinking for a moment. "There's another far more dangerous to me than you are, so if you're expecting me to break into a guard tower or something like that..." She paused, considering. "I'm going to need a lot of information." She glanced at him thoughtfully. "I agreed to meet here so you could tell me more about all this, so tell me everything, not just a few little things here and there." She frowned, having an irritating feeling that he was holding a lot of information back from her. "Tell me all that, and then I'll make up my mind if I want to do this or not." If he wanted her help, he would have to tell her a few details first. She could be very stubborn, and refused to budge from her previous statement, back in the blacksmith's shop. "I want to know what it is I'm supposed to steal... you'll have to tell me that so I know what to look for, but also why you want it so bad.. why's it so important?
"I could easily get out of the city and be on my way at any time I want, so don't make the mistake of thinking I have no choice but to help you. I'm curious, so that's why I'm here. I'd like to get my name cleared, if that's at all possible." She added, frowning slightly at that. Honestly she'd like to know what her name was, but she wasn't going to say that to him. With a motion toward the stack of posters, she added, "What's it say I did now, anyway?" She kept an almost bored sounding tone, as if she couldn't be bothered to walk over and look more closely. As if, perhaps, the charges against her changed so much she couldn't keep up.
Strawberry
(disguised as a boy)
Anger boiled in her veins at the threat he made about 'disguising' her face. There was something else, too, which she couldn't, or wouldn't, identify. Perhaps a flicker of fear, but she pushed that far down deep where it couldn't be detected, either by him or even herself. There were a number of threats in retaliation to his comment which occurred to her. She came close to at least one retort back to him, but instead she refrained, with some effort, and reminded herself that it would accomplish very little. Probably nothing. Strawberry already despised the man, he had made it clear that he despised her. Now that they had that settled, there was little either of them could do or say to alter that mutual feeling of dislike either way.
Her arms remained folded as she frowned at his choice of words, however. 'My little thief'. She didn't like that. "I'm not your thief," She made clear to him firmly. "And I'll help you if I want to. You still haven't told me what this paper thing actually is, or what reason you want it for." She reminded him. "So far, all you've told me is that you want a few slips of paper, and they're very heavily guarded." She shrugged, thinking a moment. "That's interesting enough to make me curious, but not enough to make me decide if I want to do it." Nigh-impenetrable fortress? She had a few ideas on what he could mean by that... one idea being the palace or whatever was up on the seventh circle, but she didn't know exactly what was up there.
"The problem is, you aren't the only crooked guard in this city." She informed him, frowning as she took her hat off. Maybe he didn't know that. Maybe he did. She frowned, thinking for a moment. "There's another far more dangerous to me than you are, so if you're expecting me to break into a guard tower or something like that..." She paused, considering. "I'm going to need a lot of information." She glanced at him thoughtfully. "I agreed to meet here so you could tell me more about all this, so tell me everything, not just a few little things here and there." She frowned, having an irritating feeling that he was holding a lot of information back from her. "Tell me all that, and then I'll make up my mind if I want to do this or not." If he wanted her help, he would have to tell her a few details first. She could be very stubborn, and refused to budge from her previous statement, back in the blacksmith's shop. "I want to know what it is I'm supposed to steal... you'll have to tell me that so I know what to look for, but also why you want it so bad.. why's it so important?
"I could easily get out of the city and be on my way at any time I want, so don't make the mistake of thinking I have no choice but to help you. I'm curious, so that's why I'm here. I'd like to get my name cleared, if that's at all possible." She added, frowning slightly at that. Honestly she'd like to know what her name was, but she wasn't going to say that to him. With a motion toward the stack of posters, she added, "What's it say I did now, anyway?" She kept an almost bored sounding tone, as if she couldn't be bothered to walk over and look more closely. As if, perhaps, the charges against her changed so much she couldn't keep up.
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Hathaldir with Strawberry (@Rillewen)
Hathaldir could only hold back so long if he wanted to go through with this. And he did. More than anything. He had not felt such a desperate, driving, undeniable need in years. In all that time, he had not cared about anything, not truly. Not even himself. His brother’s death had awoken a part of him he had long believed to be dead. The part that beat in his chest, keeping him alive, doing its duty and nothing more. These days it battered him from the inside out, flooding his veins with wrath and fueling a lust for revenge ever since, guiding him like a man possessed.
There was no stopping him from the course he had chosen to take. There was no crime too cruel to commit, no conscience to call him back to reason. He did not need to justify himself to this obstinate, self-righteous thief. There was no room for her judgment and scruples in his plot. If she didn’t like it, if she turned on him, if she refused, she would know too much. He would do what had to be done. How far he had fallen to consider such a thing. It was impossible, even for him, to look the girl in the face with such a dark thought in his mind. Instead, he stared at the nearest open book before him and found no respite there. All he could see was his brother’s face instead of the words. He cringed slightly with distaste and closed the cover before he sat up and shifted the books aside. Out of sight, out of mind.
“You want to know if this favor is worth your time?” He spoke softly, slightly rough around the edges, as if the reluctant words had to claw their way out. “Have you ever known someone who was subject to an unfair lie, who was never given the chance to right this wrong?” His eyes narrowed, the furrow in his brow deepening. It was not aimed at her this time. It was for those who had failed to deliver justice, those who let a killer walk free, and those who let them get away with it without question.
“Is it important to give a man his worth even in death, to find honor that has been stripped from his name by those too lazy to do the job they have been trusted to do? When he has been called a coward by those who once claimed to be his friends though he was a decent, kind man who was often overlooked but not by those who took his life too soon…” His anger sparked and flared to the surface as he continued speaking and he fought to keep his voice level and controlled. ”I only want to right this wrong for him and you will help me do it.” She would. Or else.
“You want to know your list of crimes? See for yourself.” He flicked a poster toward her. “Thievery, forgery…murder and treason.” He raised a skeptical brow at her when he spoke these last two. “I assume breaking into the Tower Guard to steal a file on a man’s death will not be a problem for someone with your background. Even with another crooked guard in the ranks.” A matter to look into later. He didn’t so much as flinch at being called one himself. They both knew what he was. “And I can only assume if it comes to it, you would not hesitate to take the right steps to cover your tracks.” The insinuation being that the right steps would be to end the life of any witness…
Hathaldir could only hold back so long if he wanted to go through with this. And he did. More than anything. He had not felt such a desperate, driving, undeniable need in years. In all that time, he had not cared about anything, not truly. Not even himself. His brother’s death had awoken a part of him he had long believed to be dead. The part that beat in his chest, keeping him alive, doing its duty and nothing more. These days it battered him from the inside out, flooding his veins with wrath and fueling a lust for revenge ever since, guiding him like a man possessed.
There was no stopping him from the course he had chosen to take. There was no crime too cruel to commit, no conscience to call him back to reason. He did not need to justify himself to this obstinate, self-righteous thief. There was no room for her judgment and scruples in his plot. If she didn’t like it, if she turned on him, if she refused, she would know too much. He would do what had to be done. How far he had fallen to consider such a thing. It was impossible, even for him, to look the girl in the face with such a dark thought in his mind. Instead, he stared at the nearest open book before him and found no respite there. All he could see was his brother’s face instead of the words. He cringed slightly with distaste and closed the cover before he sat up and shifted the books aside. Out of sight, out of mind.
“You want to know if this favor is worth your time?” He spoke softly, slightly rough around the edges, as if the reluctant words had to claw their way out. “Have you ever known someone who was subject to an unfair lie, who was never given the chance to right this wrong?” His eyes narrowed, the furrow in his brow deepening. It was not aimed at her this time. It was for those who had failed to deliver justice, those who let a killer walk free, and those who let them get away with it without question.
“Is it important to give a man his worth even in death, to find honor that has been stripped from his name by those too lazy to do the job they have been trusted to do? When he has been called a coward by those who once claimed to be his friends though he was a decent, kind man who was often overlooked but not by those who took his life too soon…” His anger sparked and flared to the surface as he continued speaking and he fought to keep his voice level and controlled. ”I only want to right this wrong for him and you will help me do it.” She would. Or else.
“You want to know your list of crimes? See for yourself.” He flicked a poster toward her. “Thievery, forgery…murder and treason.” He raised a skeptical brow at her when he spoke these last two. “I assume breaking into the Tower Guard to steal a file on a man’s death will not be a problem for someone with your background. Even with another crooked guard in the ranks.” A matter to look into later. He didn’t so much as flinch at being called one himself. They both knew what he was. “And I can only assume if it comes to it, you would not hesitate to take the right steps to cover your tracks.” The insinuation being that the right steps would be to end the life of any witness…
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Steward of Gondor
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@Tuilindo
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
“Have you ever known someone who was subject to an unfair lie, who was never given the chance to right this wrong?”
The words he spoke made her stare at him, wondering how he could even ask that. But he didn't know, she reminded herself. He couldn't know, probably wouldn't even care if he did. But it irritated her, just the same. He cared so much about setting things right for this other person, whoever it was, while treating her like she were lower than dirt. "No, I can't imagine what that must feel like." She muttered under her breath, dryly. He continued on, perhaps without hearing her, talking about...whoever it was who had been wronged. They were dead. She frowned, listening. Clearly, it was a very important matter to this guy.
That wasn't what made her interested, of course. Someone had been killed. From the sound of it, falsely accused of something, but whatever the case, he was interested in achieving justice. Catching the person responsible. Strawberry gave a small nod as he concluded his little speech, and took a moment to think about the whole matter. It was definitely a noble cause, and she made up her mind then that she'd do it. But she had to think about what sort of details she'd need to ask about... what sort of things would she need to know? It was definitely very risky, what he was asking her to do. What if he was in there? She would have to find out about the layout of the place, and the schedules of the guards, and...
She was drawn from her thoughts as she heard the guard now answering her other question, glancing back up at him as he listed something unfamiliar. Her green eyes widened with great surprise, however, at the last two words he uttered, particularly the final one. "Treason?!" She repeated in shock, snatching the paper he held out, before she had a chance to think better of it. "Forgery?" She repeated absently. "What's that mean?" She spoke in confusion before her mind had a chance to catch up... before she realized that she shouldn't have asked that. Surely, it would be a dumb question and now she would sound stupid for not knowing, but she'd never heard of it before. Furthermore, she was too stunned by the 'treason' charge to think of much else. If only she could remember her past... did she commit treason? Could she have really done that? Frowning, the girl thought hard on that, questioning herself. No, she couldn't imagine herself betraying anyone. She despised the very idea of it. It was simply ridiculous to even think it of herself. Her anger swelled again at this false accusation, hotter than ever.
Now that she had the paper in her hand, she felt some obligation to stare at it, though it really didn't help her any. Strawberry glared at the paper, unsure where the word 'treason' actually was on it, and was tempted to crumple it into a ball. Instead, she glanced up from it with a frown, slightly caught by surprise at hearing the guard's words about doing 'whatever is necessary'. Did he actually mean he expected her to kill someone if she was caught? He had picked the wrong thief, if that's what he expected. "I don't kill." Her tone was icy, waving the poster briefly at him. "I don't care what this says. But you don't have to worry about me getting caught. If I do, I'll be in a lot more danger than you could ever bring about, I can assure you." She inhaled slowly, closed her eyes briefly, and sighed, trying to calm her temper. "I'll get your proof, and I won't be caught, don't worry about that. She glanced at him. "Not for you, though. For him. Whoever he was, the one that was killed." She informed him, then looked back down at the paper. She frowned at it as her eyes scanned over the whole thing, top to bottom, feeling sure there must be a name on it somewhere... the guard who put these up must have put some way to contact him, a name..something. She didn't know where to look for it on here, though. She decided she'd worry about it later, and folded it before slipping the paper into a pocket in her bag.
"I'll need to know all about the place I'm breaking into." She informed him, finally moving to take a seat across from the guard at the table. "Can you sketch out a layout of the place? Doors, windows, hallways, rooms... where guards are posted, where they do moving patrols, things like that. And write down whatever name or title is going to be on the file you need. And write it clearly, in case the light is very dim when I'm looking for it." If he wrote the word down, she could at least compare the letters and match it up. It was the only way she could think of to actually have a chance of success here. Getting in and out wasn't the most difficult part for her, Strawberry thought, but rather finding the correct file would be hardest of all.
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
“Have you ever known someone who was subject to an unfair lie, who was never given the chance to right this wrong?”
The words he spoke made her stare at him, wondering how he could even ask that. But he didn't know, she reminded herself. He couldn't know, probably wouldn't even care if he did. But it irritated her, just the same. He cared so much about setting things right for this other person, whoever it was, while treating her like she were lower than dirt. "No, I can't imagine what that must feel like." She muttered under her breath, dryly. He continued on, perhaps without hearing her, talking about...whoever it was who had been wronged. They were dead. She frowned, listening. Clearly, it was a very important matter to this guy.
That wasn't what made her interested, of course. Someone had been killed. From the sound of it, falsely accused of something, but whatever the case, he was interested in achieving justice. Catching the person responsible. Strawberry gave a small nod as he concluded his little speech, and took a moment to think about the whole matter. It was definitely a noble cause, and she made up her mind then that she'd do it. But she had to think about what sort of details she'd need to ask about... what sort of things would she need to know? It was definitely very risky, what he was asking her to do. What if he was in there? She would have to find out about the layout of the place, and the schedules of the guards, and...
She was drawn from her thoughts as she heard the guard now answering her other question, glancing back up at him as he listed something unfamiliar. Her green eyes widened with great surprise, however, at the last two words he uttered, particularly the final one. "Treason?!" She repeated in shock, snatching the paper he held out, before she had a chance to think better of it. "Forgery?" She repeated absently. "What's that mean?" She spoke in confusion before her mind had a chance to catch up... before she realized that she shouldn't have asked that. Surely, it would be a dumb question and now she would sound stupid for not knowing, but she'd never heard of it before. Furthermore, she was too stunned by the 'treason' charge to think of much else. If only she could remember her past... did she commit treason? Could she have really done that? Frowning, the girl thought hard on that, questioning herself. No, she couldn't imagine herself betraying anyone. She despised the very idea of it. It was simply ridiculous to even think it of herself. Her anger swelled again at this false accusation, hotter than ever.
Now that she had the paper in her hand, she felt some obligation to stare at it, though it really didn't help her any. Strawberry glared at the paper, unsure where the word 'treason' actually was on it, and was tempted to crumple it into a ball. Instead, she glanced up from it with a frown, slightly caught by surprise at hearing the guard's words about doing 'whatever is necessary'. Did he actually mean he expected her to kill someone if she was caught? He had picked the wrong thief, if that's what he expected. "I don't kill." Her tone was icy, waving the poster briefly at him. "I don't care what this says. But you don't have to worry about me getting caught. If I do, I'll be in a lot more danger than you could ever bring about, I can assure you." She inhaled slowly, closed her eyes briefly, and sighed, trying to calm her temper. "I'll get your proof, and I won't be caught, don't worry about that. She glanced at him. "Not for you, though. For him. Whoever he was, the one that was killed." She informed him, then looked back down at the paper. She frowned at it as her eyes scanned over the whole thing, top to bottom, feeling sure there must be a name on it somewhere... the guard who put these up must have put some way to contact him, a name..something. She didn't know where to look for it on here, though. She decided she'd worry about it later, and folded it before slipping the paper into a pocket in her bag.
"I'll need to know all about the place I'm breaking into." She informed him, finally moving to take a seat across from the guard at the table. "Can you sketch out a layout of the place? Doors, windows, hallways, rooms... where guards are posted, where they do moving patrols, things like that. And write down whatever name or title is going to be on the file you need. And write it clearly, in case the light is very dim when I'm looking for it." If he wrote the word down, she could at least compare the letters and match it up. It was the only way she could think of to actually have a chance of success here. Getting in and out wasn't the most difficult part for her, Strawberry thought, but rather finding the correct file would be hardest of all.
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Hathaldir with Strawberry (@Rillewen)
He told her. He told her and the world did not come crashing down around him. No one marched in to make him reckon with his lies and demand he turn in his uniform and march back to the muddy, root-entangled wilds he came from. He had done it! And she had agreed.
A weight he hadn’t realized was there lifted from his shoulders and energy rushed through him like flames through dry brush but without any of its light and all of its destruction. A taste of power. Over a little girl, yes, but it was a step, a first step in the right direction. He hungered for more but he held himself back, reaching for his flask and letting the liquor burn its way down his throat. If all went according to plan, there would be time to move the pieces into place and take what he was owed. A life for a life. Death for death. But a predator had to be patient, so patient he would be.
Her reaction to her supposed crimes was pure gold. Shock, outrage, confusion. Just as he expected, she was not a murderer. A murderer did not refuse to kill. Hathaldir released a huff of amusement. “I didn’t believe it, either.” He chuckled under his breath. “Forgery…is creating falsified documents, seals, signatures and the like. Writs of nobility are especially popular. I am sure you can imagine why.”
“Given your supposed crimes,” he continued, “I suppose a noose awaits you if you are caught.” He lowered his voice, breath laced with alcohol, and mumbled, “So for the sake of your own neck, I suggest you do your very best not to be.” If she wasn’t inspired enough to stay out of the other guards’ clutches before, she surely would be now. He watched her fold the poster and tuck it away. For safekeeping? A souvenir? It was a strange thing to do, but like he let it slide without comment.
He crossed his arms on the edge of the table. “I thought you were doing this for yourself, to clear your name…” There was a suspicious edge to his tone of voice. Hathaldir did not trust anyone to act without selfish motives, and those who denied their own interests were lying through their teeth. “If you need to dress it up as charity, I am sure he would have found you a most honorable thief, risking yourself for his memory.”
Straightening, he slid a piece of parchment onto the table between them, gripped an inked quill in his hand and began to sketch a rough layout of the Tower Guard. “I will need some time to study the guards’ schedules and rotations. In the meantime, you can study this. Memorize it. Burn it once you have done so.” The quill scratched on the parchment as he spoke. “As I said, I will get you in and I will do what I can to deter their attention from you when you make your attempt. If you tell me about this crooked guard of yours, I will keep a special eye on him.” At the bottom of the sketch, he wrote the name in a clear script-- Tandarion Thindlorn.
“This is the file you will take, little Foxhound. And if you fetch it for me like a good foxhound does, you will earn yourself a reward.”
He told her. He told her and the world did not come crashing down around him. No one marched in to make him reckon with his lies and demand he turn in his uniform and march back to the muddy, root-entangled wilds he came from. He had done it! And she had agreed.
A weight he hadn’t realized was there lifted from his shoulders and energy rushed through him like flames through dry brush but without any of its light and all of its destruction. A taste of power. Over a little girl, yes, but it was a step, a first step in the right direction. He hungered for more but he held himself back, reaching for his flask and letting the liquor burn its way down his throat. If all went according to plan, there would be time to move the pieces into place and take what he was owed. A life for a life. Death for death. But a predator had to be patient, so patient he would be.
Her reaction to her supposed crimes was pure gold. Shock, outrage, confusion. Just as he expected, she was not a murderer. A murderer did not refuse to kill. Hathaldir released a huff of amusement. “I didn’t believe it, either.” He chuckled under his breath. “Forgery…is creating falsified documents, seals, signatures and the like. Writs of nobility are especially popular. I am sure you can imagine why.”
“Given your supposed crimes,” he continued, “I suppose a noose awaits you if you are caught.” He lowered his voice, breath laced with alcohol, and mumbled, “So for the sake of your own neck, I suggest you do your very best not to be.” If she wasn’t inspired enough to stay out of the other guards’ clutches before, she surely would be now. He watched her fold the poster and tuck it away. For safekeeping? A souvenir? It was a strange thing to do, but like he let it slide without comment.
He crossed his arms on the edge of the table. “I thought you were doing this for yourself, to clear your name…” There was a suspicious edge to his tone of voice. Hathaldir did not trust anyone to act without selfish motives, and those who denied their own interests were lying through their teeth. “If you need to dress it up as charity, I am sure he would have found you a most honorable thief, risking yourself for his memory.”
Straightening, he slid a piece of parchment onto the table between them, gripped an inked quill in his hand and began to sketch a rough layout of the Tower Guard. “I will need some time to study the guards’ schedules and rotations. In the meantime, you can study this. Memorize it. Burn it once you have done so.” The quill scratched on the parchment as he spoke. “As I said, I will get you in and I will do what I can to deter their attention from you when you make your attempt. If you tell me about this crooked guard of yours, I will keep a special eye on him.” At the bottom of the sketch, he wrote the name in a clear script-- Tandarion Thindlorn.
“This is the file you will take, little Foxhound. And if you fetch it for me like a good foxhound does, you will earn yourself a reward.”
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Steward of Gondor
Posts: 4487
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
@Tuilindo
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
The anger she felt upon hearing she'd been accused of treachery still burned inside as she listened to the guard explain what the other crime meant. Forgery. Staring at him for a brief moment as she absorbed what it actually meant, she couldn't help it. A laugh burst out, and then she sat there laughing and practically giggling about it for a little while. "Paper stuff... writing..." She couldn't possibly explain to him why this struck her so funny, but if only he knew. If only the other guard knew, he'd realize what a huge mistake he'd made. For a moment, she seemed just like a regular teenage girl without any cares, laughing at some joke with a friend. It felt nice to laugh... she didn't remember when was the last time she'd really laughed, and it lightened some of the tension that had been weighing on her. She grinned, sitting back and folding her arms, still amused as she struggled to smother the continuing snickers. "Writing fake papers... that's very interesting." She smiled. A glint of amusement remained in her green eyes as she tried to return her attention to the serious matter at hand.
“Given your supposed crimes, I suppose a noose awaits you if you are caught.” The guard was saying.
She didn't care if he may have found her laughter annoying, but that statement did help bring her mind back to the gravity of.. her life. "A lot worse than that, I'm sure," she replied with a shrug. It wasn't that she didn't care; quite the contrary. But by now, she'd become so accustomed to being in danger, running and hiding and the like, it wasn't anything new to be reminded of how much danger she was in, should she be caught by the guards. This one, he seemed to think that dying was the worst thing she had to worry about, and that made him seem about as naive as he may have believed her to be. But there was no reason to tell him. He was no friend, and she didn't figure it likely that he'd ever be one, nor that he'd ever take sides one way or another. He may or may not help her, so long as she was helping him, but that seemed about as far as it would go.
"I don't know that my name can be cleared," She mentioned with a shrug. "Even if..." She trailed off, then changed her statement. "It'd be great, if you can manage it. But..." She sighed, looking down at the remaining pile of papers, thinking as the guard in front of her asked her to tell him about the other crooked guard. What could she really say about him? She didn't really know his name. She didn't know much at all about him, other than he was hunting her relentlessly, and had spread these papers all over the kingdom, in every city. But she'd only seen him a couple of times, personally, and couldn't say what his purpose was. Watching him sketch out the building, she frowned thoughtfully. "I haven't managed to learn his name." She admitted. "He's young, though. And he's got a rank.. I don't know what rank. But he commands others, and he's got a lot of men under his command... they do what he says." She sighed softly, rubbing her forehead with one hand. She stood up and paced around, trying to think. He had to be responsible for putting the posters out... maybe there was a name listed on them somewhere, telling who was offering the reward, maybe? She debated about looking, but didn't want to do that in his presence.
"Most of the things he's put on that poster, saying that I did..." She gestured to the stack on the table. "Well, I've no doubt he's actually the one who did them. I'll admit to stealing, or occasionally killing a bandit in self-defense, but the other things..." She frowned and shook her head. "There's got to be some way to prove he's a crooked guard. Something.. somehow." She felt frustrated, not knowing how to go about finding this proof, but she felt sure it must exist. "I don't know who he is exactly, but I know what he looks like. He's.. probably early twenties, and he's really caught up in his looks, you know.. good looking, charming, that sort of thing.. he doesn't really look like a bad person, I guess. But he definitely is." she thought back, trying to remember more details. "His hair's not as dark as a lot of the people around here, sort of a light brown or dark blond, sort of? I can't be sure about his eyes, maybe blue or green." She frowned. "And his uniform," She proceeded to describe the uniform worn by a lieutenant. "Does that help?"
Taking the sketch, she studied it. Her finger traced the path down the halls, trying to learn the best path. "This is the room with the files?" She asked, trying to get an idea of where it was, and whether she'd have to pass through any rooms with guards or anything like that. "You said it's guarded, is that day and night, or just night?" She wished he already knew the guard's patrol habits and routes, but she would just have to wait until he had that information. Else, she could try to watch for herself, but it was better if a guard did it. Finally, her eyes moved to study the name written across the bottom. The letters didn't mean anything to her, but it was something to compare to the files, and thus help her to locate the correct one. "When you've found out about the guard's patrols, I should be able to get to work. I don't want to be surprised by a guard patrol I wasn't expecting, you know. So the sooner you find that out, the sooner I can get your file." She paused, then added, "And I'm more of a fox, not a hound." She smirked faintly.
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
The anger she felt upon hearing she'd been accused of treachery still burned inside as she listened to the guard explain what the other crime meant. Forgery. Staring at him for a brief moment as she absorbed what it actually meant, she couldn't help it. A laugh burst out, and then she sat there laughing and practically giggling about it for a little while. "Paper stuff... writing..." She couldn't possibly explain to him why this struck her so funny, but if only he knew. If only the other guard knew, he'd realize what a huge mistake he'd made. For a moment, she seemed just like a regular teenage girl without any cares, laughing at some joke with a friend. It felt nice to laugh... she didn't remember when was the last time she'd really laughed, and it lightened some of the tension that had been weighing on her. She grinned, sitting back and folding her arms, still amused as she struggled to smother the continuing snickers. "Writing fake papers... that's very interesting." She smiled. A glint of amusement remained in her green eyes as she tried to return her attention to the serious matter at hand.
“Given your supposed crimes, I suppose a noose awaits you if you are caught.” The guard was saying.
She didn't care if he may have found her laughter annoying, but that statement did help bring her mind back to the gravity of.. her life. "A lot worse than that, I'm sure," she replied with a shrug. It wasn't that she didn't care; quite the contrary. But by now, she'd become so accustomed to being in danger, running and hiding and the like, it wasn't anything new to be reminded of how much danger she was in, should she be caught by the guards. This one, he seemed to think that dying was the worst thing she had to worry about, and that made him seem about as naive as he may have believed her to be. But there was no reason to tell him. He was no friend, and she didn't figure it likely that he'd ever be one, nor that he'd ever take sides one way or another. He may or may not help her, so long as she was helping him, but that seemed about as far as it would go.
"I don't know that my name can be cleared," She mentioned with a shrug. "Even if..." She trailed off, then changed her statement. "It'd be great, if you can manage it. But..." She sighed, looking down at the remaining pile of papers, thinking as the guard in front of her asked her to tell him about the other crooked guard. What could she really say about him? She didn't really know his name. She didn't know much at all about him, other than he was hunting her relentlessly, and had spread these papers all over the kingdom, in every city. But she'd only seen him a couple of times, personally, and couldn't say what his purpose was. Watching him sketch out the building, she frowned thoughtfully. "I haven't managed to learn his name." She admitted. "He's young, though. And he's got a rank.. I don't know what rank. But he commands others, and he's got a lot of men under his command... they do what he says." She sighed softly, rubbing her forehead with one hand. She stood up and paced around, trying to think. He had to be responsible for putting the posters out... maybe there was a name listed on them somewhere, telling who was offering the reward, maybe? She debated about looking, but didn't want to do that in his presence.
"Most of the things he's put on that poster, saying that I did..." She gestured to the stack on the table. "Well, I've no doubt he's actually the one who did them. I'll admit to stealing, or occasionally killing a bandit in self-defense, but the other things..." She frowned and shook her head. "There's got to be some way to prove he's a crooked guard. Something.. somehow." She felt frustrated, not knowing how to go about finding this proof, but she felt sure it must exist. "I don't know who he is exactly, but I know what he looks like. He's.. probably early twenties, and he's really caught up in his looks, you know.. good looking, charming, that sort of thing.. he doesn't really look like a bad person, I guess. But he definitely is." she thought back, trying to remember more details. "His hair's not as dark as a lot of the people around here, sort of a light brown or dark blond, sort of? I can't be sure about his eyes, maybe blue or green." She frowned. "And his uniform," She proceeded to describe the uniform worn by a lieutenant. "Does that help?"
Taking the sketch, she studied it. Her finger traced the path down the halls, trying to learn the best path. "This is the room with the files?" She asked, trying to get an idea of where it was, and whether she'd have to pass through any rooms with guards or anything like that. "You said it's guarded, is that day and night, or just night?" She wished he already knew the guard's patrol habits and routes, but she would just have to wait until he had that information. Else, she could try to watch for herself, but it was better if a guard did it. Finally, her eyes moved to study the name written across the bottom. The letters didn't mean anything to her, but it was something to compare to the files, and thus help her to locate the correct one. "When you've found out about the guard's patrols, I should be able to get to work. I don't want to be surprised by a guard patrol I wasn't expecting, you know. So the sooner you find that out, the sooner I can get your file." She paused, then added, "And I'm more of a fox, not a hound." She smirked faintly.
Last edited by Rillewen on Tue Feb 22, 2022 5:08 am, edited 1 time in total.
I'm looking for someone to share in an Adventure
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Istari Sage
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
That he had been accepted by the people of Gondor at all was testament that the stories he has been told about the men of Gondor were wrong. That he had been allowed to serve as a ranger of Ithilien was further evidence that the men of Gondor were both wiser and kinder than he had expected. Kind to judge him based on his own merits and not those of his kindred. But wise to recognize that having someone who knew the lands well east and north of Mordor from where much of the dangers of Northern Ithilien came was valuable. Denethor himself had to approve his appointment, the previous steward Ecthelion had died several years prior.
While Indo felt mostly at home and accepted among the people of Gondor, and especially those of the rangers with whom he had formed a strong bond, his past could not be wholly taken from him even though it had been nearly ten years of service. The Easterlings of Rhûn were a people of song and poem and did not put much stock in the written word. It was so that most of the stories he had heard of the men of Gondor were just that, stories he had heard. Mostly of their wickedness and of course the victories of the Wainriders of the past over the weak men of Gondor. Although little was said of what was made of these victories and that the Easterlings had ultimately lost.
It was thus a morbid curiosity of the history of his birth people intertwined with his adopted people which caused Indo to spend much of his spare time in the libraries. Most of the dealings of the Wainriders and Gondor occurred in the 19th and 20th centuries of the third age and as such the tomes or lore regarding this age were old and while they were well preserved, Indo had to receive special permission to view them and could do so only from the library itself. Indo had managed to convince the ranger Captain, not yet Faramir who was still a teenager, that he needed to study the materials to better understand the possible movements of the Easterlings. Although it had been many years since any open wars, Mordor and its allies were stirring and more skirmishes than usual were occurring.
The large tome laid open on the long library bench and Indo sat hunched over it. Two candles, one on either side due to the size of the tome, lit the book and Indo’s face revealing a dark complexion and clean shaven face. His black hair was tied neatly in a knot on the back of his head. He wore the dark greens and browns of a Ranger of Ithilien although he was wearing only wool and linen and wore no leather armor save his boots and a belt. He carried no weapon openly but kept a knife on his belt at his back but it was covered by a long grey-green cloak with the large cowl pulled down. There was a frown on Indo’s face as the candle light flickered over him. It was strange to read the stories of triumph he had grown up hearing from such a different perspective.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
That he had been accepted by the people of Gondor at all was testament that the stories he has been told about the men of Gondor were wrong. That he had been allowed to serve as a ranger of Ithilien was further evidence that the men of Gondor were both wiser and kinder than he had expected. Kind to judge him based on his own merits and not those of his kindred. But wise to recognize that having someone who knew the lands well east and north of Mordor from where much of the dangers of Northern Ithilien came was valuable. Denethor himself had to approve his appointment, the previous steward Ecthelion had died several years prior.
While Indo felt mostly at home and accepted among the people of Gondor, and especially those of the rangers with whom he had formed a strong bond, his past could not be wholly taken from him even though it had been nearly ten years of service. The Easterlings of Rhûn were a people of song and poem and did not put much stock in the written word. It was so that most of the stories he had heard of the men of Gondor were just that, stories he had heard. Mostly of their wickedness and of course the victories of the Wainriders of the past over the weak men of Gondor. Although little was said of what was made of these victories and that the Easterlings had ultimately lost.
It was thus a morbid curiosity of the history of his birth people intertwined with his adopted people which caused Indo to spend much of his spare time in the libraries. Most of the dealings of the Wainriders and Gondor occurred in the 19th and 20th centuries of the third age and as such the tomes or lore regarding this age were old and while they were well preserved, Indo had to receive special permission to view them and could do so only from the library itself. Indo had managed to convince the ranger Captain, not yet Faramir who was still a teenager, that he needed to study the materials to better understand the possible movements of the Easterlings. Although it had been many years since any open wars, Mordor and its allies were stirring and more skirmishes than usual were occurring.
The large tome laid open on the long library bench and Indo sat hunched over it. Two candles, one on either side due to the size of the tome, lit the book and Indo’s face revealing a dark complexion and clean shaven face. His black hair was tied neatly in a knot on the back of his head. He wore the dark greens and browns of a Ranger of Ithilien although he was wearing only wool and linen and wore no leather armor save his boots and a belt. He carried no weapon openly but kept a knife on his belt at his back but it was covered by a long grey-green cloak with the large cowl pulled down. There was a frown on Indo’s face as the candle light flickered over him. It was strange to read the stories of triumph he had grown up hearing from such a different perspective.
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Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
The library was so quiet and spacious, a place of calm. No crowding, pushing children fighting over a blanket, or a toy. No frowning, demanding old hag waiting to scold him. Only rows and rows of books, some full of adventures and wonderful tales about places far away. Places this orphan kid might never see, but could still dream about. Standing there in the midst of the rows of bookshelves, the boy tried to imagine he was in the middle of a forest. Like the forest Addhor was always talking about.
How he wished he could be a ranger, like Dom's brother. He always told such exciting tales, and it hardly seemed fair that Dui wasn't old enough to be a ranger too. But even if he couldn't be one yet, he could read about adventures, when Dom was busy at school and stuff. Maybe when his best friend got free from his lessons, the friends would take off on an adventure of their own, maybe even camp overnight! But for now he was simply trying to avoid Ms Bornifen, before she found out it was him that broke the vase in the entry, while he and little Dawion were playing a game of catch. The matron would be even more angry if she found out he was playing with Dawion again, but the little kid wouldn't take no for an answer, what was Dui supposed to do?
Shaking his head with a sigh, the boy tried not to think about what would happen when he returned, and just decided he'd put it off as long as possible. For now he just wanted to find a good, exciting book with lots of adventure in it. He grabbed a book, flipped through it briefly, and then tucked it under his arm. A little further on, another caught his attention, so he grabbed it too. Then another... he would have a hard time deciding which one he'd rather read if this kept up! As he added a couple more to his stack, the boy finally started toward the nearest place to sit, but hesitated when he noticed someone was there. But it was long, he could go to the other end, and not disturb the man.
As he started toward the furthest chair, having just passed the stranger(though he'd seen this man in here now and then in the past), Dui must have tilted his load just a bit. The top book suddenly slid off, crashing to the floor with a noisy 'thud'. In his haste to spin around and see what had happened, another book joined the first, leaving the boy cringing at the thought that he might have damaged the books... the people in charge of the library were going to be angry with him now... and it might get reported back to Ms Bornifen! And then what? He froze for a few seconds, afraid to move lest any other books fell. He had to pick them up though, the second one had landed one one side, with the pages partially open.
"Sorry..." It was unclear whether the hushed mumble was directed at the books or the stranger, whom he must have disturbed with all that noise, or perhaps toward the librarians, wherever they might be. Either way, he quickly knelt to pick up the fallen books after setting the others on the table close by, hoping he wasn't being an annoyance to the stranger.
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
The sound of the boy wandering through had not disturbed Indo. He had noticed the child when he had entered, he was trained after all to be observant, but had quickly gone back to his reading. He was currently reading about the conflict in TA 1856 and the defeat of Narmacil II by the Wainriders at the Battle of the Plains who subsequently took control of the parts of the eastern portion of Anduin. This of course was part of the story that Indo was familiar with, it had been sung in the halls where he was raised since he had been a child. Of course in his stories it was the Wainriders who were the heroes slaying the great dictator-king of Gondor. It was strange indeed to read it from the opposing perspective. It was interesting still that what was probably one of the most popular stories among the Easterlings, even over a thousand years later, was likely barely mentioned in most of the histories of Gondor that most in the city would have read. He supposed that was the way of things, no one likes to recall their defeats.
The reprisal after the death of the king, of course, were not featured in the stories and songs of the Easterlings and Indo was curious to see what these texts would say to fill in the gaps. The subsequent death of on of the king of Gondor, Ondoher, nearly one hundred years later was of course sung about greatly by Indo's people, themselves being descendent from the Wainriders of Rhûn. But Indo was getting ahead of himself. The text was surprisingly thorough even for what was considered a horrific defeat for the kingdom of Gondor. He supposed he had the ancient lore masters of Gondor to thank for their thoroughness and commitment to the historic record. The text was dense and included the eye-witness testimony of nearly a dozen Gondorian soldiers of several ranks. It was also clear that the author had interviewed several Wainrider prisoners who had been captured after the events, although the author had not recalled them by name. Indo wondered at the reason.
The sudden thud on the ground of the books alerted Indo whose eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound and his hand instinctively dropped as if to draw the knife he had kept. It took only heartbeat, however, to realize what had really happened and a smile came across his face. Indo slid back on the chair he was sitting and stood, he wasn't remarkably tall, average height for a man not of the Dúnedain. He took a few steps over to where the child had dropped the books and mumbled an apology (although Indo wasn't sure to whom he was apologizing, he wasn't sure if the boy knew either). He knelt down and picked up one of the books and placed it on the table with one of the others which the boy had taken. "It's not a problem" he said with a smile.
Despite having lived in Minas Tirith for nearly a decade there was still a trace of an accent as Indo spoke, another feature which made him stand out among the population, something which he had worked on intentionally to discard. "It is good to see a boy of your age reading" he said, Indo had never been interested in books much as a child and as a young adult nearly in his teenage years, as this boy appeared to be, he certainly did not have a mind for reading. "What are you reading?" he asked, and took a look over to the librarian. They were far enough away and there were currently no other guests in the library so he decided a quiet conversation would not be a problem. Besides the boy looked uneasy and Indo was sympathetic, having felt uncomfortable and unwelcome in most places he had visited in Gondor simply by being there.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
The sound of the boy wandering through had not disturbed Indo. He had noticed the child when he had entered, he was trained after all to be observant, but had quickly gone back to his reading. He was currently reading about the conflict in TA 1856 and the defeat of Narmacil II by the Wainriders at the Battle of the Plains who subsequently took control of the parts of the eastern portion of Anduin. This of course was part of the story that Indo was familiar with, it had been sung in the halls where he was raised since he had been a child. Of course in his stories it was the Wainriders who were the heroes slaying the great dictator-king of Gondor. It was strange indeed to read it from the opposing perspective. It was interesting still that what was probably one of the most popular stories among the Easterlings, even over a thousand years later, was likely barely mentioned in most of the histories of Gondor that most in the city would have read. He supposed that was the way of things, no one likes to recall their defeats.
The reprisal after the death of the king, of course, were not featured in the stories and songs of the Easterlings and Indo was curious to see what these texts would say to fill in the gaps. The subsequent death of on of the king of Gondor, Ondoher, nearly one hundred years later was of course sung about greatly by Indo's people, themselves being descendent from the Wainriders of Rhûn. But Indo was getting ahead of himself. The text was surprisingly thorough even for what was considered a horrific defeat for the kingdom of Gondor. He supposed he had the ancient lore masters of Gondor to thank for their thoroughness and commitment to the historic record. The text was dense and included the eye-witness testimony of nearly a dozen Gondorian soldiers of several ranks. It was also clear that the author had interviewed several Wainrider prisoners who had been captured after the events, although the author had not recalled them by name. Indo wondered at the reason.
The sudden thud on the ground of the books alerted Indo whose eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound and his hand instinctively dropped as if to draw the knife he had kept. It took only heartbeat, however, to realize what had really happened and a smile came across his face. Indo slid back on the chair he was sitting and stood, he wasn't remarkably tall, average height for a man not of the Dúnedain. He took a few steps over to where the child had dropped the books and mumbled an apology (although Indo wasn't sure to whom he was apologizing, he wasn't sure if the boy knew either). He knelt down and picked up one of the books and placed it on the table with one of the others which the boy had taken. "It's not a problem" he said with a smile.
Despite having lived in Minas Tirith for nearly a decade there was still a trace of an accent as Indo spoke, another feature which made him stand out among the population, something which he had worked on intentionally to discard. "It is good to see a boy of your age reading" he said, Indo had never been interested in books much as a child and as a young adult nearly in his teenage years, as this boy appeared to be, he certainly did not have a mind for reading. "What are you reading?" he asked, and took a look over to the librarian. They were far enough away and there were currently no other guests in the library so he decided a quiet conversation would not be a problem. Besides the boy looked uneasy and Indo was sympathetic, having felt uncomfortable and unwelcome in most places he had visited in Gondor simply by being there.
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@Romeran
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
When the books fell, Duinion worried the noise might, at the least, bring a scowl or dirty look from the stranger, who appeared quite absorbed in one of the older history tomes, at a glance. He certainly didn't expect the stranger to stand up much less pick up one of the books for him. Having hesitated when he saw the man stand up, he blinked in surprise at the kind gesture, which was not at all what he had been anticipating. "Thank you, sir." He relaxed and offered a smile in return.
There was an accent, one he'd never heard before, when the man spoke. Dui's eyes widened slightly in curiosity. "You come from a long way off, don't you sir?" he asked, intrigued by this. He'd seen him around often enough.. this man was easily distinguishable from everyone else, but he'd never heard him speak before. The accent seemed to confirm any suspicions he'd harbored that the man was from other places, not that Dui had any idea where those far off places could be. "I've never been very far from here," The boy added, with a hint of wistfulness. How he'd love to go traveling to far away lands... to travel from this city and never come back, unless Dom didn't go with him, then he'd come back to see him. Maybe he'd become some famous adventurer or traveler, or discover new lands, or new...somethings. If he did something big and important like that, maybe he'd be famous or something, and then no one could say things like Ms Bornifen had said earlier...
His thoughts were interrupted as he realized the man had asked him something. What is he reading? "Oh... I hadn't decided yet." Duinion glanced down at the books he had selected, unsure. "They all looked interesting. It's just fiction books," He added, glancing down at the title of the book in his hands. "This one's about a group of heroes that had to fight a dragon," He grinned. "It sounded exciting." The other books were similar, made up stories with some real aspects, certain ideas drawn from events in history, made into exciting adventure stories. "What're you reading?" He wondered as an afterthought, glancing toward what seemed to be a dull history textbook, or at least it looked like those used for his history lessons, when the teacher would ramble on about some story that could maybe be exciting if she'd just tell it right, but never did.
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
When the books fell, Duinion worried the noise might, at the least, bring a scowl or dirty look from the stranger, who appeared quite absorbed in one of the older history tomes, at a glance. He certainly didn't expect the stranger to stand up much less pick up one of the books for him. Having hesitated when he saw the man stand up, he blinked in surprise at the kind gesture, which was not at all what he had been anticipating. "Thank you, sir." He relaxed and offered a smile in return.
There was an accent, one he'd never heard before, when the man spoke. Dui's eyes widened slightly in curiosity. "You come from a long way off, don't you sir?" he asked, intrigued by this. He'd seen him around often enough.. this man was easily distinguishable from everyone else, but he'd never heard him speak before. The accent seemed to confirm any suspicions he'd harbored that the man was from other places, not that Dui had any idea where those far off places could be. "I've never been very far from here," The boy added, with a hint of wistfulness. How he'd love to go traveling to far away lands... to travel from this city and never come back, unless Dom didn't go with him, then he'd come back to see him. Maybe he'd become some famous adventurer or traveler, or discover new lands, or new...somethings. If he did something big and important like that, maybe he'd be famous or something, and then no one could say things like Ms Bornifen had said earlier...
His thoughts were interrupted as he realized the man had asked him something. What is he reading? "Oh... I hadn't decided yet." Duinion glanced down at the books he had selected, unsure. "They all looked interesting. It's just fiction books," He added, glancing down at the title of the book in his hands. "This one's about a group of heroes that had to fight a dragon," He grinned. "It sounded exciting." The other books were similar, made up stories with some real aspects, certain ideas drawn from events in history, made into exciting adventure stories. "What're you reading?" He wondered as an afterthought, glancing toward what seemed to be a dull history textbook, or at least it looked like those used for his history lessons, when the teacher would ramble on about some story that could maybe be exciting if she'd just tell it right, but never did.
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
The boy had picked up on his accent, he guessed that it would take him considerably longer than it had already been to be fully rid of the accent. Ultimately though his appearance alone was enough to indicate that he was not from Gondor even if he had sounded like Prince Faramir himself. "Yes, I am from a distant land" he said although he chose not to indulge the boy any further. To be honest he didn't want to scare the child. For long the Easterlings had been considered enemies of Gondor, indeed the particular part of history he was reading was a renowned and prolonged series of conflicts between the two. He expected that many people immediately thought negative things when the name Easterling was mentioned and for this reason he had expected a certain amount of hostility whenever it was mentioned. He had eventually become mostly accepted by the people in the city and a few knew indeed his background, but revealing it to such a young boy who he had only just met seemed a risk he was unwilling to take.
"My name is Indo" he said, offering that to the boy as compensation for not discussing his background "although I'm often known by the rangers as 'The Rómeran', that is the 'east-wanderer' in the tongue of the elves, for I know the lands east of Gondor better than any within the city walls" he hoped that would be enough to satisfy the boy's curiosity such that he wouldn't press him any further about from where he came. Luckily the boy had taken to answering his question about the books he was reading, perhaps he could steer the conversation in a different direction with his response.
Indo listened patiently to Duinion as he described the books he was considering. It was the sort of stories that most boys his age enjoyed hearing about, even if they didn't all enjoy reading about them. Dragons and kings and warriors of ancient times were always an exciting affair. Indo had read a few such tales but he tended to prefer history or at least stories which were true, mostly. "That sounds like an exciting set of choices" he said with a smile "If you are interested in dragons you should read the 'Narn i Hîn Húrin', that is the 'Tale of the Children of Hurin' for it tells part of the story of Glaurung, first among dragons" he said trying to inspire the boy to read about real dragons, terrifying though they may be.
When the boy asked about what he was reading, Indo was somewhat surprised. He wondered if the boy was actually interested or if he had simply returned the question. One may have been a sign of inquisitiveness but the other a sign of politeness. "A history of some of the wars of Gondor with the Wainriders" he explained although he did not mention who the Wainriders were "even though it happened many years ago, there is an old saying that goes 'those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it' and this particular piece of history occurs towards the end of the royal line of Gondor, back when we had Kings" he said in perhaps a mild attempt to inspire the boy that history may not be as dull as it was often taken to be and that many of the fantastical stories were inspired by real events.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
The boy had picked up on his accent, he guessed that it would take him considerably longer than it had already been to be fully rid of the accent. Ultimately though his appearance alone was enough to indicate that he was not from Gondor even if he had sounded like Prince Faramir himself. "Yes, I am from a distant land" he said although he chose not to indulge the boy any further. To be honest he didn't want to scare the child. For long the Easterlings had been considered enemies of Gondor, indeed the particular part of history he was reading was a renowned and prolonged series of conflicts between the two. He expected that many people immediately thought negative things when the name Easterling was mentioned and for this reason he had expected a certain amount of hostility whenever it was mentioned. He had eventually become mostly accepted by the people in the city and a few knew indeed his background, but revealing it to such a young boy who he had only just met seemed a risk he was unwilling to take.
"My name is Indo" he said, offering that to the boy as compensation for not discussing his background "although I'm often known by the rangers as 'The Rómeran', that is the 'east-wanderer' in the tongue of the elves, for I know the lands east of Gondor better than any within the city walls" he hoped that would be enough to satisfy the boy's curiosity such that he wouldn't press him any further about from where he came. Luckily the boy had taken to answering his question about the books he was reading, perhaps he could steer the conversation in a different direction with his response.
Indo listened patiently to Duinion as he described the books he was considering. It was the sort of stories that most boys his age enjoyed hearing about, even if they didn't all enjoy reading about them. Dragons and kings and warriors of ancient times were always an exciting affair. Indo had read a few such tales but he tended to prefer history or at least stories which were true, mostly. "That sounds like an exciting set of choices" he said with a smile "If you are interested in dragons you should read the 'Narn i Hîn Húrin', that is the 'Tale of the Children of Hurin' for it tells part of the story of Glaurung, first among dragons" he said trying to inspire the boy to read about real dragons, terrifying though they may be.
When the boy asked about what he was reading, Indo was somewhat surprised. He wondered if the boy was actually interested or if he had simply returned the question. One may have been a sign of inquisitiveness but the other a sign of politeness. "A history of some of the wars of Gondor with the Wainriders" he explained although he did not mention who the Wainriders were "even though it happened many years ago, there is an old saying that goes 'those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it' and this particular piece of history occurs towards the end of the royal line of Gondor, back when we had Kings" he said in perhaps a mild attempt to inspire the boy that history may not be as dull as it was often taken to be and that many of the fantastical stories were inspired by real events.
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Balrog
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Telling the Taelbook
(Open to All)
Eril wasn’t much of a reader, nor was he much of a writer, so how was it, then, that he found himself wandering along the path the library? He couldn’t say, himself. Wandering feet oft have a mind of their own separate and wholly disconnected from the mind of the person wandering. The day was a gentle one, with winds not above the strength of a breeze and the sun shining just so that the rays glanced off the white of the city and made it glow ethereal.
He wasn’t at work today and found himself uncomfortable and anxious in his home. He hadn’t touched a drink in nearly a year, having sworn it off after Thom’s accident and his own subsequent heart attack, but that did not mean that he didn’t feel the pull of whisky or hear the unhallowed whispers of the pub. Today, those pulls and whispers were strong. He wasn’t under any amount of undo stress or frustration at work, nor were his new lodgers causing him grief or consternation. Perhaps, he thought as he wandered the streets and found his path leading toward the library, it was simply in the quiets of the day, when his mind and body were not otherwise occupied, that the pull was the strongest. He was proud of himself, still. He walked past several taverns and not once did his feet hesitate to carry him away from the source of temptation. He could feel the alcohol burning the back of his throat, though, as if he’d just taken a shot of whisky and it made him sick to his stomach. This was not the first time he’d felt the pull in the quiet stillness. He’d never broken, but even to feel that temptation felt as though it was a defeat. Every step away from the taverns that he took did not feel like a victory march, but a shame-filled trudge through a trench of misery and failure. His hands still longed for the touch of a bottle. He’d caught himself several times rubbing his fingers together as if they were trying to force open a corked jar. It filled him with shame. How could he have let himself fall so far? How could he have allowed himself to live like that?
He never told his son about his troubles, the boy was already nervous enough having a father who was an active participant in his life again, nor did he tell any of his lodgers. They were young and full of life still, the didn’t need to be burdened with the short comings of a greying recovering alcoholic. He wouldn’t dream of telling his employer, though she was a fair woman, that might be too much to bear between employer and employed.
In short, Eril had no one to confide in, no one to tell him whether he was failing or succeeding and he was so conflicted by all the different things he felt that he himself had no idea what he was doing.
Perhaps, then, that was why his feet led him as they did to the library.
It was not a place he would have carried himself consciously, so it made a certain amount of sense that he carried himself there unconsciously. Maybe there would be something or someone in there that could point in him a direction, any direction. He felt lost in his daily battle with thirst. His sobriety was important to him, it was part of the pledge he’d made to himself, his son, and the memory of his wife, but each day he felt like he was drowning just a little more. Hopelessness, the most insidious of emotions, began to creep in and whisper alongside the whisky. It told him none of any of this mattered, whether he was drunk or sober, dead or alive, sane or mad. That little whisper grew louder and more insistent with each passing day.
The library was large, larger than the Houses of Healing. It was so massive that the very steps of the place threatened to swallow him whole, to disappear him into a pocket of nowhere until his memory was utterly forgotten. The doors to the library looked like a yawning beast, the maw of which was wrung round with teeth ready to shred him down to his soul. And yet, yet, he did not feel afraid of it. Eril had never seen a bear or a lion out in the wilds, but he imagined encountering them must feel something like this. He took a deep breath, felt his lungs expand in his chest to their utter fullness, and let the air out slowly. His hands had been shaking and his mouth was suddenly so drink he coughed. He recovered himself, took another breath, and entered.
The building was even larger on the inside. He wasn’t sure how, but the place loomed over him and as he looked up at the vaulted ceilings he felt a sense of vertigo, like he was about to fly off the ground and fall into the ceiling. It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling. He stared at the floor the further he walked in.
There were books inside. So many books. More books that Eril knew what to do with. How could there be so many books? They lined the walls from floor to ceiling. It was maddening, it was inconceivable that there could be so many books in a single place. The world was old, he knew, but he didn’t think all the time in the world would be enough to read all these things. He didn’t know where to start, didn’t know how to start. Did he just pick up a book at random and start reading? Did he ask for help? Did he stare like a slackjawed country bumpkin until someone escorted him out on suspicion of being drunk?
“Eril, what have you gotten yourself into?” he muttered quietly.
"We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood. Our eyes have yet to open... Fear the Old Blood..."
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@Romeran
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
"Pleased to meet you sir," Duinion smiled, curious about the name. Man of the East? He'd only ever heard bad things about the East, and wondered why anyone would want to travel there, but it seemed this man, Indo, had gone there and knew a lot about those places. "I'm Duinion," he offered up his own name after a moment's thought, remembering that was only polite. "The rangers?" He caught part of what the man had said, a moment late. "You know the rangers? Are you one of them?" His hazel eyes widened with curiosity. "My friend's brother is a ranger, he tells such wonderful stories. It must be very exciting, being a ranger!" He remembered a fraction too late that he ought to keep his voice down, and swiftly cast a glance toward the front desk. The librarian had shot him a glare and he fidgeted, but no scolding came. Apparently the librarian was too busy to bother coming over there.
Lowering his voice back to a hushed tone, he added, still eagerly, "I might join up, someday. When I'm old enough." He hadn't fully decided, as he still had some time to think on it, but it was definitely one of the options he had considered. It had also crossed his mind to just take off and go traveling, but then.. he hadn't quite figured out how he would get money to keep himself fed if he did that. A traveler would need some means of obtaining money for expenses, but he hadn't really thought that hard upon it.
Mention of a real dragon gave him pause, and he looked a little surprised to hear this. He had surely heard these stories before, but... "There's a dragon in that?" burst out before had taken time to think first. Having paid very little attention to the teacher, of course. he hadn't retained very much from his lessons. It was hard to do when every word out of that adult's mouth sounded monotonous and dull, and hardly worth listening to. "I remember something about a worm but I don't remember anyone mentioning a dragon." he frowned, wondering what other exciting details his teacher had left out. Glancing toward the history book on the table, he wondered whether it might hold any secret excitement.
Still, he wasn't sure why anyone would seek out a dull history book when there were many more exciting ones to be found... but the stranger's words explained something that made a bit of sense. Not wanting to repeat past mistakes, that sounded reasonable. "Oh, yes. That makes sense." he nodded thoughtfully. "I was supposed to study a list of all the kings, and then all the stewards since then, in my lessons." he added as an afterthought, upon the mention of kings. 'Supposed to' and 'did' were very different things, of course, and he had found it far more interesting to doodle on his page and stare out of the window, thinking about what sort of adventures he would have later with his friend. "Do you think there'll ever be a king again?" he wondered, since the topic of kings had arisen. "I wish we would, a king'd make everything better," He declared. Still, he had to wonder, would a king even bother to spare a thought toward the orphanage? He would surely have a lot more important things to do, surely, but Duinion could only hope.
A sudden thought struck him, and he looked back with great curiosity at Indo. "Are there dragons in the East? Have you ever seen one?" He'd never heard of anyone in his lifetime actually seeing a real live dragon, but then, no one he knew had ever really been beyond the walls, seeing as he mostly knew people his own age, or old ladies that had no interest in adventures. It would be tremendously exciting to be able to say he met someone who'd actually encountered a dragon, and couldn't help hoping for this to be the case here. He'd asked a lot of questions, he realized suddenly, and hoped he wasn't getting on the man's nerves.
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
"Pleased to meet you sir," Duinion smiled, curious about the name. Man of the East? He'd only ever heard bad things about the East, and wondered why anyone would want to travel there, but it seemed this man, Indo, had gone there and knew a lot about those places. "I'm Duinion," he offered up his own name after a moment's thought, remembering that was only polite. "The rangers?" He caught part of what the man had said, a moment late. "You know the rangers? Are you one of them?" His hazel eyes widened with curiosity. "My friend's brother is a ranger, he tells such wonderful stories. It must be very exciting, being a ranger!" He remembered a fraction too late that he ought to keep his voice down, and swiftly cast a glance toward the front desk. The librarian had shot him a glare and he fidgeted, but no scolding came. Apparently the librarian was too busy to bother coming over there.
Lowering his voice back to a hushed tone, he added, still eagerly, "I might join up, someday. When I'm old enough." He hadn't fully decided, as he still had some time to think on it, but it was definitely one of the options he had considered. It had also crossed his mind to just take off and go traveling, but then.. he hadn't quite figured out how he would get money to keep himself fed if he did that. A traveler would need some means of obtaining money for expenses, but he hadn't really thought that hard upon it.
Mention of a real dragon gave him pause, and he looked a little surprised to hear this. He had surely heard these stories before, but... "There's a dragon in that?" burst out before had taken time to think first. Having paid very little attention to the teacher, of course. he hadn't retained very much from his lessons. It was hard to do when every word out of that adult's mouth sounded monotonous and dull, and hardly worth listening to. "I remember something about a worm but I don't remember anyone mentioning a dragon." he frowned, wondering what other exciting details his teacher had left out. Glancing toward the history book on the table, he wondered whether it might hold any secret excitement.
Still, he wasn't sure why anyone would seek out a dull history book when there were many more exciting ones to be found... but the stranger's words explained something that made a bit of sense. Not wanting to repeat past mistakes, that sounded reasonable. "Oh, yes. That makes sense." he nodded thoughtfully. "I was supposed to study a list of all the kings, and then all the stewards since then, in my lessons." he added as an afterthought, upon the mention of kings. 'Supposed to' and 'did' were very different things, of course, and he had found it far more interesting to doodle on his page and stare out of the window, thinking about what sort of adventures he would have later with his friend. "Do you think there'll ever be a king again?" he wondered, since the topic of kings had arisen. "I wish we would, a king'd make everything better," He declared. Still, he had to wonder, would a king even bother to spare a thought toward the orphanage? He would surely have a lot more important things to do, surely, but Duinion could only hope.
A sudden thought struck him, and he looked back with great curiosity at Indo. "Are there dragons in the East? Have you ever seen one?" He'd never heard of anyone in his lifetime actually seeing a real live dragon, but then, no one he knew had ever really been beyond the walls, seeing as he mostly knew people his own age, or old ladies that had no interest in adventures. It would be tremendously exciting to be able to say he met someone who'd actually encountered a dragon, and couldn't help hoping for this to be the case here. He'd asked a lot of questions, he realized suddenly, and hoped he wasn't getting on the man's nerves.
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
"Yes I am a ranger, and you could say it's exciting I suppose" he said, although he wasn't sure whether or not he should be encouraging a child to go into such a dangerous profession, he didn't know who this child was after all. It sounded like Duinion knew at least one other ranger, or knew of one, so at least it might not be entirely his fault if this boy scared his parents by becoming a ranger. He realized very quickly, however, that not everyone had parents they wanted to impress, Indo himself had had his family brutally ripped away from him at a young age and who was he to judge this boy, he was nearly as old as Indo had been when he was left to fend for himself. When the boy expressed interest, independently of any encouragement by Indo, he felt somewhat relieved. "If you have a mind to venture into the wilds, the rangers will teach you how to survive. And if misfortune sets her eyes upon you and danger lies in your path, the rangers will teach you how to defend yourself and those you love." He was not there to recruit for the rangers, they did not do any recruiting at all, but the rangers had been an important part of Indo's life.
It was hard not to laugh at the idea that the child thought that Glauring was the usual sort of worms that you might find in a garden compost bin. It was clear that he had not recognized that the Great Worm was a dragon but without wings, for they had not yet developed wings. "Glaurung was the first dragon, long before they had wings and the likes of Ancalagon the Black flew in the skies. But despite not having wings he was a mighty as he was terrifying and he breathed fire and death followed him like a shadow." he stopped before he might frighten the boy too much. He wondered if Duinion had paid attention enough to know Glaurung's fate or whether he might be concerned that Glaurung was still out there. He decided not to spoil the story either way.
"Study a list of kings and stewards?" he asked incredulously "that sounds awfully dull" in fact is sounded painfully dull, he wondered what sort of teacher would require such nonsense. He couldn't imagine having to commit to memory such a boring list of names. The question of the return of the king was unexpected, although he realized he had been the one to bring up kings. He thought for a moment, letting the boy continue his line of reasoning. In Indo's experience those who ruled were not always those who should rule. Denthor was a wise man, powerful and mighty in his way though he seemed aged even when he was young. But he was not a kind man and was prone to sacrifice when he deemed the outcome sufficiently rewarding it was cold and calculating but was that what made a good king? The chieftains of his people did not make for better role models of an ideal king either. The Gondorians on the other hand tended to hold a high opinion of the kings of the past, as if they were each a noble and altruistic king. He wondered if that would be the case if the king would return. "A man should make his own fate" he said in reply "king or no."
"There were dragons in the east, yes, many dragons" he said, and paused as if to add tension "but there have not been any dragons seen anywhere since Smaug the terrible was killed in 2941, many leagues north of here" he wondered why so many had a fascination with dragons. They were quite marvelous he thought, almost as if they shouldn't be able to exist, what with how large they were and that some of them could fly was particularly impressive. Balrogs always seemed particularly terrifying to Indo, lords of shadow and fire.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
"Yes I am a ranger, and you could say it's exciting I suppose" he said, although he wasn't sure whether or not he should be encouraging a child to go into such a dangerous profession, he didn't know who this child was after all. It sounded like Duinion knew at least one other ranger, or knew of one, so at least it might not be entirely his fault if this boy scared his parents by becoming a ranger. He realized very quickly, however, that not everyone had parents they wanted to impress, Indo himself had had his family brutally ripped away from him at a young age and who was he to judge this boy, he was nearly as old as Indo had been when he was left to fend for himself. When the boy expressed interest, independently of any encouragement by Indo, he felt somewhat relieved. "If you have a mind to venture into the wilds, the rangers will teach you how to survive. And if misfortune sets her eyes upon you and danger lies in your path, the rangers will teach you how to defend yourself and those you love." He was not there to recruit for the rangers, they did not do any recruiting at all, but the rangers had been an important part of Indo's life.
It was hard not to laugh at the idea that the child thought that Glauring was the usual sort of worms that you might find in a garden compost bin. It was clear that he had not recognized that the Great Worm was a dragon but without wings, for they had not yet developed wings. "Glaurung was the first dragon, long before they had wings and the likes of Ancalagon the Black flew in the skies. But despite not having wings he was a mighty as he was terrifying and he breathed fire and death followed him like a shadow." he stopped before he might frighten the boy too much. He wondered if Duinion had paid attention enough to know Glaurung's fate or whether he might be concerned that Glaurung was still out there. He decided not to spoil the story either way.
"Study a list of kings and stewards?" he asked incredulously "that sounds awfully dull" in fact is sounded painfully dull, he wondered what sort of teacher would require such nonsense. He couldn't imagine having to commit to memory such a boring list of names. The question of the return of the king was unexpected, although he realized he had been the one to bring up kings. He thought for a moment, letting the boy continue his line of reasoning. In Indo's experience those who ruled were not always those who should rule. Denthor was a wise man, powerful and mighty in his way though he seemed aged even when he was young. But he was not a kind man and was prone to sacrifice when he deemed the outcome sufficiently rewarding it was cold and calculating but was that what made a good king? The chieftains of his people did not make for better role models of an ideal king either. The Gondorians on the other hand tended to hold a high opinion of the kings of the past, as if they were each a noble and altruistic king. He wondered if that would be the case if the king would return. "A man should make his own fate" he said in reply "king or no."
"There were dragons in the east, yes, many dragons" he said, and paused as if to add tension "but there have not been any dragons seen anywhere since Smaug the terrible was killed in 2941, many leagues north of here" he wondered why so many had a fascination with dragons. They were quite marvelous he thought, almost as if they shouldn't be able to exist, what with how large they were and that some of them could fly was particularly impressive. Balrogs always seemed particularly terrifying to Indo, lords of shadow and fire.
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@Romeran
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
Hearing that the man was, in fact, a ranger, was somehow a little exciting to know. And strange. Somehow, he never really imagined rangers sitting in the library reading about history, he imagined them roaming around in the woods, fighting bandits and orcs and stuff. It was an interesting realization, that simply being a ranger didn't mean one would spend all their time in the wilds. Seeing as the only rangers he knew were Addhor and a few of his friends, well, that wasn't the same since he already knew those people before they were rangers.
He had gone quiet as he thought about that and listened to the man speak more about this Glaurung. He'd heard that name before, and now hearing more about it made the tale sound far more exciting to read about. The boy's eyes grew rounder the more Indo spoke about this fearsome dragon. "He breathed fire? I don't think the teacher said that part!" If he did, Duinion hadn't heard it, which was very likely but also just as likely that the teacher simply hadn't bothered to mention it. Duinion was very eager now to talk to Dom when he got finished with his own schooling for the day, and ask if he knew about this.. being a couple of years older and having a much better teacher, he probably did. Maybe, instead, Duinion could try to find the book and read it for himself, if it wasn't too dull reading.
It was nice to hear that the man agreed about the methods of his teacher being dull. "It's horribly dull!" He agreed, relieved that someone else shared the view, besides the other children. He was going to add something else, but the next words Indo spoke stopped him. "A man should make his own fate, king or no." The words struck a chord in a way stranger could not have known it would. Somewhat caught off guard by that statement, Duinion gazed back at him, thinking hard on that. "Make his own fate..." He repeated softly under his breath, nodding slowly. He smiled faintly, liking the way that sounded.
"There were dragons in the east, yes, many dragons," This news was a bit alarming and he widened his eyes yet again, wondering if the enemies in the east might have trained these dragons and were gathering together a horrible force with which to attack Gondor, but the next portion brought forth a tiny sigh of relief. No more dragons now. "That's good," He answered. "They're exciting to read about, but I sure wouldn't want to meet one, for real. I wonder if they really talked?" He tried to imagine that, and decided it was quite a good thing that there were no more dragons, at least none that anyone knew about. Who knows though, he thought with a small frown, what sort of terrors the Enemy might be breeding over there in Mordor?
After a brief moment longer, thinking, he reached a decision. "I think I'm going to try and find that book, the one about Hurin and the first dragon. You don't know where I could find it, do you?" He wondered, glancing around at the nearby shelves. If Indo had found the history book he was currently reading, he might be familiar with where the other was, after all. But he'd hang onto the ones he already had selected. If that book turned out to be as dull as he feared it might be, he could always grab one of the fictional books to read, instead.
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
Hearing that the man was, in fact, a ranger, was somehow a little exciting to know. And strange. Somehow, he never really imagined rangers sitting in the library reading about history, he imagined them roaming around in the woods, fighting bandits and orcs and stuff. It was an interesting realization, that simply being a ranger didn't mean one would spend all their time in the wilds. Seeing as the only rangers he knew were Addhor and a few of his friends, well, that wasn't the same since he already knew those people before they were rangers.
He had gone quiet as he thought about that and listened to the man speak more about this Glaurung. He'd heard that name before, and now hearing more about it made the tale sound far more exciting to read about. The boy's eyes grew rounder the more Indo spoke about this fearsome dragon. "He breathed fire? I don't think the teacher said that part!" If he did, Duinion hadn't heard it, which was very likely but also just as likely that the teacher simply hadn't bothered to mention it. Duinion was very eager now to talk to Dom when he got finished with his own schooling for the day, and ask if he knew about this.. being a couple of years older and having a much better teacher, he probably did. Maybe, instead, Duinion could try to find the book and read it for himself, if it wasn't too dull reading.
It was nice to hear that the man agreed about the methods of his teacher being dull. "It's horribly dull!" He agreed, relieved that someone else shared the view, besides the other children. He was going to add something else, but the next words Indo spoke stopped him. "A man should make his own fate, king or no." The words struck a chord in a way stranger could not have known it would. Somewhat caught off guard by that statement, Duinion gazed back at him, thinking hard on that. "Make his own fate..." He repeated softly under his breath, nodding slowly. He smiled faintly, liking the way that sounded.
"There were dragons in the east, yes, many dragons," This news was a bit alarming and he widened his eyes yet again, wondering if the enemies in the east might have trained these dragons and were gathering together a horrible force with which to attack Gondor, but the next portion brought forth a tiny sigh of relief. No more dragons now. "That's good," He answered. "They're exciting to read about, but I sure wouldn't want to meet one, for real. I wonder if they really talked?" He tried to imagine that, and decided it was quite a good thing that there were no more dragons, at least none that anyone knew about. Who knows though, he thought with a small frown, what sort of terrors the Enemy might be breeding over there in Mordor?
After a brief moment longer, thinking, he reached a decision. "I think I'm going to try and find that book, the one about Hurin and the first dragon. You don't know where I could find it, do you?" He wondered, glancing around at the nearby shelves. If Indo had found the history book he was currently reading, he might be familiar with where the other was, after all. But he'd hang onto the ones he already had selected. If that book turned out to be as dull as he feared it might be, he could always grab one of the fictional books to read, instead.
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Istari Sage
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
What a horrible lecture it must have been to be about Glaurung and either fail to mention that he breathed fire -- which would be impressive given the story -- or to tell the story in such a horribly dull manner that the listener did not remember that there was a dragon or that said dragon breathed fire. In any case, Indo couldn't help but smile "Yes, he breathed fire. He was a most terrible beast" he said, in truth, it was no small part in Túrin's fame that he had slain the dragon. Indo for one was glad that there were no dragons left to face, for they were fearsome, foul, and evil beasts entirely.
It seemed that Indo's words about fate had an effect on the boy. It had been a mantra of his for a long time, ever since he had heard it himself from a wise old man, it had connected with Indo as an boy only recently orphaned. Almost comforting. He wondered what this child's background was such that such a statement would have a similar impact on him. Or perhaps it was just a profound piece of old wisdom. Indo considered for a moment asking this boy about himself, where were his parents anyway? He quickly decided against this particular line of questioning after realizing it would almost guarantee returning to the conversation of Indo's parents and his being an Easterling. His curiosity about the boy would have to wait for another time.
There was another strike against this history teacher of Duinion's. "Of course the dragons talked." he said to the boy's wondering "Glaurung talks with Túrin during the Narn, perhaps your teacher also omitted that part?" he asked, although he also wondered if perhaps Duinion had been convinced the stories weren't going to be any good from the start and consequently had not paid any attention whatsoever. "And no, you most certainly would not want to come face to face with a dragon" he said with a smile, the boy was certainly correct about that part. Much stirred in the lands of the East and even in Mordor itself recently ever since the attack on Dol Guldur nearly sixty years prior. There was something amiss, but Indo was not sure what.
The library at Minas Tirith was large, although Indo did not have much frame of reference for the size of libraries as they did not have them where he came from. Indo had spent a great deal of time there, however, having enjoyed having access to so much information. "I do in fact" he said and walked towards the section of books on the first age. The Narn was one of the more famous stories of that time and of course being the story of man rather than elf meant that the library kept several copies. There were two left, in fact, when Indo arrived at the shelf for the appropriate time. He picked out one of the tomes, it was a rather sizeable book, he had forgotten just how long the story was, but given that the boy had already chosen a stack of books he didn't think that Duinion would be too daunted by it. Indo reached down and handed him the book. "I promise it's worth reading" he didn't mention that it had a horribly sad ending, he wasn't sure if the boy would remember it from school. That didn't change that it was still one of Indo's favorite stories.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
What a horrible lecture it must have been to be about Glaurung and either fail to mention that he breathed fire -- which would be impressive given the story -- or to tell the story in such a horribly dull manner that the listener did not remember that there was a dragon or that said dragon breathed fire. In any case, Indo couldn't help but smile "Yes, he breathed fire. He was a most terrible beast" he said, in truth, it was no small part in Túrin's fame that he had slain the dragon. Indo for one was glad that there were no dragons left to face, for they were fearsome, foul, and evil beasts entirely.
It seemed that Indo's words about fate had an effect on the boy. It had been a mantra of his for a long time, ever since he had heard it himself from a wise old man, it had connected with Indo as an boy only recently orphaned. Almost comforting. He wondered what this child's background was such that such a statement would have a similar impact on him. Or perhaps it was just a profound piece of old wisdom. Indo considered for a moment asking this boy about himself, where were his parents anyway? He quickly decided against this particular line of questioning after realizing it would almost guarantee returning to the conversation of Indo's parents and his being an Easterling. His curiosity about the boy would have to wait for another time.
There was another strike against this history teacher of Duinion's. "Of course the dragons talked." he said to the boy's wondering "Glaurung talks with Túrin during the Narn, perhaps your teacher also omitted that part?" he asked, although he also wondered if perhaps Duinion had been convinced the stories weren't going to be any good from the start and consequently had not paid any attention whatsoever. "And no, you most certainly would not want to come face to face with a dragon" he said with a smile, the boy was certainly correct about that part. Much stirred in the lands of the East and even in Mordor itself recently ever since the attack on Dol Guldur nearly sixty years prior. There was something amiss, but Indo was not sure what.
The library at Minas Tirith was large, although Indo did not have much frame of reference for the size of libraries as they did not have them where he came from. Indo had spent a great deal of time there, however, having enjoyed having access to so much information. "I do in fact" he said and walked towards the section of books on the first age. The Narn was one of the more famous stories of that time and of course being the story of man rather than elf meant that the library kept several copies. There were two left, in fact, when Indo arrived at the shelf for the appropriate time. He picked out one of the tomes, it was a rather sizeable book, he had forgotten just how long the story was, but given that the boy had already chosen a stack of books he didn't think that Duinion would be too daunted by it. Indo reached down and handed him the book. "I promise it's worth reading" he didn't mention that it had a horribly sad ending, he wasn't sure if the boy would remember it from school. That didn't change that it was still one of Indo's favorite stories.
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Steward of Gondor
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@Romeran
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
It sounded like some sort of made up tale that he'd find in his fictional books, Duinion thought as he listened to the man speak about this dragon Glaurung. Dragons talked? That was incredible, it sounded like fiction. But it was history? How did the teacher manage to leave out all the interesting bits and only talk about the dull things? He could hardly believe it. In fact, in the last couple of years he had begun to get more and more frustrated with how many things he didn't know that other people did. Things he ought to have learned, but hadn't. Sometimes he skimmed through Dom's old schoolbooks but it was far more interesting to read the fiction books, like the ones he had selected earlier.
Now, with his curiosity piqued concerning this Glaurung, Duinion eagerly followed Indo down the rows of bookshelves. He was glad the man knew right where to find the book, or he would have been wandering hopelessly for some time, wasting time that could have been better spent reading. There were two copies of the book on the shelves. Watching Indo take one of them down and offer it to him, Duinion smiled, taking it. "Thanks, sir." He looked curiously at the book. It just looked like a regular old history book, but Indo promised it was worth reading. Duinion nodded, filled with curiosity by now.
It looked too thick to read all at once right now, and he had to think for a moment. Perhaps he might be able to stash it at Dom's house until he'd finished with it. He knew better than to bring anything like a book home to the orphanage, as it was almost certain to get damaged. "I can't wait to read all about the dragon and everything," He grinned back up at Indo. "Maybe, if I see you in here again, you can tell me about another book?" He wasn't sure if that would be alright, and certainly didn't want to be a bother, but it seemed there may be a great number of books that were far more interesting than they seemed.
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
It sounded like some sort of made up tale that he'd find in his fictional books, Duinion thought as he listened to the man speak about this dragon Glaurung. Dragons talked? That was incredible, it sounded like fiction. But it was history? How did the teacher manage to leave out all the interesting bits and only talk about the dull things? He could hardly believe it. In fact, in the last couple of years he had begun to get more and more frustrated with how many things he didn't know that other people did. Things he ought to have learned, but hadn't. Sometimes he skimmed through Dom's old schoolbooks but it was far more interesting to read the fiction books, like the ones he had selected earlier.
Now, with his curiosity piqued concerning this Glaurung, Duinion eagerly followed Indo down the rows of bookshelves. He was glad the man knew right where to find the book, or he would have been wandering hopelessly for some time, wasting time that could have been better spent reading. There were two copies of the book on the shelves. Watching Indo take one of them down and offer it to him, Duinion smiled, taking it. "Thanks, sir." He looked curiously at the book. It just looked like a regular old history book, but Indo promised it was worth reading. Duinion nodded, filled with curiosity by now.
It looked too thick to read all at once right now, and he had to think for a moment. Perhaps he might be able to stash it at Dom's house until he'd finished with it. He knew better than to bring anything like a book home to the orphanage, as it was almost certain to get damaged. "I can't wait to read all about the dragon and everything," He grinned back up at Indo. "Maybe, if I see you in here again, you can tell me about another book?" He wasn't sure if that would be alright, and certainly didn't want to be a bother, but it seemed there may be a great number of books that were far more interesting than they seemed.
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Indo Rómeran
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
There weren’t many children around the ranger quarters and Indo didn’t spend much time around children in general. He wasn’t sure how to act around them. He had been a child himself of course but that was a long time ago and one tends to forget what it’s like to be a child. He tended to treat them like adults, that seemed to bother some people who for some reason didn’t think that the children could handle it. But Indo had always wanted adults to treat him like an adult and not a child, or at least that’s what he remembered.
“You’re welcome, Duinion” he said his name in an attempt to remember it. If the boy frequented the library with any consistency he was likely to run into Indo there eventually. His duties as a ranger meant he wasn’t often in the city but when he was there he enjoyed the quiet halls of the library over the bustle of the pubs and taverns. “Don’t judge Túrin too harshly” he warned as he handed the boy the book. It was was to judge especially when one has the benefit of detachment both in time and in place. But at the time of the decisions that a person faces there is not the benefit of such detachment.
“If you come to the library often enough then you may see me here. My duties keep me afield frequently but I come to the library whenever I am in the city. If you finish the Narn I will happily recommend another story for you. There are many exciting tales in our history” he said, he was already mentally composing a list of possible stories. The fall of Gondolin was another favorite and involved Túrin’s cousin. Or perhaps a tale from the second age like the Mariner’s wife, although they might be a bit boring for a boy if his age, maybe Of Cirion and Eorl.
Indo walked back with the boy from where they had found the Narn to where the table where their books laid and Indo sat back down in his seat. The large history volume he was reading had remained undisturbed and the librarian didn’t seem terribly irritated that they had wandered off. The candles were burning down slowly and the spikes indicated that it was now getting late into the afternoon. Indo would still likely stay for another few hours of reading before seeking out a small meal for dinner.
The Library c. TA 3000
@Rillewen
There weren’t many children around the ranger quarters and Indo didn’t spend much time around children in general. He wasn’t sure how to act around them. He had been a child himself of course but that was a long time ago and one tends to forget what it’s like to be a child. He tended to treat them like adults, that seemed to bother some people who for some reason didn’t think that the children could handle it. But Indo had always wanted adults to treat him like an adult and not a child, or at least that’s what he remembered.
“You’re welcome, Duinion” he said his name in an attempt to remember it. If the boy frequented the library with any consistency he was likely to run into Indo there eventually. His duties as a ranger meant he wasn’t often in the city but when he was there he enjoyed the quiet halls of the library over the bustle of the pubs and taverns. “Don’t judge Túrin too harshly” he warned as he handed the boy the book. It was was to judge especially when one has the benefit of detachment both in time and in place. But at the time of the decisions that a person faces there is not the benefit of such detachment.
“If you come to the library often enough then you may see me here. My duties keep me afield frequently but I come to the library whenever I am in the city. If you finish the Narn I will happily recommend another story for you. There are many exciting tales in our history” he said, he was already mentally composing a list of possible stories. The fall of Gondolin was another favorite and involved Túrin’s cousin. Or perhaps a tale from the second age like the Mariner’s wife, although they might be a bit boring for a boy if his age, maybe Of Cirion and Eorl.
Indo walked back with the boy from where they had found the Narn to where the table where their books laid and Indo sat back down in his seat. The large history volume he was reading had remained undisturbed and the librarian didn’t seem terribly irritated that they had wandered off. The candles were burning down slowly and the spikes indicated that it was now getting late into the afternoon. Indo would still likely stay for another few hours of reading before seeking out a small meal for dinner.
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@Romeran
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
Duinion gave a nod, trying to keep in mind the advice not to judge Turin too harshly. He was sure he'd figure out what he meant when he read, but for now he was only a little confused by it. His curiosity had grown so intense, he was already opening the book and starting to take a peek at the first few lines before Indo had spoken up to reply to what he'd asked. Glancing up, Duinion smiled, pleased to hear that he didn't seem to mind if he talked with him again sometime. "I do come here fairly often. I've seen you here a few times before... I'm not usually very noticeable," He added with a small shrug, in case Indo might begin wondering why he'd not noticed Duinion before, as Dui assumed he hadn't. No one ever really paid much attention to orphan kids, he figured.
Following him back to the table, Duinion gathered up the rest of his stack of books, thinking he might put a few of the others back... maybe all but one, in case the Turin one turned out too dull after all, so he'd have a backup. "It was nice meeting you, Indo, sir." He spoke quietly, seeing the man was returning now to his book. After a few minutes trying to find the places he had originally found the other books, he returned all but one of them to the shelves and then went looking for a candle-lit spot where he could sit and read, without further disturbing Indo or anyone else.
(End)
Duinion - age 12
The Library, TA 3000
Duinion gave a nod, trying to keep in mind the advice not to judge Turin too harshly. He was sure he'd figure out what he meant when he read, but for now he was only a little confused by it. His curiosity had grown so intense, he was already opening the book and starting to take a peek at the first few lines before Indo had spoken up to reply to what he'd asked. Glancing up, Duinion smiled, pleased to hear that he didn't seem to mind if he talked with him again sometime. "I do come here fairly often. I've seen you here a few times before... I'm not usually very noticeable," He added with a small shrug, in case Indo might begin wondering why he'd not noticed Duinion before, as Dui assumed he hadn't. No one ever really paid much attention to orphan kids, he figured.
Following him back to the table, Duinion gathered up the rest of his stack of books, thinking he might put a few of the others back... maybe all but one, in case the Turin one turned out too dull after all, so he'd have a backup. "It was nice meeting you, Indo, sir." He spoke quietly, seeing the man was returning now to his book. After a few minutes trying to find the places he had originally found the other books, he returned all but one of them to the shelves and then went looking for a candle-lit spot where he could sit and read, without further disturbing Indo or anyone else.
(End)
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Hathaldir with Strawberry (@Rillewen)
Every letter of his brother’s name he inked upon the page felt as though it carved through his heart, impressing the permanence of the loss upon him once more. And in its wake, the promise he made. He would find those responsible and he would make them pay. It was the only promise that mattered. Clearing the girl’s name was an empty offer he had no intention of following through on. Hathaldir would entertain the idea to her so long as it served him. Her problems with the law and the crooked guard were not his concern if she did her job right.
As he listened, her story about the guard sparked a new question. Was it possible…? Could Tandarion’s murderer be someone like Hathaldir, hiding in plain sight, masked by a uniform? There was only one way to find out. He needed that file and he needed to identify and interrogate this other crooked guard.
“Clever man,” he mused, half to himself, running his fingers along his chin. “To use you as a scapegoat.” Raising his voice, he addressed Strawberry directly. “He sounds like a Lieutenant to me. I’ll find him.” Teeth flashing white, he grinned at her but his eyes were as dark as the night. “And perhaps he and I will have a little talk.” ‘Little talk’ was said with such menace it left little to the imagination.
He studied the trail her fingers took over the map and tamped down his impatient, restless energy and the drive to act sooner, to rush in without a plan. Everything had to be carefully calculated if he wanted to succeed. “It is guarded day and night,” he answered. “Meet me at The Roquen Express office at noon in a fortnight. I will give you the guard patrols’ details then.” There was no room for choice or negotiation in his tone.
With that, Hathaldir stood, bringing their meeting to an end. “If you must reach me in the meantime…leave a message with the innkeeper at the Blind Raven Inn. Third Circle. I trust you can find it.” He stressed, bordering on a growl, “The innkeeper only, no one else.” He waved his hand at the stacked posters bearing her face and crimes. “I’ll let you dispose of those, little Fox.”
Leaving the books strewn across the table for someone else to deal with, he crossed the small, dusty room to open the door and leave.
Every letter of his brother’s name he inked upon the page felt as though it carved through his heart, impressing the permanence of the loss upon him once more. And in its wake, the promise he made. He would find those responsible and he would make them pay. It was the only promise that mattered. Clearing the girl’s name was an empty offer he had no intention of following through on. Hathaldir would entertain the idea to her so long as it served him. Her problems with the law and the crooked guard were not his concern if she did her job right.
As he listened, her story about the guard sparked a new question. Was it possible…? Could Tandarion’s murderer be someone like Hathaldir, hiding in plain sight, masked by a uniform? There was only one way to find out. He needed that file and he needed to identify and interrogate this other crooked guard.
“Clever man,” he mused, half to himself, running his fingers along his chin. “To use you as a scapegoat.” Raising his voice, he addressed Strawberry directly. “He sounds like a Lieutenant to me. I’ll find him.” Teeth flashing white, he grinned at her but his eyes were as dark as the night. “And perhaps he and I will have a little talk.” ‘Little talk’ was said with such menace it left little to the imagination.
He studied the trail her fingers took over the map and tamped down his impatient, restless energy and the drive to act sooner, to rush in without a plan. Everything had to be carefully calculated if he wanted to succeed. “It is guarded day and night,” he answered. “Meet me at The Roquen Express office at noon in a fortnight. I will give you the guard patrols’ details then.” There was no room for choice or negotiation in his tone.
With that, Hathaldir stood, bringing their meeting to an end. “If you must reach me in the meantime…leave a message with the innkeeper at the Blind Raven Inn. Third Circle. I trust you can find it.” He stressed, bordering on a growl, “The innkeeper only, no one else.” He waved his hand at the stacked posters bearing her face and crimes. “I’ll let you dispose of those, little Fox.”
Leaving the books strewn across the table for someone else to deal with, he crossed the small, dusty room to open the door and leave.
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@Kirinki
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
Clever? A soft snort escaped her, scoffing at the complimentary term given to her greatest adversary. "Maybe..til it comes back to bite him." She shrugged, tucking the map away with a small smile at the way he said 'a little talk'. That would be worth watching, maybe, if she didn't need to keep clear of the guy. Maybe he'd tell her how it all went, but somehow she doubted it. Too bad. At least she had something more to add to her description of him. Leu..whatever that word was. She decided not to try and repeat it, since she would probably mess up the pronunciation and he'd laugh at her for it. "So... I'm just curious," She mentioned as a thought struck her. "Why can't you just get yourself assigned to guard the room, and get what you need once everyone's gone?" She thought that seemed a far more logical plan, knowing little of how the guard duties were actually assigned and such.
His instructions on where to meet him sort of mingled in with where to go if she needed to contact him, and she paused for a moment. She wasn't planning to have any contact with him til the planned meeting, so she tried to disregard the one. Ro-something express, in...a fortnight? She was surprised, having thought he'd want this all done much quicker. Plus, that meant she had to stick around in town for two whole weeks, just doing nothing. She was tempted to protest, but then...she was the one who wanted to know the guard's patrol patterns. It'd probably take him a while to study those, and get familiar with them. She held back a sigh, then noticed he was preparing to leave. She suddenly remembered she had another bit of business with him, and stepped quickly in front of the door to block his way.
"Hold on a minute," She held up a hand in a 'wait' manner. "I have something for you," Digging into her pack, she pulled out a large book, letting it thud onto the table, and let him see the top of another just like it still in her pack. "It's pretty important.. so you better make sure it gets turned in. One of your guard buddies will be expecting it." She smiled 'innocently', figuring he might not like it too well, but he'd have to deal with it. She was bluffing about that, hoping to prevent him from getting rid of the evidence to pretend he didn't ever get it. She was taking a bit of a chance here, but he had already made it quite clear that he needed her, so he didn't dare arrest her. "The ledgers you were looking for, I think? One's the decoy she made, and the other is the real one. It should give you plenty of evidence against that horrid laundry woman." She slid the other one toward him, a little smirk trying to tug at the corner of her mouth. "I heard you'd arrested some girl..with red hair. I think you made a mistake... I'm the thief, not her. She must have mentioned that someone else stole those coins for her...right?" With that, she swiftly slipped out of the room to disappear into the shadows, leaving him to think on that, and hopefully grow some doubts about whether Thea was innocent or not. And, also, hopefully not get lost in the dark library.
Strawberry
(dressed as a boy)
Clever? A soft snort escaped her, scoffing at the complimentary term given to her greatest adversary. "Maybe..til it comes back to bite him." She shrugged, tucking the map away with a small smile at the way he said 'a little talk'. That would be worth watching, maybe, if she didn't need to keep clear of the guy. Maybe he'd tell her how it all went, but somehow she doubted it. Too bad. At least she had something more to add to her description of him. Leu..whatever that word was. She decided not to try and repeat it, since she would probably mess up the pronunciation and he'd laugh at her for it. "So... I'm just curious," She mentioned as a thought struck her. "Why can't you just get yourself assigned to guard the room, and get what you need once everyone's gone?" She thought that seemed a far more logical plan, knowing little of how the guard duties were actually assigned and such.
His instructions on where to meet him sort of mingled in with where to go if she needed to contact him, and she paused for a moment. She wasn't planning to have any contact with him til the planned meeting, so she tried to disregard the one. Ro-something express, in...a fortnight? She was surprised, having thought he'd want this all done much quicker. Plus, that meant she had to stick around in town for two whole weeks, just doing nothing. She was tempted to protest, but then...she was the one who wanted to know the guard's patrol patterns. It'd probably take him a while to study those, and get familiar with them. She held back a sigh, then noticed he was preparing to leave. She suddenly remembered she had another bit of business with him, and stepped quickly in front of the door to block his way.
"Hold on a minute," She held up a hand in a 'wait' manner. "I have something for you," Digging into her pack, she pulled out a large book, letting it thud onto the table, and let him see the top of another just like it still in her pack. "It's pretty important.. so you better make sure it gets turned in. One of your guard buddies will be expecting it." She smiled 'innocently', figuring he might not like it too well, but he'd have to deal with it. She was bluffing about that, hoping to prevent him from getting rid of the evidence to pretend he didn't ever get it. She was taking a bit of a chance here, but he had already made it quite clear that he needed her, so he didn't dare arrest her. "The ledgers you were looking for, I think? One's the decoy she made, and the other is the real one. It should give you plenty of evidence against that horrid laundry woman." She slid the other one toward him, a little smirk trying to tug at the corner of her mouth. "I heard you'd arrested some girl..with red hair. I think you made a mistake... I'm the thief, not her. She must have mentioned that someone else stole those coins for her...right?" With that, she swiftly slipped out of the room to disappear into the shadows, leaving him to think on that, and hopefully grow some doubts about whether Thea was innocent or not. And, also, hopefully not get lost in the dark library.
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Hathaldir with Strawberry (@Rillewen)
Hathaldir was almost free of her, free of this wretched place, and one step closer to justice and– she dove in his way, blocking the door with her tiny frame. He hissed out a sigh and gnashed his teeth together, resisting the urge to shove her aside and slam the door in her face.
What impertinent questions. As if he had not considered it and ruled the option out already! Did she think he was a complete and utter fool? Of course he could, but on his own watch, too many questions would lead back to himself. This way, the incriminating evidence would never trace back to him and she could be a scapegoat.
“I do not need to answer to you, little girl,” he spat, barely glancing at the book she displayed with pride. “Ledgers? What ledg–” His brows rose, eyes widening as confusion gave way to realization.
Oh son of a baggins.
Not those ledgers! She didn’t, she couldn’t– how did she get her dirty little paws on those?! How did she even know?
“Thank you,” he growled, glowering in spite of his words as he tore the books off the table.
Horrid laundry woman was the biggest understatement of the year, possibly even the decade. He had conveniently “forgotten” about the ledgers, thrown the girl in gaol, case closed, duty done, and then this girl he twisted around his finger had somehow, unbelievably, gotten involved. Claimed to have been involved, in fact.
Hathaldir kicked the leg of the table and grunted as his toe throbbed in retribution. He swore under his breath and tucked the ledgers beneath his coat before leaving the library.
That foul loathsome laundress and a pair of scrawny red-haired thieves had managed to tarnish this victory. How he cursed the day they crossed his path.
Hathaldir was almost free of her, free of this wretched place, and one step closer to justice and– she dove in his way, blocking the door with her tiny frame. He hissed out a sigh and gnashed his teeth together, resisting the urge to shove her aside and slam the door in her face.
What impertinent questions. As if he had not considered it and ruled the option out already! Did she think he was a complete and utter fool? Of course he could, but on his own watch, too many questions would lead back to himself. This way, the incriminating evidence would never trace back to him and she could be a scapegoat.
“I do not need to answer to you, little girl,” he spat, barely glancing at the book she displayed with pride. “Ledgers? What ledg–” His brows rose, eyes widening as confusion gave way to realization.
Oh son of a baggins.
Not those ledgers! She didn’t, she couldn’t– how did she get her dirty little paws on those?! How did she even know?
“Thank you,” he growled, glowering in spite of his words as he tore the books off the table.
Horrid laundry woman was the biggest understatement of the year, possibly even the decade. He had conveniently “forgotten” about the ledgers, thrown the girl in gaol, case closed, duty done, and then this girl he twisted around his finger had somehow, unbelievably, gotten involved. Claimed to have been involved, in fact.
Hathaldir kicked the leg of the table and grunted as his toe throbbed in retribution. He swore under his breath and tucked the ledgers beneath his coat before leaving the library.
That foul loathsome laundress and a pair of scrawny red-haired thieves had managed to tarnish this victory. How he cursed the day they crossed his path.
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Iole Ishen, Surprised to find Unalmis Raxëlilta
Studying ? Wait .. what ?
The Library was a foundation of wonder, not only the ornate architecture, but all the treasured knowledge which it encompassed within. Still Iole had not expected to surprise at this latest ‘wonder’. She blinked and waited for a moment to be certain that she was not seeing things, before heading over in hope of an explanation.
“You are in the library,” she marvelled aloud. At the young man she would have, before now, counted least of all likely to be ever found there.
“You say that like I wouldn’t realise until you pointed it out,” Unalmis grinned slowly, before glancing up to .. try and hold his friend’s attention, while he slipped a pair of pieces of parchment out of sight beneath a book.
“What are you doing ?” the young woman proved herself wily enough to recognise his suspicious behaviour. She glanced with meaning to his hands, one of which got trapped on it’s way out from underneath the heavy book. “You never come to the library,” she furthered her cause for interrogation.
“So it’s the last place anyone would look for me then, isn’t it ?” the young man smiled, shaking out his smarting fingers on that one hand, unashamedly now. “Why are you here ?”
“Poetry,” Iole clarified with a simple word which was immediately accepted. Of course, she did love her poetry. “And .. don’t change the subject ! What is this ..?” Endeavouring to read the book titles, upside down, from where she stood, blue eyes widened slowly. “Locksmithing and related mechanical mastery .. Nal ?” The sentence presented itself as a question but sounded rather more like a disapproval.
“Calm your overactive imagination,” he laughed, rather more loudly than was acceptable, and earned a hissing “Shh !” from a passing white-bearded, librarian, who pointed out the signs calling for silence in the study areas, for good measure. “What do you think, that I am planning to break into Lieutenant Brian’s office and recover confiscated goods ?” Nal rolled his eyes, as though to shake off all and any speculation.
His friend narrowed her gaze, and folded two thin arms, suggesting that the possibility had just risen to the top of her list. With a sigh, the young Ranger retrieved the hidden parchments and handed them over, wordlessly. Iole received both, read and re-read both, before placing them back down on the table.
“These are love letters,” she deduced, and did not look any further impressed or satisfied by the explanation.
“One for Lieutenant Brian and one for Ms Irma,” Nal shrugged, now there was no cause to even try and hide what he’d been writing. “I’m not going to SEND them,” he made light of the thing, although avoided his friend’s knowing expression. “I just .. he was very rude .. to Eryn. Twice now. And .. I needed to do something to keep myself from .. actually doing something. I swear I just needed to get the thought out of my system.”
Unsure whether or not she wanted to believe him, Iole folded the two pieces of parchment and put them in her pocket. “You weren’t going to send them,” she reminded him, before the young man could protest her interference. “It really bothered you .. about Eryn ?” The question crept out afterwards, as though it did not really invite an answer.
“Don’t start !” Nal sighed, and earned himself a second, and more pronounced this time, “Shhhh” from the same aged librarian. “Poetry is over that way,” the young Ranger concluded, or sought to, their interaction.
Iole pursed her lips. “I know where the poetry is kept,” she said, in a small but annoyed voice. “And I know you. No !” the young woman leaned in to relay this without attracting further wrath from the custodian of books who was still giving them evil looks. “Do not go getting into more trouble. Or .. there’ll be trouble, from me. I’ll give you trouble,” she summed up, rather less wholeheartedly by the end. “I’m being a friend, Nal,” she pointed out, as though it needed doing. “We’re friends, right ?” she planted both feet and refused to leave until he had at least assured her of that much. A sullen nod was the best she was going to get, and she knew it, so was satisfied as much as she could be with that small offer.
Unalmis waited until she had gone at least out of sight, before walking his fingers across the cover of the nearest book. Neither of them had proven of much use, in the end, and given that the trifling entertainment which had succeeded the mission was now lost, there was small reason to delay in returning the rather unhelpful books to the shelf before Iole inevitably came back this way again, to check on him on her way out.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Pele had insisted she take the day off. No ranger duties of any kind. Captain's orders. Which left her with her morning exercises - at home - and then... the whole day to herself. She'd cleaned the whole house top to bottom in what was left of the morning, and had eaten a few sandwiches for lunch. But then what? She had spent the whole morning and noon cooped up indoors already. Arnyn wanted out, if only for a brief walk, or a change of scenery. Or a good distraction. Just something to keep her mind from going over some of the previous evening's events.
Without really setting a destination, her feet had first taken her to the marketplace. But then the mood had struck for something a little different than the crowded shop streets and she'd found her way to the library. After hanging her thick winter cloak on one of the pegs near the librarian's desk, the blue and brown clothed blonde ventured deeper into aisles with rows upon rows of shelves, filled with books. From time to time, her finger drew a lazy line along the spines as she walked, one slow step at a time, seeing if anything caught her interest rather than looking for something specific. When she reached the section on Dol Amroth and Belfalas, she paused. After selecting three tomes, she found one of the candles tables and used the burning candle to light the others, so she would have good enough lighting to study, before diving into the subject matter.
Soon, all three books were open in front of her, and she had her left elbow on the table, hand supporting her head as she read.
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Pele had insisted she take the day off. No ranger duties of any kind. Captain's orders. Which left her with her morning exercises - at home - and then... the whole day to herself. She'd cleaned the whole house top to bottom in what was left of the morning, and had eaten a few sandwiches for lunch. But then what? She had spent the whole morning and noon cooped up indoors already. Arnyn wanted out, if only for a brief walk, or a change of scenery. Or a good distraction. Just something to keep her mind from going over some of the previous evening's events.
Without really setting a destination, her feet had first taken her to the marketplace. But then the mood had struck for something a little different than the crowded shop streets and she'd found her way to the library. After hanging her thick winter cloak on one of the pegs near the librarian's desk, the blue and brown clothed blonde ventured deeper into aisles with rows upon rows of shelves, filled with books. From time to time, her finger drew a lazy line along the spines as she walked, one slow step at a time, seeing if anything caught her interest rather than looking for something specific. When she reached the section on Dol Amroth and Belfalas, she paused. After selecting three tomes, she found one of the candles tables and used the burning candle to light the others, so she would have good enough lighting to study, before diving into the subject matter.
Soon, all three books were open in front of her, and she had her left elbow on the table, hand supporting her head as she read.
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength
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@Arnyn
Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
He had grown tired of waiting outside, as he'd been told. He had whined when she told him to stay, had tried to follow, but had been restricted from entering the enormous building. And she'd been in there for hours. Anything might have happened to her by now, without him to protect her! Chewy let out a sigh as he stared at the huge double doors, waiting. At one point he became distracted, and took off after a cat that had dared to challenge him. After successfully sending the feline up a tree, he barked a couple of times, as if to say, 'Ha!' and then, he realized that he'd left his post.
Hastening back, he took a good sniff around the doors and found that she had not passed through them since early this morning. Good, he hadn't missed her. He laid down and let out a sigh. And then... he got a lucky break. Someone came out of the library. A stranger, but that didn't matter. What mattered was.. the door was open! Chewy launched up to his paws and slipped in through the open doorway before it had closed. Success!
The building was warmer than outside. He could have stayed in the inn with the others, but he was unwilling to leave his human's side. Until she'd ordered him to. And he didn't like that. After sniffing briefly at a white-haired man snoozing behind the desk, Chewy trotted onward, between two tall rows of bookshelves. He stopped to sniff at some now and then, but his desire to find his human was stronger than his desire to chew the leather bindings. So, he went on.
Trying to follow her scent trail was difficult and confusing, because she seemed to have been in every single aisle at some point! He paused at an intersection of aisles, looking this way and that as he tried to determine which way to go. And then, another scent came to his nose. Somewhat familiar, as if he'd met that person before. Cocking his head to one side slightly, Chewy sniffed the air, then began to follow this new, or rather old, scent.
As he emerged into an area with tables, Chewy stood for a moment before the smell and face of the woman returned to his memory. She was a friend, he recalled. She had been nice. Maybe she could help him find his human! Tail wagging, he eagerly went over and put his front paws up on the table's edge near her elbow, and licked her arm in greeting, in hopes she might give him some attention like she had done years ago.
Brooke
A few aisles further down, Brooke was looking for Gwestion. He had said he'd be around, in case she needed him for anything, and now she needed help with getting a book down from a high shelf, and she couldn't find him. Despite the stack of books in her arms that she held in place with her chin, she wanted to see if that other one was as interesting as its title sounded.
Walking to the end of that aisle, she frowned, thinking, then she went back to the spot where the inaccessible book was located. She set the stack of books down there, on the floor, so that they would help mark the spot where she needed help, then she set off to check a few nearby aisles.. if she couldn't find him, then maybe she could find a ladder or something. And if all else failed, she could maybe try climbing the shelf, but she'd rather not if she could help it.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
She looked at the dog who'd appeared at her table with a curious and puzzled look. How did this little fellow get in here? Immediately, the image of the sleeping librarian flashed through her mind. With a crooked smile, she chuckled. Right. The dog was... very friendly, she mused as she slowly reached to pet him with one of her hands. And did he look familiar? "Hey there," she mumbled kindly, and had to laugh a little when he licked her arm. Then the memory finally jumped into place. Bree - Amber - Brooke, and.... Chewy, right? "Chewy?" Arnyn breathed, kind of incredulous.
Then again, Gladhron was here, and so was Gwestion. And she knew they had come with Blossom and her two nieces. Then... one of those two girls must be...
Arnyn shook her head, still in disbelief. "Might you be looking for Brooke? You do know you're not supposed to be in here, right?" she asked the dog with a quiet, friendly voice while gently scratching him behind his ears. "And if Brooke is here, then who else is, hmm?" Looking around, but seeing nothing other than aisles and more aisles filled with books, Arnyn slowly rose from her seat, to crouch down next to Chewy. "Shall we go look for her?" she asked the dog. "Can you smell her? Can you get us started?" When Chewy just looked expectantly at her, wagging his tail, she smiled. "Right." Rising to her full height, she checked none of the candles were too close to the open books on the table. Then thought better of something and closed all three books, tucking them into the crook of her left arm. "Let's go, Chewy." She started them down the end of all the aisles, so she could glance into each one as they passed it, and cover more ground more quickly that way.
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
She looked at the dog who'd appeared at her table with a curious and puzzled look. How did this little fellow get in here? Immediately, the image of the sleeping librarian flashed through her mind. With a crooked smile, she chuckled. Right. The dog was... very friendly, she mused as she slowly reached to pet him with one of her hands. And did he look familiar? "Hey there," she mumbled kindly, and had to laugh a little when he licked her arm. Then the memory finally jumped into place. Bree - Amber - Brooke, and.... Chewy, right? "Chewy?" Arnyn breathed, kind of incredulous.
Then again, Gladhron was here, and so was Gwestion. And she knew they had come with Blossom and her two nieces. Then... one of those two girls must be...
Arnyn shook her head, still in disbelief. "Might you be looking for Brooke? You do know you're not supposed to be in here, right?" she asked the dog with a quiet, friendly voice while gently scratching him behind his ears. "And if Brooke is here, then who else is, hmm?" Looking around, but seeing nothing other than aisles and more aisles filled with books, Arnyn slowly rose from her seat, to crouch down next to Chewy. "Shall we go look for her?" she asked the dog. "Can you smell her? Can you get us started?" When Chewy just looked expectantly at her, wagging his tail, she smiled. "Right." Rising to her full height, she checked none of the candles were too close to the open books on the table. Then thought better of something and closed all three books, tucking them into the crook of her left arm. "Let's go, Chewy." She started them down the end of all the aisles, so she could glance into each one as they passed it, and cover more ground more quickly that way.
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Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
His tail wagged all the more happily as he heard the lady speak his name. When she said his human's name, he gave her a big doggy smile. Then he shifted his ears and cocked his head curiously, giving her a totally innocent look as she said something about that he was not supposed to be in here. That expression only lasted a moment before he resumed his doggy smile and let his tongue loll out happily.
She gave good ear scratches, and he leaned his head into her hand slightly. But then she stopped and stood up. Chewy also stood, looking at her as he waited hopefully. She would help him find Brooke, he was sure. He watched as she picked up those things Brooke was always holding and keeping him from chewing on. Then he hurried along at her side, looking this way and that as they set off down one of the aisles. After a few paces he raced on ahead to the end of the aisle, then paused and looked back at her, as if to hurry her along.
After searching a few more aisles, he located a stack of books left on the floor, and wagged his tail as he checked out the lingering Brooke-scent on them. Now that he had a fresher scent to follow, he set off following it eagerly.
| Gwestion & Brooke
Rounding the corner of one of the aisles, Brooke looked around, then spotted Gwestion, standing in an alcove set off in a corner of the library. She smiled in relief to have found him.. this place was big enough to get lost in, after all. She started off that way.
Though her steps were very quiet, the stone floors made it difficult to muffle the sound of footsteps completely. Therefore, Gwestion heard her approaching and turned before she had reached him. "No books?" He asked in surprise, noticing the lack of books in her arms.
"I.. I um, couldn't reach one on the top shelf," She explained with a little shrug, one hand clasping the opposite elbow. "I was hoping you might help me.." She looked curiously past him to see what had been capturing his attention.
"Alright, I'll see if I can reach it," He agreed, preparing to follow her back to the spot.
"What's over here?" Brooke asked curiously.
"Oh," he smiled faintly and stepped aside to let her better see what he had found over in this corner of the library. "It's a chess table... and a very nice one. Isn't it beautiful? I was admiring the workmanship of the pieces.. I believe they're carved from marble." He shrugged slightly. "I've never seen a set like this. It's so.. grandiose."
"It is," Brooke answered softly, a little surprised to find yet more surprises in this enormous library. "I've.. never seen an actual chess set before." She admitted quietly. She picked up one of the pieces, feeling the cool, carved stone. It was definitely some sort of stone, but she didn't know how to tell if it was marble or not. The carvings were intricate, however, with amazing detail. "I wonder how they did that?"
Before either of them could say anything more, Chewy came bounding into the little side room, eagerly placing his front paws up on Brooke's shoulders as if to hug her.
"Oh!" She gasped, startled as he caught her off guard. She stumbled back a step, losing her balance as she bumped into the chess table, and would have fallen down, if Gwestion had not caught her hastily and kept her from falling completely.
"Are you alright?" He asked, helping her back upright, frowning as he wondered how the dog had gotten inside at all. He began picking up the game pieces that had fallen to the floor.
"Yes, I'm fine... Chewy!" She sighed. "You have got to stop doing that, alright?" She scolded, then realized.. "Wait.. you're not even supposed to be in here. How'd you get inside? I told you to stay.."
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
When Chewy went into one of the aisles and smelled a book pile that had been left, he seemed to get more excited. Was that Brooke's scent then? Arnyn followed the dog's pitter patter on the stones, her own steps much more silent and unrushed. He seemed to be heading for an almost hidden corner of the library, but one that she thought she'd spent some time in before. She'd be certain once she got a look at it. If that was really were Chewy was going... He was getting more and more of a lead on her, since she didn't want to half-run in the library. But she could still see where he made his turns before he made the next one, so running wasn't necessary.
Still a ways behind when Chewy 'greeted' Brooke and almost toppled her over, but close enough to see the scene unfolding, Arnyn watched as a man helped Brooke back up and started picking things up from the floor. Chess pieces, probably, she figured as she got closer - given Brooke had stumbled into that chess table. And - yes - was that Gwestion?
Her smile grew into a grin as she closed the last of the distance, and caught Brooke asking Chewy how he had gotten inside.
Arnyn, still grinning and now just about 4 yards away, let out an audible sigh as she switched her books to her other arm. "I couldn't tell you, either. Chewy found me." She figured that her presence in the library would still be a surprise, but her presence in the city would not be. After all, Gladhron had figured out who she was the evening before - and unexpectedly seeing an old friend again was at least worth mentioning, right?
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
When Chewy went into one of the aisles and smelled a book pile that had been left, he seemed to get more excited. Was that Brooke's scent then? Arnyn followed the dog's pitter patter on the stones, her own steps much more silent and unrushed. He seemed to be heading for an almost hidden corner of the library, but one that she thought she'd spent some time in before. She'd be certain once she got a look at it. If that was really were Chewy was going... He was getting more and more of a lead on her, since she didn't want to half-run in the library. But she could still see where he made his turns before he made the next one, so running wasn't necessary.
Still a ways behind when Chewy 'greeted' Brooke and almost toppled her over, but close enough to see the scene unfolding, Arnyn watched as a man helped Brooke back up and started picking things up from the floor. Chess pieces, probably, she figured as she got closer - given Brooke had stumbled into that chess table. And - yes - was that Gwestion?
Her smile grew into a grin as she closed the last of the distance, and caught Brooke asking Chewy how he had gotten inside.
Arnyn, still grinning and now just about 4 yards away, let out an audible sigh as she switched her books to her other arm. "I couldn't tell you, either. Chewy found me." She figured that her presence in the library would still be a surprise, but her presence in the city would not be. After all, Gladhron had figured out who she was the evening before - and unexpectedly seeing an old friend again was at least worth mentioning, right?
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
The new voice to enter the conversation made Gwestion look up swiftly from where he was trying to locate a missing pawn that may have rolled under a cozy chair. He blinked, staring in stunned silence for a moment, wondering if he was imagining this. Was that really Celume, or was he only seeing someone who looked remarkably like her?
Meanwhile, Brooke was a little startled by the response to her question. It was obviously not Chewy. Besides the fact that he couldn't really speak in human languages, there was also the fact that this was a woman's voice. And she was speaking about Chewy. It took Brooke a moment to place why this woman looked so familiar. She had spent far less time with Celume than Gwestion had, but she usually remembered people that she had met, particularly if there was some reason to remember them, or they had done or said something to stand out in her memory, as Celume had. Therefore, this surprise was a delightful one. "Celume!" Brooke smiled, surprised to see her, here of all places.
When Brooke spoke the name that was in his own mind, Gwestion decided that he was not imagining it after all. He ventured a few steps closer to her, rather stunned by this surprise encounter. "Celume? How..? I mean.. what..." Slightly at a loss for words, he stepped closer with a small smile, shaking his head in disbelief. "Gladhron won't believe this when I tell him," He declared, slightly amused at the thought of how his brother might react. "How have you been?" He asked finally, still a bit stunned about her unexpected appearance.
Meanwhile Chewy sat down beside Brooke with his tongue hanging out, looking quite pleased with himself even if he didn't know really what was going on. Looking up at Brooke, he enjoyed the ear scratches she was giving him even if her attention wasn't on him.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Gwestion looked positively flabbergasted. As if he knew nothing about her being in Minas Tirith. That was unexpected. When Brooke said her name - or at least, part of a nickname, and the name she had been using in the north - Arnyn grinned at her. "Hey, Brooke. What do you think about our library? Not too shabby, right?"
Gwestion's halting speech only seemed to confirm he hadn't known. "Oh, I think he'll believe it," she said, laughing quietly as she crossed the last yards between them and she gave Gwestion a spontaneous hug, before stepping back again. "Didn't your brother tell you? That I was at the masquerade, too?" She couldn't lose her grin as she looked from Gwestion to Brooke and back. "I've been... busy." A slightly evasive maneuver. "What about you? You look well!" She smiled at Brooke. "You do, too! Are you lady Blossom's niece?" But then she realized Blossom wouldn't, of course, be the lady's actual name. "I mean... I don’t actually know her name..."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Gwestion looked positively flabbergasted. As if he knew nothing about her being in Minas Tirith. That was unexpected. When Brooke said her name - or at least, part of a nickname, and the name she had been using in the north - Arnyn grinned at her. "Hey, Brooke. What do you think about our library? Not too shabby, right?"
Gwestion's halting speech only seemed to confirm he hadn't known. "Oh, I think he'll believe it," she said, laughing quietly as she crossed the last yards between them and she gave Gwestion a spontaneous hug, before stepping back again. "Didn't your brother tell you? That I was at the masquerade, too?" She couldn't lose her grin as she looked from Gwestion to Brooke and back. "I've been... busy." A slightly evasive maneuver. "What about you? You look well!" She smiled at Brooke. "You do, too! Are you lady Blossom's niece?" But then she realized Blossom wouldn't, of course, be the lady's actual name. "I mean... I don’t actually know her name..."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Oh, it's incredible!" Brooke lit up at the mention of how impressive the library was. She glanced at Gwestion curiously as he seemed totally stunned to find her here. Being unaware of their parting, nor the fact he had never expected to find her again, she wasn't sure why he seemed so astonished.
As Celume hugged him, Gwestion was still just a bit too amazed to do much else but return the hug. "Tell me..?" He shook his head slightly, wondering what Gladhron was supposed to have told him, but he didn't have to wait long before she explained. She was at the masquerade! "No, I haven't spoken with Gladhron today," He answered, trying to get his head around this. "Unless.. you count him waking me up in the middle of the night to ramble on about fairies and butterflies and meadows and sunbeams, and.. I don't even know what else..." He shrugged. "I was half asleep, so none of it made a lot of sense."
He noticed the lack of a proper answer as to how she had been, but he didn't press the matter, remembering how similar she was to himself. He could guess why she would give the sort of answer she had, and knew that if it were him, he would be hoping the other person didn't persist in asking.
Brooke glanced from one to the other, absently rubbing around Chewy's ears. When Celume turned to her again with a question, she returned a slightly puzzled smile. "Blossom?" Then, as Celume explained she didn't actually know the name of this 'lady Blossom', Brooke nodded in understanding. "Oh, right.. you must have met her at the masquerade." She realized. "She is my aunt, yes." She confirmed, nodding slightly. "Oh.. and, it's Seri," She provided the name that was lacking.
"Why did you call her Blossom, though?" She was curious where such a name would have come from, being unfamiliar with how everyone had ended up using names like that for the dance.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
She mentally laughed at Gwestion's description of how Gladhron had woken him up in the middle of the night to talk about fairies, butterflies, meadows and sunbeams. And how it hadn't made a lick of sense to him. Her brown eyes twinkled. "Incorrigible," she chuckled. "He really woke you up in the middle of the night?" She shook her head, though she couldn't help herself from smiling. Sounds like little had changed between them.
Brooke's answer made Arnyn look back at the girl. Now no longer quite as young as she remembered her. The difference that just a few years could make at that age... "Seri," Arnyn tested the name. "Well, she was very friendly, and I enjoyed talking with her." Arnyn raised an eyebrow. "You didn't talk to her about the dance, either?" she asked Brooke. "Since everyone there was wearing masks, some made it a veritable sport to remain anonymous. It seemed like some sort of unspoken agreement, though, that everyone was given an alias or nickname based on their disguise for the night."
"Your aunt, Seri, was wearing a lovely dress with blossom-like flowers on it. Hence her alias." The blonde turned to Gwestion. "Your brother, with his dragon mask - was dubbed Dragon. One of my friends wore a butterfly mask. Gladhron danced with her, so that's why you thought he was talking about butterflies. Her real name is Kaylin, but she probably didn't mention that. She was curious whether or not her husband would recognize her in the crowd despite her disguise, so she was playing things close to the chest for a good while." Arnyn shook her head with an amused smile. "Sunbeam was another guest, a man, whom Gladhron seemed to hit it off with. And I was the fairy." Thinking, she frowned slightly. "I think your brother danced with some others, too. I figure that's how a Meadow and possibly some other aliases got in there, too, when he spoke to you." She grinned at Gwestion. "I guess with his rambling and your sleepiness, it was impossible to understand much of it."
Spotting a stray chess piece a yard away, she went to pick it up. The black horse. Ha. With a smile, she put it back onto the chess board. Her finger trailed part of the edge of the board. "I understand an event like the masquerade isn't for everyone," she allowed as she glanced at Gwestion. "But it would have been fun to see you there, too." Smiling more broadly, she shrugged. "Not that it matters anymore, now! Who'd have thought I'd run into you this quickly? Seriously... how have you been? All of you?" She smiled at Brooke. "Are you living with Seri, these days?" Brooke's housing situation had been a concern, all that time ago. "I couldn't find you in Bree, when I came back in the winter the year that we met."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
She mentally laughed at Gwestion's description of how Gladhron had woken him up in the middle of the night to talk about fairies, butterflies, meadows and sunbeams. And how it hadn't made a lick of sense to him. Her brown eyes twinkled. "Incorrigible," she chuckled. "He really woke you up in the middle of the night?" She shook her head, though she couldn't help herself from smiling. Sounds like little had changed between them.
Brooke's answer made Arnyn look back at the girl. Now no longer quite as young as she remembered her. The difference that just a few years could make at that age... "Seri," Arnyn tested the name. "Well, she was very friendly, and I enjoyed talking with her." Arnyn raised an eyebrow. "You didn't talk to her about the dance, either?" she asked Brooke. "Since everyone there was wearing masks, some made it a veritable sport to remain anonymous. It seemed like some sort of unspoken agreement, though, that everyone was given an alias or nickname based on their disguise for the night."
"Your aunt, Seri, was wearing a lovely dress with blossom-like flowers on it. Hence her alias." The blonde turned to Gwestion. "Your brother, with his dragon mask - was dubbed Dragon. One of my friends wore a butterfly mask. Gladhron danced with her, so that's why you thought he was talking about butterflies. Her real name is Kaylin, but she probably didn't mention that. She was curious whether or not her husband would recognize her in the crowd despite her disguise, so she was playing things close to the chest for a good while." Arnyn shook her head with an amused smile. "Sunbeam was another guest, a man, whom Gladhron seemed to hit it off with. And I was the fairy." Thinking, she frowned slightly. "I think your brother danced with some others, too. I figure that's how a Meadow and possibly some other aliases got in there, too, when he spoke to you." She grinned at Gwestion. "I guess with his rambling and your sleepiness, it was impossible to understand much of it."
Spotting a stray chess piece a yard away, she went to pick it up. The black horse. Ha. With a smile, she put it back onto the chess board. Her finger trailed part of the edge of the board. "I understand an event like the masquerade isn't for everyone," she allowed as she glanced at Gwestion. "But it would have been fun to see you there, too." Smiling more broadly, she shrugged. "Not that it matters anymore, now! Who'd have thought I'd run into you this quickly? Seriously... how have you been? All of you?" She smiled at Brooke. "Are you living with Seri, these days?" Brooke's housing situation had been a concern, all that time ago. "I couldn't find you in Bree, when I came back in the winter the year that we met."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Indeed, he did," Gwestion rolled his eyes with a tiny smile. "There was little about it that made sense, other than that he had a nice time." He shrugged and looked down at the chess pieces in his hand, then set them on the board.
"No, I didn't." Brooke answered about whether she'd talked to Seri about the dance, then listened as Celume explained that they had made a game out of making up aliases based on the costumes. "Oh, I see." She nodded slightly. "Gladhron was very excited about the dragon mask." She added, when it was mentioned he had been dubbed Dragon. "I'm sure he was pleased about that."
"Did Ms Seri have a good time, then?" Gwestion asked. "I have not had a chance to speak with her today, as Brooke and I left the inn rather early." He explained.
"My fault," Brooke admitted with a shy glance down. "I wanted to see the library.."
"Again." Gwestion added.
"Yesterday doesn't exactly count," Brooke pointed out. "We only had time to search for one specific book and then had to go back to the inn." She explained to Celume. "So today, I wanted to see all of it that I could."
"So, you were dressed as a fairy?" Gwestion asked in surprise. "I would not have guessed that, knowing you." As Celume asked how they had been, Gwestion paused, glancing around. "How about we all sit and talk for a while?" He suggested. There were enough seats around, after all. "Perhaps, even a game?" He added with a little nod to the board before them, wondering if Celume would be agreeable. "I was just telling Brooke that I had never seen such an exquisite set, and admiring the work that was put into it."
"Yes, I am." Brooke answered, for her own part. "Actually.." She hesitated. "Well, it's thanks to you and Gwestion that I found out that I even had an aunt," She mentioned with a little smile toward them both. "While we were in the hall of records, remember how we were looking through all those papers trying to find information? Well.. it so happened I came across a few other items of great interest... both to me, and to a friend of mine. One of those was.. well, to put it shortly.. it made me begin digging a little more until I found out that my mother had a half sister. Ms. Seri. She didn't know about it, but.. well, some other friends helped make it possible for me to go and live with her." She smiled slightly. "And my friend, Aislin, has become my sister, now. Perhaps you'll meet her, soon."
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
The way Gwestion said 'Ms Seri' made her blink. Something nipped at the edge of her mind as she nodded at his question. "When she and I spoke, at least, she was enjoying it. Something about one gentleman being a bit over-the-top with his compliments, but still friendly enough." Arnyn half-hid her grin. "She and I spoke for a while, actually. I think we both agreed to call each other friends. And I think she was thinking of Kaylin as another friend as well. She had a good number of dances, too. Seemed like a big fan of the tavern's hot chocolate." Catching herself almost giving a military-type of report, Arnyn cleared her throat.
Then her eyes grew a bit wider. "Wait. Seri? Ms Seri? The healer who helped with your leg? That was her?" Her gaze switched from Gwestion to Brooke, as she confirmed she was living with Seri now. That would explain, indeed, why Brooke hadn't been around Bree. The brothers had mentioned the healer living 'in the Chetwood' - or something similar, Arnyn remembered. Frowning slightly when Brooke said it was in part thanks to Gwestion and herself that she was living with Seri now, Arnyn shook her head. "If you found something interesting in those records, you should credit yourself. That place was pure chaos." She smiled more brightly. "Whatever the case, though - I am glad." Brooke looked much better. There was a calm around her that had been missing, when they'd first met. Or that's what it seemed like. Arnyn slanted her head. "You look happier," she said quietly. Quickly. Before moving on immediately, thus forcing no one to give it any more attention.
"I was not dressed as a fairy," she denied, rather vehemently, as she lowered herself into one of the chairs around the chess table, wordlessly agreeing to both of Gwestion's suggestions. As if it hadn't been years since they'd last seen each other. She made a face. "That sounds like spring plants and roses and daffodils. No," she said resolutely, shaking her head. "Not even Kaylin would be able to get me into a dress like that. It was a dark blue dress, it was just..." Arnyn put her small stack of three books under her chair and started arranging the chess pieces right. She'd taken black. Gwestion could play white. "... a bit sparkly," she said recalcitrantly. "And it had wings." She shook her head. "It sounds ridiculous," she muttered. "But yesterday evening, amid all the splendour and the other costumes, it fit right in."
The board was set. She gestured vaguely at Gwestion.
Arnyn eyed Brooke thoughtfully. "You like books... you like libraries. And you got one specific book from this place, yesterday? So... you were the one who taught Gladhron to dance from that book?" Arnyn bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I could hardly believe it when he said he had just learned it earlier that day, and from a book no less!"
Her eyes flicked back to Gwestion. "He must have danced with..." She wasn't sure how many, though... "About a handful of women at least?" How Gladhron could just have someone tell him about something entirely new, have a practice run and then simply go out and do it - it was baffling. Arnyn chuckled.
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
The way Gwestion said 'Ms Seri' made her blink. Something nipped at the edge of her mind as she nodded at his question. "When she and I spoke, at least, she was enjoying it. Something about one gentleman being a bit over-the-top with his compliments, but still friendly enough." Arnyn half-hid her grin. "She and I spoke for a while, actually. I think we both agreed to call each other friends. And I think she was thinking of Kaylin as another friend as well. She had a good number of dances, too. Seemed like a big fan of the tavern's hot chocolate." Catching herself almost giving a military-type of report, Arnyn cleared her throat.
Then her eyes grew a bit wider. "Wait. Seri? Ms Seri? The healer who helped with your leg? That was her?" Her gaze switched from Gwestion to Brooke, as she confirmed she was living with Seri now. That would explain, indeed, why Brooke hadn't been around Bree. The brothers had mentioned the healer living 'in the Chetwood' - or something similar, Arnyn remembered. Frowning slightly when Brooke said it was in part thanks to Gwestion and herself that she was living with Seri now, Arnyn shook her head. "If you found something interesting in those records, you should credit yourself. That place was pure chaos." She smiled more brightly. "Whatever the case, though - I am glad." Brooke looked much better. There was a calm around her that had been missing, when they'd first met. Or that's what it seemed like. Arnyn slanted her head. "You look happier," she said quietly. Quickly. Before moving on immediately, thus forcing no one to give it any more attention.
"I was not dressed as a fairy," she denied, rather vehemently, as she lowered herself into one of the chairs around the chess table, wordlessly agreeing to both of Gwestion's suggestions. As if it hadn't been years since they'd last seen each other. She made a face. "That sounds like spring plants and roses and daffodils. No," she said resolutely, shaking her head. "Not even Kaylin would be able to get me into a dress like that. It was a dark blue dress, it was just..." Arnyn put her small stack of three books under her chair and started arranging the chess pieces right. She'd taken black. Gwestion could play white. "... a bit sparkly," she said recalcitrantly. "And it had wings." She shook her head. "It sounds ridiculous," she muttered. "But yesterday evening, amid all the splendour and the other costumes, it fit right in."
The board was set. She gestured vaguely at Gwestion.
Arnyn eyed Brooke thoughtfully. "You like books... you like libraries. And you got one specific book from this place, yesterday? So... you were the one who taught Gladhron to dance from that book?" Arnyn bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I could hardly believe it when he said he had just learned it earlier that day, and from a book no less!"
Her eyes flicked back to Gwestion. "He must have danced with..." She wasn't sure how many, though... "About a handful of women at least?" How Gladhron could just have someone tell him about something entirely new, have a practice run and then simply go out and do it - it was baffling. Arnyn chuckled.
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Gwestion nodded, pleased to hear that Seri seemed to have been having a good time. "I'm glad to hear that." He wondered about the over the top guy, but since she said he was still polite enough, he figured it wasn't worth bothering about.
"They had hot chocolate?" Brooke asked, mildly surprised to hear that. "Aunt Seri makes very good hot chocolate," She remembered with a little smile. "But we don't get it very often around Bree, so it's quite a rarity. Not very many shipments of imported stuff makes it that far."
As Celume made the connection with the name, Gwestion nodded slightly. "Yes, the very same." He answered with a tiny smile. "She is also Emma's mother, the friend that we mentioned to you once or twice." He mentioned.
"She wanted to go to the houses of healing here," Brooke added, as she slid into the cozy armchair that faced the side of the chess board. "she's hoping maybe to learn some new techniques or herbs or things here that maybe we don't know about there in Bree, I think. Something like that." She petted Chewy as he rested his head on her lap, then shrugged as Celume pointed out that it was her own doing if she found anything. "I wouldn't have found any of it, if you two hadn't let me help look," She pointed out quietly, letting her gaze rest down on her dog. "If it had been up to Gladhron.. well, I know he didn't trust me then." And she didn't blame him, considering her stepsister and all, and the fact he'd had bad experiences with her.
As she protested the fact she had been dressed as a fairy, Gwestion nodded, careful not to look amused as she went on to describe her dress and the added wings. "It sounds lovely. I hope you had a nice time." He waited while she chose her seat, and then took the other. He moved his first piece, since she had taken black for herself. "
From her seat, Brooke watched quietly. "Oh.. he told you that?" She was a little surprised, and slightly awkward, to hear that Gladhron had told her about Brooke's aid. "Well.. it was.. he wanted to go to the dance, but none of us knew how, so.." She shrugged. "I just found a book that told how to do it, and read it out to him and Seri."
"More than that," Gwestion mentioned. "We had to decipher an older version of Sindarin that even I had difficulty with." He sat back as he waited for Celume to make her move. "So, he danced with many women? Did he do well at the dancing, then?" he wondered, curious how well those book lessons had been for him. As then something else hit him and he frowned as he looked up at Celume. "Wait a moment.. did you say you went back to Bree, in the winter of that same year?" He asked.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Of course," Arnyn replied to Brooke about the hot chocolate, before remembering how difficult it had been to get her hands on some back in Bree. "I'm sure they will also have some where you are staying," she offered. "It's almost a staple here, in winter." She smiled. "It helps against the chill of the mountain winds."
Raising her eyebrows slightly when Gwestion mentioned Ms Seri was also Emma's mother, Arnyn took a deep breath but did not comment any further. Oh, she remembered the name and the connection there. Brooke's comment about Gladhron made Arnyn give her a thoughtful look. "He trusts you now," she said gently. "He thinks of you like family." After a quick and careful glance at Gwestion, she focused on what he said. "The evning had its ups and downs," she smiled. "Mostly ups, though! I could hardly believe it when I recognized Gladhron. But he was impossible not to recognize. He had a harder time with me," she added, amused but at the same time still a bit surprised at his observation skills.
After assessing Gwestion's opening move, she made her countermove. Shaking her head a little at how bizarre it was she was suddenly finding herself playing chess against Gwestion in the Minas Tirith library, she laughed quietly. It seemed more like a response to what Brooke said about the book, though. "Yes, he told me," she confirmed - though it was no longer all that necessary. The information Gwestion added, made Arnyn nod in understanding. That's why his dancing pose had been a bit off. "You can do that?" she asked, curious. "Decipher old Sindarin? That is pretty impressive." Her gaze switched from Gwestion to Brooke. "One of you? Both of you together?"
When Gwestion asked if Gladhron had danced with many women, Arnyn shrugged. "Like I said, at least a handful." The question about whether he had done well at the dancing, made her assess Gwestion more attentively. "He did well enough that no one would notice he was a complete novice. Not all those in attendance are versed in the finer details. Nor is it expected."
His sudden frown and last question, made Arnyn lean back in her seat. Despite the welcome surprise at seeing Gladhron at the masquerade and now Gwestion and Brooke here at the library - despite the joy of these reunions... it had been years since she'd seen either brother. And she was at her home turf. Where her default setting was made up of a calm exterior, whatever was going on beneath hidden behind a wall as thick as the Othram. It was easy to retreat behind, now. Arnyn's dark eyes coolly settled on the chess board and stayed there. "I did." Whether she was confirming what she had said or that she had indeed gone back to Bree, was of no relevance. Both fit. "I figured Bel would have told you by now. You've obviously been back to the area since then."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Of course," Arnyn replied to Brooke about the hot chocolate, before remembering how difficult it had been to get her hands on some back in Bree. "I'm sure they will also have some where you are staying," she offered. "It's almost a staple here, in winter." She smiled. "It helps against the chill of the mountain winds."
Raising her eyebrows slightly when Gwestion mentioned Ms Seri was also Emma's mother, Arnyn took a deep breath but did not comment any further. Oh, she remembered the name and the connection there. Brooke's comment about Gladhron made Arnyn give her a thoughtful look. "He trusts you now," she said gently. "He thinks of you like family." After a quick and careful glance at Gwestion, she focused on what he said. "The evning had its ups and downs," she smiled. "Mostly ups, though! I could hardly believe it when I recognized Gladhron. But he was impossible not to recognize. He had a harder time with me," she added, amused but at the same time still a bit surprised at his observation skills.
After assessing Gwestion's opening move, she made her countermove. Shaking her head a little at how bizarre it was she was suddenly finding herself playing chess against Gwestion in the Minas Tirith library, she laughed quietly. It seemed more like a response to what Brooke said about the book, though. "Yes, he told me," she confirmed - though it was no longer all that necessary. The information Gwestion added, made Arnyn nod in understanding. That's why his dancing pose had been a bit off. "You can do that?" she asked, curious. "Decipher old Sindarin? That is pretty impressive." Her gaze switched from Gwestion to Brooke. "One of you? Both of you together?"
When Gwestion asked if Gladhron had danced with many women, Arnyn shrugged. "Like I said, at least a handful." The question about whether he had done well at the dancing, made her assess Gwestion more attentively. "He did well enough that no one would notice he was a complete novice. Not all those in attendance are versed in the finer details. Nor is it expected."
His sudden frown and last question, made Arnyn lean back in her seat. Despite the welcome surprise at seeing Gladhron at the masquerade and now Gwestion and Brooke here at the library - despite the joy of these reunions... it had been years since she'd seen either brother. And she was at her home turf. Where her default setting was made up of a calm exterior, whatever was going on beneath hidden behind a wall as thick as the Othram. It was easy to retreat behind, now. Arnyn's dark eyes coolly settled on the chess board and stayed there. "I did." Whether she was confirming what she had said or that she had indeed gone back to Bree, was of no relevance. Both fit. "I figured Bel would have told you by now. You've obviously been back to the area since then."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"I didn't think to ask about it," Brooke admitted, wondering if the Wayfarer would have hot chocolate. When Celume then commented that Gladhron not only trusted Brooke, but that he thought of her as family, Brooke blinked in slight surprise, wondering how she would know that. But she was a bit at a loss for what to say, and then the topic shifted to what Gwestion had asked.
"That must have been quite a surprise, for both of you." Gwestion remarked, thinking of how stunned he had been just a moment ago. He still could hardly believe that he and Brooke had actually run into Celume, here of all places. As she made her move, he considered his own before making the next one. "I would imagine he was likely doubting whether he was only imagining it was you, or if it really was." He mentioned, when she said that he'd had a harder time with identifying her. Of course, he didn't know that she had been so well disguised and even had altered her accent.
"Umm, well I can read Sindarin, but this was.. trickier." Brooke answered. "I had to get Gwestion to help.."
"It was difficult, I will admit. I don't know if we managed to decipher it entirely accurately." He admitted, sitting back as he waited for Celume to make her move. "But, between us, I think we managed to make enough sense to give him an idea of what to do. Seri as well." He shrugged. He was glad to hear that Gladhron had done well enough that no one could tell he was so inexperienced.
He watched her as she leaned back and considered his own question before finally answering. But that only left him a bit more confused, and he thought for a long moment. "No, she said nothing about it." He thought for a moment more. "But then, it was winter, you say?" After she had confirmed that, he went on. "We didn't return to the Forsaken Inn for a very long time, so perhaps it slipped her mind." He thought back to that year. "After we parted ways with you, Gladhron and I continued hunting the bandits for a few more weeks, but then, there were some rumors of trouble near Tharbad. We ventured that way to investigate that, and that took a while. And.. then after a while longer, we went on toward Rohan, and remained there for the duration of the winter." He explained. "After that we were drawn further south for a time before we finally started back toward the Bree area, but it was a gradual thing. We'd travel a ways, then veer off to go check out a disturbance, then travel a bit further, and stop to deal with this or that.. and so forth." he shrugged. "It was nearly summer again before we made it back to the area. Bel was very glad to see us return, but she did not mention you." He gave a slightly sad smile. "I imagine you would have been gone again by then, anyway."
Last edited by Rillewen on Mon Aug 05, 2024 8:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Still looking at the chess board, she'd nodded at his question about the season. Then she made her next move - the play she had in mind rather aggressive. "Yes, by then I most certainly was." Her voice was perfectly calm. She'd no longer been in the north during the attack on Osgiliath. Not that she was keen on mentioning any of that. It might lead to a conversation of why that was relevant, if she had been involved in the matter, and so forth. Even though she'd been thinking about how to tell Gladhron and Gwestion about who she was here - especially if they were sticking around a while, she had yet to find a way she found acceptable. She knew it had best come from her, not someone else. But no matter the approach she thought of... it was always found lacking.
"I only stayed at the forsaken inn for one night. As you say, it must have slipped her mind." Her gaze flicked up to Gwestion. "Especially if she does not get to see you often. It sounds like you two kept rather busy." She seemed to be debating something. "Did you... learn anything?" Her tone had changed, albeit just slightly. But enough for someone like Gwestion to hear. Enough for him to know - know what she meant. "Unfortunately, I cannot say I did," she said more quietly.
She smiled faintly at Brooke. "You two did rather well with the translation, I should think. Seri also danced like someone who had not just learned all she knew from a book. Of course, since I didn't dance with her myself, I can't be sure." Her smile grew a little. She did know someone she could ask, though. She glanced at Gwestion. "You could check with Seri herself, about your brother. They danced, as well. But I thought Gladhron did fine. He seemed to thrive in the setting."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Still looking at the chess board, she'd nodded at his question about the season. Then she made her next move - the play she had in mind rather aggressive. "Yes, by then I most certainly was." Her voice was perfectly calm. She'd no longer been in the north during the attack on Osgiliath. Not that she was keen on mentioning any of that. It might lead to a conversation of why that was relevant, if she had been involved in the matter, and so forth. Even though she'd been thinking about how to tell Gladhron and Gwestion about who she was here - especially if they were sticking around a while, she had yet to find a way she found acceptable. She knew it had best come from her, not someone else. But no matter the approach she thought of... it was always found lacking.
"I only stayed at the forsaken inn for one night. As you say, it must have slipped her mind." Her gaze flicked up to Gwestion. "Especially if she does not get to see you often. It sounds like you two kept rather busy." She seemed to be debating something. "Did you... learn anything?" Her tone had changed, albeit just slightly. But enough for someone like Gwestion to hear. Enough for him to know - know what she meant. "Unfortunately, I cannot say I did," she said more quietly.
She smiled faintly at Brooke. "You two did rather well with the translation, I should think. Seri also danced like someone who had not just learned all she knew from a book. Of course, since I didn't dance with her myself, I can't be sure." Her smile grew a little. She did know someone she could ask, though. She glanced at Gwestion. "You could check with Seri herself, about your brother. They danced, as well. But I thought Gladhron did fine. He seemed to thrive in the setting."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Watching her play her next move, Gwestion's eyes narrowed minutely, swiftly analyzing the play and the potential it had for both sides. "I am sorry that we missed you." He answered. Gladhron would have been even more upset, he knew. He glanced up at her. "Neither of us expected to ever see you again, you know." He informed her quietly. "Had we known you might return in only a few months.." He didn't really know what they might have done. He shrugged. "Perhaps we would have left word with Bel, or tried to return by the time you were there. I don't know," he found it hard to say exactly what they would have done, nor whether those plans would have even worked out.
When she asked if they had learned anything, he met her gaze for a moment, understanding what she meant. He gave a small, sad shake of his head. "Nothing." He answered quietly. The trail was too far gone, even with all they had learned from her. He was not terribly surprised then, to learn that she did not learn anything, either. He turned his focus on the game then, as Celume spoke to Brooke. He made a move that would seem of little importance.
"Oh, thanks," Brooke smiled slightly. She had been sitting quietly and debating if they would rather talk without her around. At the same time, she was absently petting Chewy while watching their moves curiously. At this point, it was difficult to tell whether Gwestion or Celume would win, but they both seemed to play quite well. "I'm glad they enjoyed it." She answered. "I was quite happy to stay at the inn and read, while they were gone." She smiled a bit shyly. "There's so many wonderful books here. I wish I had time to read them all."
Gwestion smiled faintly. "Of course, he did." He answered, about Gladhron thriving in the setting. "He enjoys that sort of thing." he sat back. "You know, he actually told me that he thought something like that would be perfect for me, and that I would really enjoy it?" He shook his head in light amusement. "I asked him if he'd ever met me before."
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Neither of us expected to ever see you again, you know."
A slight frown managed to crack through today's mask at those quietly spoken words. She reminded herself they had been justified in that assessment. There would have been no reason for either of them to expect her to come back. She had offered them none. "Don't -" she said abruptly when Gwestion started offering options; options they might have chosen if they'd known she might return. "I could make no promises. So I didn't. Neither of you were beholden to me." Even if it would have ben nice for them to credit me just enough to consider I might come back to see them at some point. It was done, though. And she had not tried finding them a second time.
She let his answer about Gwilithiel sit in the quiet of the library as he made his next move. She had played him too many times to know that none of his moves were casual. None were unplanned. They all served a purpose. She slanted her head, eyes narrowing. Before moving one of her own pieces, allowing her to build on her previous move while also setting up a more casual defense.
Arnyn considered something else, next, glancing back at Brooke and Chewy. "You know -" Well, no. Brooke probably didn't know. "They let residents take books from the library. Take them out to be returned later. Only five at a time, but still. If you wish, you can pick five to take with you. I can sign them out for you. All you have to do is bring them back within 7 days' time." With a raised eyebrow and twinkling eyes, she added: "I doubt it would take you anywhere near that long. YOu won't be able to read them all... but then you also won't have to spend all your time here. It's a beautiful libary, but a little lacking in natural light," she pointed out with a faint smile.
She raised an eyebrow at Gwestion when he said Gladhron had said the masquerade would be perfect for Gwestion. Arnyn couldn't help but laugh. The sound briefly rang through the library. "He's just like my brother that way," she said, shaking her head. "They say those things not because they think the event suits us. It's because they believe the event is the perfect occasion - or excuse - for us to relax and let ourselves have a little fun. Or that it might even force us into a bit of fun." She shrugged one shoulder as she gave Gwestion a half smile. "Clearly both your brother and mine feel that 'fun' is lacking in our lives."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
"Neither of us expected to ever see you again, you know."
A slight frown managed to crack through today's mask at those quietly spoken words. She reminded herself they had been justified in that assessment. There would have been no reason for either of them to expect her to come back. She had offered them none. "Don't -" she said abruptly when Gwestion started offering options; options they might have chosen if they'd known she might return. "I could make no promises. So I didn't. Neither of you were beholden to me." Even if it would have ben nice for them to credit me just enough to consider I might come back to see them at some point. It was done, though. And she had not tried finding them a second time.
She let his answer about Gwilithiel sit in the quiet of the library as he made his next move. She had played him too many times to know that none of his moves were casual. None were unplanned. They all served a purpose. She slanted her head, eyes narrowing. Before moving one of her own pieces, allowing her to build on her previous move while also setting up a more casual defense.
Arnyn considered something else, next, glancing back at Brooke and Chewy. "You know -" Well, no. Brooke probably didn't know. "They let residents take books from the library. Take them out to be returned later. Only five at a time, but still. If you wish, you can pick five to take with you. I can sign them out for you. All you have to do is bring them back within 7 days' time." With a raised eyebrow and twinkling eyes, she added: "I doubt it would take you anywhere near that long. YOu won't be able to read them all... but then you also won't have to spend all your time here. It's a beautiful libary, but a little lacking in natural light," she pointed out with a faint smile.
She raised an eyebrow at Gwestion when he said Gladhron had said the masquerade would be perfect for Gwestion. Arnyn couldn't help but laugh. The sound briefly rang through the library. "He's just like my brother that way," she said, shaking her head. "They say those things not because they think the event suits us. It's because they believe the event is the perfect occasion - or excuse - for us to relax and let ourselves have a little fun. Or that it might even force us into a bit of fun." She shrugged one shoulder as she gave Gwestion a half smile. "Clearly both your brother and mine feel that 'fun' is lacking in our lives."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
He gave a small nod when she stopped him from carrying down that line of thought. He would have liked to have seen her again when she returned, and he knew Gladhron would have, but it couldn't be helped. They'd hoped she might return, but unfortunately, their paths simply did not cross again. Until now.
He watched her make her move while she spoke to Brooke for a moment. Blue-grey eyes scanned the chessboard for a moment before he moved another piece. If all went well, he thought he might win the game in another one or two moves. But he also knew better than to underestimate Celume, so he wasn't about to celebrate the win just yet.
"Five?" Brooke's eyes widened slightly. "They only let me take out two, and I had to have them back by today." She was a bit amazed at the thought of being able to get as many as... well, nine, if Gwestion helped.. she glanced at him and watched as he moved his game piece. "If I had that many to read.."
"You'd never get any sleep the whole time we're in town," Gwestion finished for her, with a tiny frown as he looked up from the board. "If Celume does this, you have to promise you'll stop when Seri says it's time to blow out the candles. No more trying to read by the moon and starlight.. I know you did that during the trip here." He added.
Brooke frowned slightly and looked down at Chewy. He wagged his tail and then popped up to lick her face, making her jerk back slightly in surprise. "Fine." She agreed, sighing. "I won't try to read by the starlight." Looking up, she noticed he was still looking at her, waiting. "Or the moonlight," She relented, rolling her eyes a little.
Once that was settled, Gwestion nodded in satisfaction, and turned back to Celume. "Perhaps that's it," he agreed about their brother's intentions. "Is your brother also persistent about it?" He offered a faint smile. "And incorrigible?"
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Not hiding all of her amusement, Celumë listened to the exchange between Brooke and Gwestion while also reassessing the board after Gwestion's move. She played out a few scenario's in her head, and her eyes narrowed sharply at one of them. She wouldn't let him get away with that. Planning her possible defenses first, she mapped them against her plan of attack while her hand played with the blue stone hanging from her necklace. And then she made the only move she could that would serve both ends.
"Annoyingly persistent," she answered Gwestion. " But at least my brother's attempts are restricted in the sense that he and I only see each other for a few weeks a few times a year." She considered something. "And no one is as incorrigible as Gladhron."
"Brooke,do you play?" Arnyn asked her with a friendly smile and a nod at the chess board. "Did you notice how he thinks he almost has me?" Her smile turned sly. "Clearly it has been too long since you and I have played," she said, glancing at Gwestion. "Don't worry. I'll remind you." Her smile was suddenly bright. She was glad she got to be reminded of how they had played together, herself.
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Not hiding all of her amusement, Celumë listened to the exchange between Brooke and Gwestion while also reassessing the board after Gwestion's move. She played out a few scenario's in her head, and her eyes narrowed sharply at one of them. She wouldn't let him get away with that. Planning her possible defenses first, she mapped them against her plan of attack while her hand played with the blue stone hanging from her necklace. And then she made the only move she could that would serve both ends.
"Annoyingly persistent," she answered Gwestion. " But at least my brother's attempts are restricted in the sense that he and I only see each other for a few weeks a few times a year." She considered something. "And no one is as incorrigible as Gladhron."
"Brooke,do you play?" Arnyn asked her with a friendly smile and a nod at the chess board. "Did you notice how he thinks he almost has me?" Her smile turned sly. "Clearly it has been too long since you and I have played," she said, glancing at Gwestion. "Don't worry. I'll remind you." Her smile was suddenly bright. She was glad she got to be reminded of how they had played together, herself.
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - after noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - after noon
"Hmm," Gwestion wondered for a moment, what it would be like to only see his brother a few times a year. The idea seemed.. odd. There were times when he got frustrated and annoyed with him, and might wish for that, but at the same time, he couldn't quite imagine going so long without having him around. Then he smiled slightly. "Agreed." He answered her latter statement, with a bit of amusement while he took some time to think about his next play. Her move had somewhat altered his intended plan, and he had to reassess his next move.
Brooke was observing the game with some interest, watching the different tactics that were being employed by both Gwestion and Celume. When the latter spoke up and asked if she played, she blinked and looked at her, briefly startled. "Oh.. um, no." She shook her head, then hesitated. That wasn't entirely true. "I mean, well.. not really." She mumbled, looking down shyly. "My mom.. sorta taught me how, when I was really little, but.. well, that was years ago, and.." She shrugged slightly and didn't finish the sentence, intending to give the impression that she had not played in all that time. "I'm.. not sure I'd know which pieces are which."
Glancing up at her, Gwestion paused. "I thought.. you said you'd never seen a chess set before?" He asked, trying to think back to make sure he hadn't misheard that.
"I haven't," Brooke glanced up at him. "Not a real one. My mother, um, she kinda made one out of buttons and thimbles and things." She explained with a small smile. "She was really creative." Which was also why she couldn't be certain she'd know what each of the pieces were, on a real set. However, she was amused at the way Celume asked her whether she had recognized what Gwestion was trying to do. And how she mentioned how long it had been, and that she would remind him about playing against her.
Gwestion sat back, a bit surprised to hear her comment revealing that she knew what he was up to, but he couldn't be upset. It had been far too long. "Well then.. remind me." He challenged after making his move. He had altered his plan, since she'd caught on to it. Now, he was attempting a different tactic that would hopefully use some of the pieces that were already in place.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Her bright smile played down to a little smirk now, Arnyn watched his face as he made his move. She'd never given it away before, when she'd figured out his plan. But after this long a time... she figured she could throw him a bone. For old times' sake. And because it had been funny.
She knew better than to laugh at his challenge, however. Which of them would win today would probably be a toss up. But, at the very least, she intended to make it extremely, extremely difficult for him. And she had been brushing up on her tactics, besides. She had very good reason to, with the mission to Umbar looming on the horizon.
"Gwestion could teach you," Arnyn said conversationally to Brooke, while she reassessed the board, Gwestion's possible plays and her own intent. "He has a travel set - and he is an excellent player. He didn't try and ask any of you for a game on the long trip here?" She could hardly imagine it not coming up. "I can't imagine Gladhron not asking for cards," she noted drily. Her attention shifted from Brooke back to Gwestion. "So why wouldn't you ask about chess?" Back to Brooke. "I think he would enjoy teaching someone like you."
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Her bright smile played down to a little smirk now, Arnyn watched his face as he made his move. She'd never given it away before, when she'd figured out his plan. But after this long a time... she figured she could throw him a bone. For old times' sake. And because it had been funny.
She knew better than to laugh at his challenge, however. Which of them would win today would probably be a toss up. But, at the very least, she intended to make it extremely, extremely difficult for him. And she had been brushing up on her tactics, besides. She had very good reason to, with the mission to Umbar looming on the horizon.
"Gwestion could teach you," Arnyn said conversationally to Brooke, while she reassessed the board, Gwestion's possible plays and her own intent. "He has a travel set - and he is an excellent player. He didn't try and ask any of you for a game on the long trip here?" She could hardly imagine it not coming up. "I can't imagine Gladhron not asking for cards," she noted drily. Her attention shifted from Brooke back to Gwestion. "So why wouldn't you ask about chess?" Back to Brooke. "I think he would enjoy teaching someone like you."
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Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - after noon
| | Gwestion, Brooke & Chewy
The day after the Masquerade - after noon
"Celume could also teach you," Gwestion mentioned, unsure if Brooke might feel more comfortable with a woman, even if she did seem mostly comfortable with him.
"Oh, he did," Brooke answered, about Gladhron asking for card games. "Just about every night." She shrugged and looked down.
"No one seemed interested." Gwestion answered quietly with a little shrug without looking up from the board. "I didn't pester them after that.. unlike someone else does, about card games." He added. When the ladies said they weren't interested, he'd let it drop. Gladhron however, was more persistent. And Brooke had hardly been able to be torn away from her book during the trip here.
"He is rather persistent," Brooke agreed with a little amusement. "I think he even tried to get Chewy to play, once." She added with a little laugh.
"Till he tried to chew up the cards. Then he decided that was a bad idea." Gwestion mentioned, glancing toward the dog with a little amusement.
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Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Arnyn frowned slightly when Brooke said Gladhron had asked almost every night. Something about the way she said it, made it sound like no one had ever agreed. Sure enough, Gwestion confirmed that with his very next words. Her frown deepened a little. Not even once? Not even one of them? Watching Gwestion, she figured - hoped - that they had been able to enjoy the journey here in different ways, then. She moved one of her pieces.
When Brooke mentioned Gladhron even tried getting Chewy to play, she raised an eyebrow. Skeptically. And as Gwestion added to what surely had to be a joke, she couldn't help herself. "Surely, you jest," she told Brooke in blatant disbelief. Then she narrowed her eyes at Gwestion. "You're poking fun at him, yes? The way he pokes fun at you?"
Arnyn
The day after the Masquerade - just past noon
Arnyn frowned slightly when Brooke said Gladhron had asked almost every night. Something about the way she said it, made it sound like no one had ever agreed. Sure enough, Gwestion confirmed that with his very next words. Her frown deepened a little. Not even once? Not even one of them? Watching Gwestion, she figured - hoped - that they had been able to enjoy the journey here in different ways, then. She moved one of her pieces.
When Brooke mentioned Gladhron even tried getting Chewy to play, she raised an eyebrow. Skeptically. And as Gwestion added to what surely had to be a joke, she couldn't help herself. "Surely, you jest," she told Brooke in blatant disbelief. Then she narrowed her eyes at Gwestion. "You're poking fun at him, yes? The way he pokes fun at you?"
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength
