House Dimaethor: A fortnight of games and festivities

[Pele Alarion]

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

"Yes, Minas Tirith," Pele said, a slightly amused grin on her face at Dulinneth's surprise. "Why not make use of the opportunity and take a vacation to come here. It is not that often that I can get away for pure enjoyment." Her hand went to her hair absent-mindedly to tuck away a disobedient strand that had come loose in the heat of the race. "The city is indeed large and beautiful, especially when sunset touches it."

She then looked sideways at her companion in conversation, a mischievous glint appearing in her blue eyes for a moment as she considered the words about ladies and racing.

"It is a pity that Lady Ilisys did not appear in the joust, I would have liked to see her performance, appropriate or not," she said. "And... I don't care much if there is a fuss about my desire for competition. Let the folk talk about this presumptuous Ranger Captain all they want. And who knows... even if your parents were against your racing now, they might give in once you are older and can stand by your own decisions."

Pele adjusted her step to that of Dulinneth's as she waited to see where the girl was heading; besides, she had not quite decided where she would be going next herself and this light conversation might give her time to decide.

"I'm sure all the horses enjoyed racing, unless their riders were mean to them in the process," she said, letting any sign of mischief fade and returning to a simple pleasant smile. "My horse is named Temper, quite appropriately. He is so prone to biting that I am slow to let anyone else handle him. He does not bite me in anger, and I am used to his affectionate nibbling. However, who knows how he might react to other people..."

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

Day 2, after the horse races
Near the stables/racing arena

"True!" Linn agreed, smiling. "I've always wondered what Minas Tirith looks like." She mentioned with a little sigh. "It sounds so beautiful. The White City, they call it. I have.. or, well, did have, a friend that lives there, who used to write me letters sometimes. I think she must've moved, though." She shrugged a bit sadly, but decided it was best not to get into that too much.

She began moving toward where Gaer was talking with Merry and his brother, while she and Pele talked. "Oh, yes, I was very disappointed that she didn't appear, too!" She agreed. "My friends and I were all going to cheer for her. I don't know why she didn't show up, but I hope maybe she can attend the next one." She sighed. "My brothers used to enjoy watching her joust, and they used to tell me about how wonderful she is," She giggled. "I guess I'll have to hope she competes in the next one."

Linn smiled when the lady suggested that she might try racing when she was older, but she was more surprised to learn that she was a ranger captain, and took a second glance at her. Interesting! "That would be nice. But I don't know if I would ever be allowed, for I must always be properly ladylike, which does not seem to include horse racing, according to my mother." She thought it would be too dull to get very much into all of that, so she decided to drop it. "But it was very nice watching you race, Captain." She smiled to hear the talk about the horses enjoying the race. "Yes, I think they did," She agreed. "Rhovan certainly enjoyed it; I could tell. He loves running." She grinned. "Temper does sound like a good name for him," She added, amused at the name of Pele's horse.

"Have you met any of that group there, Captain Alarion?" She asked, indicating the group they were approaching, with Gaer, Warder, and Merry. She was already trying to remember her lessons in which one ought to be introduced first, and in what way, and so on and so forth, while hoping she wouldn't mess up and it would end up getting back to her mother, who would scold her about it.

---

Elsewhere on the grounds...

It was a large, crowded event. It had been advertised and promoted for weeks ahead of time. Everyone who was anyone was here, apparently, which made it quite easy to blend in. In addition to all of the nobility and such, there were masses of commoners and servants and other folks milling excitedly about. The girl was, for one of the few times that she could recall, wearing a dress. She had chosen to go against her usual ways, so that she could disguised herself as a servant. In fact, in addition to the dress, she had even borrowed an apron and a hair covering, which marked her as kitchen staff for the Dimaethor estate. She would have it returned by the end of the day, but for now, it provided her with an excellent excuse to spend a good deal of time in the kitchen, like many others who had been hired on to help with preparing the banquet; chopping vegetables and scrubbing pots, and so forth. Not only did she manage to munch on a few bits and morsels of food as she aided in the food preparation, but she had also found another good use for that time.

While she worked, following the instructions of the head chef, the fake servant was also subtly gathering information from the other, more gossipy girls who worked alongside her. Apparently, very few of the guests were housed in the guest wing of the Dimaethor estate; only those who were closest friends of the family, such as a ranger captain from Minas Tirith, and the Talvens. That name meant nothing to her. The other nobles, according to Anna(the girl who was working beside her), would be either staying in the inns around the area, or would have tents set up somewhere in the designated areas. Most of the noble family names that came up during the conversation had no meaning to her, although a couple of them gave her pause. But decided not to let that bother her, and instead focused on learning what she could about the man she had come to find.

There was little known about him, except that he was somehow associated with something unfavorable which had occurred in the jousting arena the prior day. She listened with curiosity as that tale was recounted. So, he was here, right? He must be, if he had people here from his estate, right? Now, she just had to figure out where he was staying, and how she was going to manage her plan. After a while, she had an idea that made her smile inwardly.

“Hey, Anna,” She paused briefly from dish-washing, to look at the girl who was working on drying them. “I wonder, do you know how to write?”

“Sure.” Anna replied. “Why?”

Hesitating, the other glanced around, then smiled as she leaned in a little closer, conspiratorially. “I wonder, would you do me a favor?”

“What is it?” Anna looked at her curiously.

“Well, um, I’ve kinda got this game going, with a friend, and I wondered if you’d write a brief note for me?” She explained.

Anna looked a bit amused. “A note? What sort of game would this be?”

“Umm, it’s sort of like ‘hide and seek’ but through notes, I guess.” After glancing around, she spotted a notepad on the counter, where the chef was keeping a checklist of everything that needed to be done. Quickly drying her hands on a towel, the false servant hurried over while the chef was out of the room for a moment. She flipped to a fresh page, then offered it to Anna, while taking a careful glance around to make sure that no one was observing them.

“What should I write?” Anna asked, intrigued as she took the quill, though a bit nervous about being caught.

“Oh.. just write, ‘Catch me if you can’,” the other girl replied, watching as Anna wrote on the paper. “And, would you sign it, ‘your redheaded friend’?”

Anna glanced at her curiously.

“It’s a part of the game.” She explained.

Still looking curious, Anna nodded and wrote that down, then carefully tore the page out and handed it to the other. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” She grinned and made sure that the note pad and quill were back where the chef had left it. After waiting a moment for the ink to dry, she folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. “Thanks, Anna.” She said, then hurried back to the washbasin to finish washing the pots.

“Seems like a curious sort of game,” Anna mentioned, clearly fishing for more information.

“Yes… it’s sort of a private thing between us two,” The other replied evasively. “But thanks for writing that for me.” She smiled. “This way, it’ll leave him guessing a whole lot more than if I’d written it.” She explained. "I don't want him recognizing my writing too soon." She offered an excuse for why she didn't write it herself.

“Right.. I see. Well, you’re welcome.” Anna smiled and grabbed the towel to dry the pot as it was handed to her. “Have you seen any of the competitions so far?” She asked, and the two launched a new conversation.

The false servant girl remained in the kitchen for a little while longer, gathering bits of information, mostly useless, but some useful. Until, at last, she managed to slip out when she was granted a break for lunch.

Once the girl had successfully sneaked away.. something which she happened to be exceedingly good at.. she wasted no time in putting to use some of the information she’d gathered, and set off toward the tent area. According to Anna, each tent would have some sort of emblem or flag or something to identify which noble house it belonged to, so she walked along the rows, looking at each grouping of tents. She paused briefly at one small pair of tents, which bore an emblem she recognized, but it was not the one she was looking for. She resisted the temptation to go and seek her friend. She might not even be there, the girl told herself.

She kept going, absently checking that her hair was still fully concealed by the head scarf she wore tucked around her head, mentally thanking Anna for having shown her how to tie it on in such a way that it would keep her hair out of the way. After a while, as she neared the area overlooking the cliffs over the sea, she slowed her steps as she looked thoughtfully at another grouping of tents. The standard that fluttered in the breeze made her feel as if she ought to know it, but she could not think of why, nor could she attach any name to the images shown on the standard. And yet, it was still not the one she had been looking for. None of the tents she had seen bore that emblem, so she assumed that meant that the man she sought was not lodging in a tent. Therefore, she didn’t venture too near any of them. Instead, she gave one last glance at the strangely familiar flag flying over the cliffs, then turned and headed for the inn. All the while, she was trying to look as if she were on some important errand as a servant.

It took a while to get to the inn, and by that time, the joust tournament was over for the day, and she passed a few other activities happening. She briefly scanned the faces of any man she saw who looked about the right size and age, but did not see him in any of the gatherings. How was she going to find out if he was, indeed, staying in the inn? And if so, how would she manage to learn which room he was in? She was pondering on this, glancing up at the inn as she approached it, when she saw the man himself, staring out of one of the upper windows.

Catching her breath, her first instinct was to freeze in her steps. But, knowing that would draw more attention to her than anything, she forced herself to keep going as if she had not noticed anything that gave her any alarm. He did not seem to be looking at her, she noticed, while subtly sneaking a look up at him through her lashes. His gaze remained focused beyond her, from what she could tell. The girl kept walking, her heart pounding. If he took a closer look at her face, would he recognize it? Even without being able to see her hair? She knew she was doing a very risky thing. It was probably stupid, and dangerous, and might very well end up very badly for her. But she was going to do it, regardless. For the sake of, hopefully, helping a friend. And that friend's family.

She walked past the inn and stopped at the corner of the building next to it, where he could not see her from his window. Then, after waiting a few minutes, she doubled back and entered the inn. As she stepped into the lobby, she was expecting to have to make up some excuse to get past the innkeeper, but to her relief, the man was busy in another room. She hastened up the steps before he could come see who had entered, while once more checking that her head scarf covered her hair well enough.

Once she had reached the top of the steps, she frowned. Which door went to his room? They were all closed. She looked down the hallway, unsure what to do now. She knew that it would be one of the rooms on the right side of the hall, but she had not thought to count the windows while she was approaching the inn. Partly, because she had not wanted to stare at the windows too long. Still, she knew that it would be one of the ones down toward the end. Cautiously, the false servant ventured forward until she had reached the last few doors of the hallway, putting an ear to each one for a moment, but none of them yielded any useful noises. Most people were either out for the day, quietly resting inside, or else the rooms were not all occupied. Perhaps the man had reserved more than one room, so he had more space? She realized that it was possible, if he had as much money as he seemed to have. So, now what? She didn’t dare try to get into every room, just to find him. And besides, she didn’t want to get in there while he was in there. She held back a sigh and was debating what to do when she heard a light set of footsteps on the stairs.

Hastily, the girl glanced around, then slipped behind the floor-length drapes that framed the window at the far end of the hall, which allowed some natural light to enter the hallway, thus preventing the need for candles during the daytime. Fortunately, she’d been standing rather close to it already. Pressing her back to the wall beside the window, she listened as someone, a girl not too far off from her own age, came to the top of the steps, walked slowly down the length of the hall, and stopped a few doors down from the end. This new girl paused, hesitated a moment as if to brace herself, then gave a rather peculiar pattern of knock against the door.

This intrigued the girl hiding behind the curtain. She debated peeking around the thick drapes that concealed her, but she thought better of it. When the door opened, the voice of the man confirmed what she had suspected. It was him. The one she was seeking. Once the two had withdrawn inside, she waited for a moment before cautiously emerging from her hiding place, and tiptoed over to press her ear to the door.

“…next message is even more important.” She heard the man saying. “I need you to find Tobedir Thormaetha. You’ll likely find him hanging around the falcon tent or something. Off in the hunting grounds.” The next bit was a bit harder to catch, but then she heard something about someone who had saved a little girl.

“Oh! Yes, m’lord, he was quite heroic, wasn-.” The girl’s voice broke off what she’d been saying, and then her voice was too quiet to be heard.

The eavesdropper frowned then, straining her ears to try and catch the quieter words that followed. “…And make sure that his two friends aren’t anywhere around, when you deliver it.” Her frown intensified as she heard the message he wanted the girl to deliver. Something about this all seemed… suspicious. Perhaps it was simply because she knew how evil and dangerous this man was. That he was a cruel and scheming type of fellow who would do anything, without any conscience. But she couldn’t exactly try and warn the girl about that, and she didn’t know who this person was that would be receiving this message. The voices grew quieter for a moment after the other girl had repeated back the message a few times, but then the man’s voice came a bit clearer.

“Alright then, go.”

Tensing, the girl at the door recognized that as her cue to return to her hiding place. But, as she began to withdraw, she caught something more that the girl said. She must have been nearer to the door, now.

“My lord.. when I’ve completed this task..”

“What?”

“You.. you told me you’d take me to Lady Alyssa, once I’d finished helping you. And I just wondered.. when?”

Curious, the fake servant girl lingered, listening for the answer to this. After a few seconds, she heard the man respond, but she had to press her ear a little harder against the door, her heart hammering away so hard she feared they might hear it through the door.

“So I did.” His words were very quiet. “Yes. I think, after this, I will have no further need of you. I’ll arrange ship passage for you. I know much you miss her.”

Frowning, the eavesdropper wondered about that. That didn’t sound good to her. But the girl in the room sounded a bit happier to hear it.

“Thank you, sir. And.. what of my family? They… I mean, no harm will come to them.. right? I’ve done everything you said…”

If the eavesdropper hadn’t been standing right by the door, her ear pressed to it, she would not have heard the soft voice of the girl. Nor the response from the man.

“So long as you complete this last task, your family is safe.” His voice sounded almost bored. “Just go, and don’t mess it up.” This came louder. “Go on, now.” His voice took on a slightly angered tone, and this time, the eavesdropper swiftly withdrew and ducked behind the curtain just as the door opened to let the other girl exit in haste. Curious, she did peek out now, and got a brief look at the other girl before she had disappeared down the steps.

From behind the curtain, the redhead debated for a moment, keeping her back pressed to the wall beside the window. Half of her wanted to go after that girl, but then.. what would she say? To be wary of that man, that he was up to something and that she shouldn’t trust him to do as he said he’d do? That would invite a whole load of questions that she couldn’t answer. And, besides, for all she knew, the girl might already be aware of that. Or she might go straight back to him, and tell him about her. No… as much as she wanted to warn the girl, she had her own task to perform.

A moment later, she felt very glad that she had not emerged from her hiding place, after all. The door opened again, and he came striding out. She held her breath again, tensing, readying to fight or flee, but he had no idea she was there. He took off down the stairs, then paused to speak with the innkeeper once he’d reached the lobby. Their voices carried well enough up the stairs that she could hear them, and a slow smile appeared on her face as she heard him say that he was heading off to watch some of the remaining events of the afternoon, and that he didn’t expect to return until after tonight's banquet. Good. That gave her plenty of time...

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron with Lord Emeredir Azrubêl.
accompanying Lady Azraindil Dimaethor, to find her friend.
After the Horse race, Day 2

As the young lady referenced the picnic they’d attended earlier that day, Emeredir might have hid a smile. If he was not yet so young that downplaying emotions was not a skill well practiced. As it was, he beamed quite happily in the wake of Azraindil’s kindness, and duly tucked himself into a bow, to demonstrate his thanks after his brother had glanced his way. Hoping that he had just corrected the cause for that glance.

“I thought to see your friend already at your side,” he admitted, as their young hostess mentioned her plan to find Dulinneth. “Lady Talven was also at our picnic,” Merry let his brother know in an aside. The elder man nodded, not so much because he had been aware of this, but because he approved of the company. “I do not think we have any obligations either ..” the young Lord began, and then cut off as he checked with a glance to his sibling. “Oh apart from dinner. We shall be expected to ready for this evening’s dinner.” A faint blush rose at the pale cheeks, for the dinner was at the young lady's household of course ! His first proper social dinner !

“There is enough time for you to see the lady safe to her friend’s company first, I’m sure,” Anardil mentioned, with a slight rise of one hand to indicate to his brother where the second young lady in question was within sight. He could hardly counsel a lady higher than he in standing on the fact that she should not be strolling about all on her own. Even on her own grounds, since he could not exactly explain to her why, today of all days, it was maybe even less wise than usual to do so. He did not wish to scare her. And since he knew Isys was no doubt this very minute warning Abrazimir of their little ‘unexpected news’, hopefully the Lord would be able to relay that to his parents, his people .. without causing any evident panic to further disrupt the festivities.


“I am looking forward to that,” Merry assured his kinswoman, obliviously in the meantime. “Even Mama agreed it would be educational to observe such things. And she is not so delicate about archery. She does not know we strayed to watch the horse racing,” he confided, holding up his hand as though no other could hear this latest shared ‘secret’ if he did so. After his niece’s stunt this morning, he was going to have to now work very hard to convince the reigning mothers that he was safe to ride a horse. Even supervised. They were oh so precious over protecting him, let alone in the wake of such a near disaster. “To see you present the event is another reason she will not be able to refuse me,” he grinned, knowingly. After all, one day he too would be expected to speak so, publicly, and as well as Azraindil had done at the horse racing. The thought was equally exciting and intimidating as yet for the boy though. To have entire crowds .. looking all at you, hanging on your every word .. it was a lot. Thankfully it was yet far off.

“All the horses ran very well,” he agreed with the lady, noting with a little curiosity why his brother was so quiet all of a sudden. What was the man thinking on which could be more important than talking with Azraindil herself ?! The two women whom they could plainly see now fast approaching, maybe ?


“A fine steed,” Anardil put in then, feeling his brother’s eyes upon him from that important small step behind, and drawing back from where he’d noted they were fast approaching the little Lady Dulinneth and also Captain Alarion. “It is an exceptional shame that the young lady did not get to see it for herself,” he mentioned then.

“I have begun instruction, and it is very thrilling,” Merry answered the noblewoman at hand. “Do you ride sidesaddle, my lady ? Or .. oh see ! Here is Lady Dulinneth !”


Anardil swallowed the breath which had begun to catch in his throat, at the subject that his younger brother might have inadvertently brought up. In front of a lady ! He was very glad then to note that they had come close enough now to the other small group, that they could converse without need to shout. And Merry’s new friend was with an old friend of his own.

“My lady, Captain,” the squire greeted each of them in turn.

“Hirilion nin,” Emeredir bowed, before the new arrivals, and resorted back to Sindarin again in his greeting, as the lady Azraindil had led him to suspect this was expected. And now he could prove that he knew how to refer to ladies, plural, rather than simply repeating the same phrase for each of them. It was also simpler than trying to work out whether a noblewoman or a captain held the seniority, when they were both female. That .. didn’t happen often and certainly had not been an example in the archaic books his governess taught him from. “We are outnumbered ..” the small boy whispered to his brother, in a way that few could miss. The smile that indicated he was enjoying such pleasant company, was equally hard to miss. He had entirely forgotten that they were supposed to hurry back and prepare for dinner.

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie@Pele Alarion@Rillewen

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

Her eyebrows were piqued the furthest they could rise on her brow when Merry mentioned Azraindil’s friend. There had been a half dozen young ladies at that picnic but Merry mentioned by name only Lady Talven. Dulinneth. Azraindil glanced at Anardil to see if he picked up this especial note of her best friend, before smiling back at the young Lord, marveling at this curiosity and pointed mention of Linny. How very curious!

”I hope to see you at dinner then, my Lord. Perhaps you might sit with me.” Azraindil offered to Merry, as seated in Azraindil’s company would also be Dulinneth as well. Surely he could watch on. And she would get to see what this adorable fascination was about. But the little Lordling would not have to wait long. Dulinneth along with the Captain, Alarion, were well within sight and walking distance, soon to join them.

”Well your straying is secret and safe with me.” Azraindil assured Merry, knowing what stern parents could be like. ”Or better yet, when I go up to officiate the event, maybe you could stand with me? No need to speak or anything. Just be present, to escort a Lady there and back to her seat. Would you like that?” She offered Merry, letting him get a shot at public appearances and all. It would be pleasant and formal, a lady of House Dimaethor and the Lord of House Azrubel making a presentation together, like cooperative and close neighbours ought to.

The talk turned to horses and both brothers were agreeable that all horses performed admirably. ”A very unfortunate shame, given it was her horse who won. Perhaps you’d like to regale her of it?” Azraindil agreed with Anardil, while also casting another opening to Merry to spark conversation with her friend. As if Dulinneth did not already know. But that was a secret.

She was about to answer the query about riding sidesaddle when Merry called out, very pointedly, the arrival of Lady Dulinneth. Azraindil again glanced at Anardil, needing someone to just recognize and share in this adorable attentiveness, though she not only saw that in the older brother’s face, but something akin to worry. About the attentions towards Dulinneth or the other topic that was cut off? Riding sidesaddle was important for women for a variety of reasons, few of which the little Lord would probably understand at his age. Frankly, Azraindil was quite puzzled herself at the so-called protective nature of it, but that was not a conversation to be had around menfolk.

”Linny!” Azraindil greeted her friend first of the approaching duo, pretending to be surprised as this was supposed to be her interaction with Dulinneth since before the race. ”Your ears must be ringing.” She said coyly, indicating that they had been talking about her. In a pleasant way. ”Your horse was so formidable during the race. I am glad the rider was deft and skilled with Traelion.” She gave Dulinneth a friendly embrace and then stood back and turned to Pele Alarion.

”And you, Captain Alarion,” Azraindil performed a little curtsey for the older woman and officer, ”you rode so fabulously as well. You should have deserved some merit or recognition too but my father believes in a very firm and austere winner-take-all sort of policy for these games, I’m afraid.” She frowned a little in sympathy.

”We were just discussing the races, and the other events to follow.” Azraindil informed the newcomers, before turning back to the brothers. ”You all know each other, right? We were just talking about how unfortunate it was you could not witness your steed’s triumph, Dulinneth. Lord Emeredir here hopes to be a champion racer one day himself. Or at least I suspect he will be.” She said, tying the newcomers in to their present conversation.

”Shall we adjourn to the other fields and events, my ladies, gentlemen?” She then beckoned to the group.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

Day 2, after the horse races

Linn was quite pleased, and relieved, when it became evident that Captain Alarion was already acquainted with the others in the party. That took some of the stress off from her, at least, since she didn't have to introduce anyone, apparently. She responded to Merry's bow with a curtsy. "My lord, sir." She greeted the two, then glanced a bit quizzically toward Gaer at her comment. But she was also pleased by the talk of her horse doing so well, and nodded eagerly. "Yes, Rhovan did wonderfully, didn't he?" She said happily as she returned the hug to Gaer. "Traelion rode well, but Rhovan ran well." She said proudly. "Just as I knew he would."

Linn nodded when Gaer agreed that Captain Alarion had rode well, also. "It is a shame there is no second prize," She agreed. "Temper was so close to Rhovan!" She praised the captain's horse, but then turned to Gaer when she mentioned what a shame it was that she hadn't seen the race. But Linn had already told the ranger captain that she'd watched it, and so she couldn't really change stories, now. "Oh, but I did." She beamed happily. "I was watching from the stable, over there. From the upper loft window," She explained. Which is where the real Traelion had been watching from, he said, so she knew it was possible. "I wanted to be at the stable as soon as Rhovan came," She explained, hoping it would seem like a reasonable explanation.

She turned then to Merry, slightly surprised when her friend said that he wanted to be a chamion racer, someday. "That sounds like a very exciting prospect. I wish you well, if that is what you wish to do." She told him, wondering how long it would be before his family allowed him to do such things. He was younger than her, after all, and while he would surely be permitted to do things like that, if he wanted, it would surely be a several years.

Gaer's question, about adjourning to other events, reminded her that they had some plans to meet Meressel and Dina, for some sneaky archery practice. They needed to hurry if they didn't want to be late. "Yes, I want to see what else there is going on," She answered eagerly. "This is all very exciting, isn't it?" She linked arms with Gaer, hoping that she would be able to extricate them from their company, so they could meet up with the other girls.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron with Lord Emeredir Azrubêl.
accompanying Lady Azraindil Dimaethor, to Captain Pele Alarion and Lady Dulinneth Talven.
After the Horse race, Day 2

“I do not see how they could protest,” Anardil assured his brother, “were you to observe the Lady in her officiating role,” he clarified. And the lack of a similar assurance about the two young nobles sitting together at dinner, without any supportive aide at hand, served a subtle suggestion that such a thing would be less easily approved. Leave the child to his own devices ? After such a day of learning how far that could go awry ?!

“I believe I should like that very much, thank you,” Merry proved he was not Airelen however, following the example of Azraindil, and accepting at least one of her kind offers. Without clarifying which one, though at least expressing a desire, apparently for the both.


The elder sibling had merely nodded to their hostess, when she suggested he ‘regale’ her young lady friend with praise. But as the two small groups came together, it was Azraindil herself who first spoke so approvingly to the horse’s owner. Both of them.

“It is good to hear that you were able to observe the race, from a safe distance,” Merry smiled shyly toward Dulinneth as the youngest Talven explained where she had been seated throughout. Had that been a decision inspired by his niece’s reckless antics at the joust earlier ? But no, Azraindil had mentioned that her friend had been about an ‘errand’ of some sort, had she not ? The young man puzzled over that a moment, but knew better than to ask. It must have been an errand to do with Rhovan but beyond that, he could only hazard a guess.

Merry had supposed somehow that 'Linny's errand had been more of a private desire to look in upon her injured father, after his bold jousting efforts. Though of course, he could not ask after the older knight, without also making enquiry about Azraindil's brave brother also. And he ought not have them believe that he cared only for the more dangerous sport.

“Lady Dulinneth is an aspiring artist,” he instead told his brother, and the group; following his neighbour’s polite example at introductions and exchange of information. The name of Caeleb Eglathor had also been put forward as a likely enthusiast of their family gallery but, since that new friend was not present, the young lord focused upon what little he knew of the ones who were.


“Captain, may I introduce Lord Emeredir Azrubel” the squire completed the last of the actual introductions, with a polite nod toward Pele.

“I am his brother,” the younger man explained to the Ranger. Without going into the quite obvious detail of their having different fathers, wed some decades apart to their same mutual mother. “And it is an honour,” he made an effort to copy Anardil’s calm duck of the chin, despite his being so much younger. He had been schooled for this. “Perhaps I might ask you for introductions to this Traelion some time, my lady,” the young lord smiled keenly as Dulinneth offered him good wishes in his racing ambitions. It would have been impolite to mention that his kinswoman had slightly exaggerated about his goals and prowess, but still he could hardly be sorry for such a generous compliment as she’d made. "I would appreciate a chance to speak with such a horse-racing expert."

“Such as the formidable racer we have stood at hand,” Anardil prompted quietly, indicating his friend.

“But of course,” the small boy beamed toward Pele. “So long as it should be a time which is no bother to you. Lady Azraindil’s family have organised great feasts and dancing soon, I believe.” He recalled what the Lady Meressel had seemed most excited about, at the picnic. Never dreaming that the other young ladies might already have other very different recreations in mind.


“I believe that we have still to prepare for that very great feast and dancing,” Anardil glanced meaningfully toward Merry, who looked noticeably disappointed at the thought of leaving this latest social interaction. He was so enjoying them all ! “The ladies are doubtless keen to ready for that excitement themselves, without we men at hand to trouble them. May we see you safely toward your fine lodging, ladies ?”

The older man offered, hoping that the mention of dinner would perhaps remind the ladies of their own need to go dress and ready for dinner, in some safe place. Castle Dimaethor itself, in all likelihood. For though it would not be uncouth to abandon a sizeable party of three ladies to their leisure at a social event, particularly when one of those ladies was a very competent Ranger Captain .. the squire was still aware of a certain .. history .. which made him concerned for her welfare, for all their welfare .. even while he had no wish to alarm them. And no wish either to delay from safeguarding his own wife and daughter, and mother .. Never had there seemed so many to consider with concern at one time.

[Ercassie]

The Lady Eressild and Lady Sirdis Azrubêl
attended by Elen. in their assigned pavilion.
After the Joust/during the Horse race. Day 2.

No sooner had the veil of their sanctuary fallen to a close behind them, but the two ladies relaxed. There were set upholstered, high backed chairs, and also piles of cushions at hand, and it was unto the latter that the pair of ‘grand’ noblewomen came to rest. Elen hastened then to seek out the readied refreshments that she had put thought to and sent word to duly be prepared.

“So we shall see the Thormaethas brought to dinner this eve, and call upon Lady Himhathol tomorrow,” Eressild reminded herself, if not her companion, of their growing list of obligations. “It is about time the nonsensical drama between the Dimaethors and our dear Falconers were put to rest.”


“That is why you encouraged Master Dravedir to arrange his exhibition,” Sirdis assumed, without meeting her friend’s eye. “The children in particular seem to delight at his showcase. But are you sure it is fair to the man, Eress ? To deliver him up unto the audience of Lord Dimaethor ? If he should be in any way considered responsible for his son’s .. ways … In front of everyone ?”

“We are all to some degree counted responsible for that,” the grander lady sighed. “And it ends, tonight. The boy conducted himself above and beyond all expectation this day. None can deny it. And there will be no better time to put the affairs of unfortunate past to bed. Your cousins wrote you of the boy’s vindicated character, did they not ?”

“They did,” Sirdis agreed, shifting her skirts. “Still I can not forget that he is young, and unprepared to face the likes of our neighbour. Besides which does the raising of the matter at all not give rise to our grand daughter’s behaviour ? Without which no emergency resolution ought even be necessary !”


Eressild dismissed the concern with a distracted wave of one hand. “Oh that will give Zainaben a perfectly pleasing excuse to instruct me how to better mind our folk, and there is naught as like to put him in a better mood.” She let her chin nod pointedly at the edge of an assured smile. “Nobody was killed. And the drama of the spectacle will guarantee a conversation piece about his event for decades to come. He may pout, my dear, but he has only gained the greater infamy. Meanwhile the child is young, and shall bear no dent in her reputation for it. And ..”

“And very fortunately, you are already to meet Sir Macardil’s mother,” Sirdis shook her head, glad that she had not set up that encounter, as surely Eressild was better suited to manage it, particularly now. “With perfect climes to smooth over the peril her son faced as consequence.”

“You mean Lord Macardil, dear. He’s not a sir,” her friend corrected her. “Only a knight is a sir.”

“Well he certainly seems to have turned the tide of opinion in an exceedingly short span of time,” Sirdis sounded impressed. The two friends had gone from having never heard of the man before two days ago, to hearing all about the rumours of his apparent crime, and yet still witnessed the absolute swell of popularity that his sportsmanship had garnered even thus far in the competition. If ever there were evidence required of how the mood of society could shift, it had been already delivered.


“They shall recall his bravery and forget our .. dare.” Eressild seemed to be of the opinion. “Besides, there are other matters which inspired my seeking out Lady Silivren."

To that Sirdis merely assented with an agreeable smile. Whatever Eressild was up to, she was too overwhelmed already to consider it. Or so she believed ..

“Do I understand that you shall be entertaining yourself with Lady Talven, while I am indisposed tomorrow ?” Eressild prompted another opportunity to be proven right, her favourite recreation.

“I .. ” Sirdis opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of how vastly she wished to discuss her son’s future with her friend. “I merely felt an opportunity to become better acquainted with Lady Duvaineth might be no bad thing,” she admitted. “The Talven’s have trade agreements with Lond Col. After all,” she indicated that she had not simply fallen upon opportunity by chance. “I can not boast ever really meeting them before now.”

“I have met them,” Eressild sighed. “Many times. Though it has been a considerable time since the last.” She remembered with a silence which recalled quite ‘why’. “That new Lord of hers is dreadfully assertive,”

“The same has been said of you, dear,” her friend recalled, with a veil of tease.

“Well he has grown worse, by my observation,” Eressild bristled. “Or she has diminished somewhat in her temperament of recent years, and he but seems more malapert now that the contrast is more marked, who can say ?” The Lady cast her aquamarine gaze upon her friend, sister, confidante, before she added, “You would not be assuming any prospects of a betrothal, between our dear Emeredir and little Dulinneth, by any chance ?”


Caught out in her aspirations before she had ever properly acknowledged them herself, Sirdis tightened her lips and re-ordered her thoughts before allowing them to be spoken. “Does his own mother not have the right to nurture interest and designs upon his future ?”

“I only would say, dear, that there has been a longstanding agreement between the Dimaethors and Talvens,” Eressild toyed with the precious pendant that adorned her white throat. “One that it feels thus rather superfluous to add to, by coaxing the Talven girl toward our Azrubel heir as well. You might look toward securing other additional houses and alliances for the estate. Your son shall likely have good pick. And if you ask me,”

“I did not ask you,” Sirdis interjected, almost automatically. Albeit so gentle it was scarce audible.


“Well, allow me to endow a little counsel all the same,” Eressild returned, unfazed, regardless. “You do not want to throw away the potential for allies on an ally who is already entwined in the estate.”

“I do … not ...” Sirdis seemed unsure, of her mind or else uncertain whether she ought argue more profoundly for her own stake in her child’s future. She had not forgot how Eressild had reportedly broached enquiries of Emeredir learning at the hand of Abrazimir Dimaethor. Or indeed, whichever brave contender might win the joust championship.

“Expand your thoughts to a wider array of options, if you are wise,” Eressild persevered. “If the Taurebor heir returns ..”

“I had heard it said that he is lost,” Sirdis admitted.

“Well certainly do not allow Duvainneth to interpret that as your inspiration !” her friend was all but aghast. “It shall do you no favours in winning her favour of a prospect for her daughter at any rate.” Eressild yawned. “And where is … your son, if I may ask ? Did Warder not go in search of him already ? There is much to make ready before we set for dinner.”

“My sons have never yet been late,” Sirdis acknowledged, proudly. Though drew short of remarking upon how unpredictable Eressild’s sole child could prove. “Do you know shall your daughter in fact be joining us ?” Was as much as she dared.

”I swear, it is akin to herding cats, to see this family together and turned out !” Eressild leaned back into the cushions and closed her eyes.

With a smile her best friend leaned back also, albeit more carefully. “Well she can not keep Sir .. Lord Abrazimir from his family’s own feast,” Sirdis assumed. "Not even for .." she began and finished, her friend's eyes fast upon her. A new sigh was forthcoming.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

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

"The White City is indeed beautiful, but each place has its own beauty. I certainly enjoy the closeness of the sea while here," Pele told Linn, and decided not to pursue the matter of writing letters as her young companion did not seem intent on that topic. "Well, there are too many rules for ladies, I say," she then laughed lightly and added, "Perhaps you can do some secret racing at some point then, if you can escape your chaperones."

"Ah..." she was about to respond how many of the group they were approaching she knew, but she was already enveloped in conversation after brief greetings before she could even finish her sentence.

Azraindil's curtsey that went along with the compliment made Pele wonder what was a proper way to respond to this: she was not wearing a skirt that would make a curtsey look appropriate, nor was she in uniform or speaking to people in uniform to offer a military salute, but apparently some gesture would be good in return. Eventually she simply placed her palm over her heart and made as if she would be going a curtsey, yet only ended up offering the very beginning of it with every slightly bent knees. Even though she felt amused by her own conduct, she managed to keep some sort of seriousness on her face as she replied: "A loss is a loss, I suppose, even if it is just by a breadth of a thumb nail. The experience itself was worth enjoying and very invigorating."

"Pleased to meet you, Lord Emeredir," she then responded with a smile for the lad who seemed to be the youngest of their company, and then added, while giving Warder a slightly teasing side eye, "And your brother is certainly a very fine gentleman, so make sure to learn from him all you can."

She had half a mind to explore the grounds and see what else could be discovered, but it seemed that Anardil was intent on herding them all towards preparations for the feast and dance to be held in the evening. Besides, she could not quite figure out if he was only offering a gentleman's pleasantry in offering to accompany them or was there a tinge of genuine concern that she detected there? Safely - he had said.

"A feast..." she said, wondering if she could actually avoid it and do something unladylike instead. Such as finding some other sport to join and try her skills at. "Are you sure I am expected there, Anardil? In that case I assume I should indeed exchange the current outfit for something more appropriate."

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie@Pele Alarion@Rillewen

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

It was delightful to hear Emeredir assent to joining Azraindil for some officiating, if even in a silent capacity. Just to be seen. It would be very diplomatic for both Houses of Lond Côl showing unity and solidarity. Proud of me now, Adar? She tried to hide her knowing smile as Linny talked about speculating the race and her horse and all. By the Valar, what a conspiracy they had! It seemed so devious despite being so innocent. But if only they knew what the girl’s parents were like.

Pele and Linny joined them and both brothers were soon introduced to Captain Alarion, whom Azraindil had only met yesterday through her brother. Being an officer and a miliary woman, it didn’t even cross Azraindil’s mind that Pele should know or not know the appropriate decorum. Her service and deeds in defense of Gondor should give her a pass from all this stuffy tradition, should it not? She’d happily trade it to hear any stories from Pele about Abrazimir. But perhaps another time. They had the last vestiges of sunlight before the evening banquets and merrymaking and the girls had yet another conspiracy to attend to.

Pele pondered about a change of outfit and Anardil offered to escort the girls to their next destination – which they couldn’t, for fear of discovering their other conspiracy. Linny linked her arm with Azraindil, something so instinctively that she didn’t even need to think about wounding her arm back around her friend’s. And giving a little tug in a secret message to indicate…she knew time was of the essence.

But first, Azraindil turned to Anardil and smiled. ”Without a doubt indeed we are excited. You two though are never trouble in our presence. Come, we are neighbourhoods and you are a comrade of my brother, and the great Lady Azrubêl, you are like kin here.” She assured Anardil, to not be so worried about them.

To Pele though, Azraindil thought a moment about her outfit issue. A Captain of Gondor, equal in status to Lords and Heads of noble families, she could have gone as she was, her merit speaking for her in ways a dress couldn’t. But if she was concerned, there were means. ”Captain, you are always welcome at my father’s table, I’m sure of it. If a dress is what you need…well, you seem about my sister’s height, and she left many of her dresses behind when she moved for her marriage. If you might locate my brother, he might assist you with that regard, and find you a handmaiden to help you dress?” She suggested charitably.

”Naturally, I would be happy to help, and more than willing to accept your offer of escort, Sir,” she turned back to Anardil and performed a curtsey, ”but Linny – Dulinneth – and I actually wish to meet some of our other friends, for a preplanned get together before the feasts.” She looked to Dulinneth, now with an open, knowing smile. ”Outfit coordination and all…” she lied vaguely, but that seemed a thing young women would do and certainly had no place for menfolk to be involved. ”And it is in a differing direction than back to the castle. But rest assured, I know these lands well, and we will be entirely safe and without the need of an escort.” Everyone around were her people, or friends of her people, and there need not be a cause for worry.

”Maybe you might bring Captain Alarion to the home and find my brother there…?” She suggested, not in fact knowing her brother was across the river at the home of the Azrubêls at that moment. But someone at the Dimaethor estate could help Pele with an outfit change if necessary. Then she offered up a teasing, joking smile. ”But of course if you brave warriors might lose your way and need an escort and guide yourselves…I might be inclined to help.” She jested towards them Anardil and Merry, so gallant as they were, but she and Linny had other plans and schemes.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

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

"I do have a dress or two with me in addition to... clothes meant for adventures," Pele admitted to Azraindil with a light-hearted laugh. "But I am very grateful for the hospitality and any available extra options which I'm sure are much fancier than my dresses." She could easily understand that the girls might have planned something before the feasts together with other friends of theirs, so she looked to Warder to see if he would not insist on going with them.

She straightened as if ready to to run march off at a brisk pace though no other movement followed as she waited to see where everyone else would be headed to. She could have also insisted that she could find the way around all by herself, but she would also be completely satisfied having the company of Anardil and his brother for some friendly chat if they came towards the castle as well.

"I'm sure these warriors could find their way no problem," Pele laughed again as she took to defending Anardil and Merry with a slight tease of her own. "But you, ladies, seem not eager to let them do a gentlemanly duty in making sure you do not trip over some root and get dust on your dresses."

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron with Lord Emeredir Azrubêl.
After the Horse race, Day 2. In the esteemed and growing increasingly more awkward company
of Captain Pele Alarion, Lady Azraindil Dimaethor, and Lady Dulinneth Talven.

Merry had not been witness to the Ranger’s hand on heart gesture before, yet still the young man recognised it as an offering of respect from Captain Alarion. He beheld the lady officer, just as poised and no less astounding than the grander-dressed young women. “You are Lord Dimaethor’s guest,” he joined the group in not hearing of Pele missing out on the set meal. “You can not miss a feast that your host is holding,” he advised her with a knowing shake of his small head.

Anardil watched on with a knowing smile as the noble young folks rallied the ranger to come to the fancy dinner. “You are staying in his halls,” he added to the encouragement. “It will be expected.” And it seemed that Pele was already won over, though her garb had her concerned. But of course Lady Azraindil had the answer. Or rather her elder sister had an unsupervised dressing room full of opportunity.


“Your friend is very kind and helpful, is she not ?” Merry remarked aside, praising Azraindil to the Lady Dulinneth, for he would not have the latter feel at all left out of the conversation. Though the two young ladies had already linked arms, as though they were bound to one mind and will between the two of them.

Young Lady Dimaethor’s offer had certainly been generous, and kind. For having dismissed the mens’ aid in almost the same breath that she proposed to ‘guide’ them herself about her family’s land. Azraindil must be torn between her duty to accommodate her father’s guest, and her own want to keep a commitment she’d made to her friends, who were also, technically, her father’s guests as well. And Anardil did not have to try very hard to imagine such a duality of options. For all of the alluding to secret, girlish recreations had certainly been an invitation for the Squire to please leave them alone to embark in their feminine mystique. There was in fact nothing he could think of in this minute he should enjoy less than to pursue them into such a setting, as arranging outfits .. But neither could his conscience allow him to leave the two young women walk off, quite unprotected and oblivious besides about the danger. Yes they were on their home ground, but they had no idea who else was ..


Of course the squire could have solved the problem there and then by declaring loud and clearly just what Isys had shared with him, and what she must have by this point shared with Abrazimir as well. It went against his every fibre of being to not simply be honest. But he had his orders. He had committed to a promise too. And the others in the know already were no doubt hastening about some plan to tighten security even now. Subtly, for sure. As there had been no clear indication of it noticed yet. So Anardil did not wish to scare the teenage girls any more than he wanted to ruin Pele’s apparent vacation. Quite the predicament. Fortunately this was not the first time he had faced a difficult decision, and as past experiences went, this one was far less hazardous than others he had worked through. So it took a bit of time, but he found his resolution in the end. Hopefully before Pele took leave of them entirely and proved her own independent nature. For she seemed to be looking about ready to escape the nonsensity of any arrangements. And at this point he would scarcely have blamed her !

“Extremely kind. And helpful,” he agreed instead with Merry’s positive opinion on the young hostess. And then took it a step further still. “You could not ask for better hands to find yourself in, Captain,” he all but celebrated on the Ranger’s behalf. “We would happily deliver a message to your friends,” he then supposed, indicating his brother and himself to Azraindil. “So that they may be escorted over to join you three in your sister’s chamber, and have Pele here properly indulge in all of your group’s shared expertise about your sister’s gowns. Unless the three of you would rather all go find your friends together ? I do not know but perhaps they might have a more extensive selection where they are congregating ?” he supposed. If so, at least the girls would have a Ranger present as they skipped off, and even an uninformed Ranger was not a force to be underestimated.


Emeredir eyed his brother with as subtle a glance as he could, when wondering if that sibling was not mistaken. Had the heat fried the Squire’s thinking ? Azraindil had very clearly been suggesting that there was some handmaiden who might be able to help Pele, … not offering to personally forego her own errand to help out the Captain, .. right ? Merry glanced at the taller man, waiting for him to see the confusion. Or perhaps come to understand hiself, something that he must be missing ..

“That is only to say, that we two .,” Anardil once more indicated himself and his brother, “ would be heading in that same opposite direction from your father’s castle ourselves, in any case,” he made exceedingly clear. “In order to locate our own lodgings and ready with time before the feast.” If it would not have been rude to do so, the man would have crossed his arms, determinedly.


A slight nod of respect honoured the women present, before the squire righted his focus and gaze, just in time to observe two of the guards from Castle Azrubel, who had also been watching at the horse race. He waved toward them unashamedly, to present the very real risk that he might call them over now and suggest even greater numbers to escort the ladies to whichever of the safe places those ladies would prefer. Or maybe simply to escort his brother safely back to their family.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

Day 2, after the horse races

It seemed that the more they tried to excuse themselves and slip off to meet the other two girls, the more the others seemed intent on insisting they return to the castle and prepare for dinner. She would have pouted, but she did not want to make a poor impression in front of the others.

Upon Pele's comment that they didn't seem too eager to let the gentlemen do their duty, Linn offered a little smile. "Oh, certainly not." She assured her. "It's only that we have not seen each other in some time, and we had hardly any chance to spend, yesterday." She explained. As if she really cared about getting dust on her dress. Linn might have laughed, if it would not have seemed impolite.

Then she turned to smile at Merry, upon his comment. "Indeed, she is," She agreed with the younger boy, in regard to Azraindil being kind and helpful. But then she fell silent as Merry's brother spoke up, also agreeing, and proposed the idea that he could deliver a message to inform their friends that they had changed their plans. If that wasn't a subtle hint to abandon their plans and go to the castle, then Linn didn't know what was.

She glanced at Gaer, trying not to appear disappointed, although she was. It was becoming clear that the squire had no intention of letting them roam off on their own, and while she had no idea why, she could only guess that he felt the young ladies needed a proper chaperone. Too bad. If Togg hadn't gone away, she could have claimed that he would act as their protector/chaperone, and then they could have ditched him far more easily. But, as things stood, Squire Thavron was apparently even 'threatening' to call a couple of guards over to escort them around, if they refused his company! That was certainly the last thing they needed.

Though disappointed, she realized that the chances of them actually managing to slip off, now, were almost zero. Holding back a sigh, Linn briefly glanced at Gaer. Surely, she would recognize the fact that they would have to postpone their archery plans, et again. The only option she could see at this point, was to simply go along with it for now. And try again another day. At least they still had about a week and a half left, in which to manage their secretive shooting session. She offered a smile and curtsied to the squire. "Thank you very much, sir, we greatly appreciate your offer. We certainly wouldn't want to leave Lady Dina and Lady Meressel waiting for us, needlessly." But she left it for Gaer to actually decide whether she would actually accept the offer or try to stick with the plan anyway. But if Squire Thavron insisted on coming along with them, then they wouldn't be able to manage their plan anyway. However... they had a chance to walk with a ranger captain. And a lady one. One who had not long ago suggested that Linn might one day be able to race horses, despite her parents being opposed to it. New ideas were stirring in Linn's mind, now.

---

|
Tobedir | Merilda
Falconry tent, on the hunting grounds
Then at the 'Sea Wall'

He was surprised by the message from his friends, and he had to take a moment to think about what to do. Caeleb and Iuldir needed him? It wasn't often that Toby got a chance to be around his friends, and after their fun had been spoiled, earlier, he had fully expected them to be stuck indoors all the rest of the afternoon. He had been helping tend to his grandfather's birds, and also working with his kestrel a little. But, after hearing the girl's message, brought on behalf of Iuldir, Toby wasn't about to leave his friends waiting for him if he could help it. And so, after taking a moment to leave a quick note for his brother and grandfather to let them know he'd gone to join the other two for a while, Toby hastened off with the servant girl who had been so kind as to deliver this message to him.

Merilda was quiet as she led him toward the area the captain had called the 'sea wall', though she periodically glanced at the young man. She had a brother not too far off from his age, but she had not seen him, nor any of her family, in a long while. She missed them very much, and that thought was all that kept her from saying anything to warn this boy, as much as she wanted to. Swallowing down all the words that wandered to gush out of her mouth, Merilda stopped once she had reached the beach area where the cliff wall began. "He said you would find him that way." She informed him with reluctance that she tried to cover with a faint smile. "There's a cave or something, he said."

"Thanks, miss." He felt very concerned by that narrow pathway. It was one thing for Iuldir to be out in this type of area, but Caeleb? The vague request that they 'needed his help' was making him more and more concerned. Of course, he understood that if Caeleb was stuck or something, and Iuldir had not wanted any news of it to get back to his parents, he would definitely not be telling anyone what the situation actually was. Besides, he tried to calm his worries by remembering that although Iuldir was adventurous and a bit mischievous, he had enough sense to know that if his friend was in any real danger, it would be foolish to not seek help from an adult, rather than his similarly aged friend. So, whatever it was, it couldn't be life-and-death, surely. Still, he had better hurry. Starting onto the narrow ledge that led to the path, Toby glanced back when he heard the girl speak again, in a rather serious tone.

"Be careful," Merilda couldn't help but try to warn him at least a little. "There are.. plenty of unseen dangers in the water here." She told him, trying to hint just enough. She bit her lip, one gloved hand idly scratching the fingers of the other, through the glove, as she cast her nervous gaze meaningfully out toward the sea. There was no sign of anything remotely dangerous, however, except perhaps the waves.

Toby smiled reassuringly. "Thanks, I'll be careful." He told her. "But don't worry. I know how to swim, if I fall in or something. And I know now that there's any giant squids or things lurking around," He grinned as he recalled some of the silly tales that Trev used to tell him, which he had recently admitted had all been made up. Then, waving cheerily to the girl, he set off to find that cave she'd told him about.

Merilda clasped her hands together in front of her, sighing softly as she watched until he went around a bend in the cliff, and was no longer in view. Then she sat down on the sand and hugged her knees, waiting, as she had been instructed to do, and tried not to think too hard about any of this. She had a bad feeling about all of this, but there was very little she could do, without endangering her own family, or herself.. so, she sighed and put her head down on her knees and thought about other things instead, as well as she could.

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

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

This was not going as intended and Azraindil felt an urgency growing on her heart. Her friends were waiting! Sure, they might wait an extra couple of minutes without fuss but Azraindil held tardiness and timeliness as good virtues. Captain Alarion seemed to catch on and surmise correctly that the girls wished to be without an escort. ”I’ve gotten worse on my dresses, believe me.” Azraindil said with a coy smile, certainly not needing an escort or chaperone to help her step over root or puddle or anything.

Emeredir seemed very appreciative of Azraindil’s kindness in offering a dress to Captain Alarion, voicing as much to Dulinneth. Azraindil just glanced at the little Lordling and smiled coyly at his compliment. I heard you. Thank you. She wondered though if Emeredir…didn’t secretly want to come with them. To be around Linny. How adorable that might be. But while Azraindil might be inclined, the other girls might not equally appreciate a mannish presence in their little conspiracy.

But Squire Thavon was insistent. There was no way out of it. He could escort them to their friends – which was a big no-no. Or back to the castle, where Captain Alarion might better examine the proffered outfits with the skilled eye of a noblewoman like Azraindil. It was hard to refuse without sounding rude. Her and her friends were certainly not looking at dresses! Even though Azraindil had just lied about…outfit coordination. She was caught in a web. The Squire was too smart for his own good.

Would he…would he tattle on them, to the adults, if he found out the girls were engaging in illicit archery practice? Before the feast, after the feast? The girls would get in differing degree of trouble. If their parents wished that for them, they would have plotted it’s resolution themselves. It was not even about that. It was about doing it together as a group, having fun, enjoying themselves without the usual oversight of adult or chaperone. How could she explain it to these people? If they had been boys, Azraindil and Linny wouldn’t have to. It was unfair.

They were offering because they seemed to already be heading in that direction. Azraindil’s mind was working fast. She could feel Linny’s eyes upon her. They were sinking, and fast. Linny started to answer, just as a possible contingency clicked in Azraindil’s mind. She reached out to put her hand on Linny’s elbow – a friendly gesture – but more to indicate Azraindil had a ploy. There was no chance of getting away. They would just have to join the others…delayed. And late. But better late than never.

”No message necessary for our friends, my Lord.” Azraindil said, referencing Emeredir’s earlier offer of passing on the meaning for their delay to the other girls. ”We should go with Captain Alarion back to the estate. There might be some…snags to work out, in regards to getting her access to dresses.” She mused, giving Linny a pointed glance for a brief heartbeat or two. She had decided…it would be easier to give the Captain the slip than the two brothers here. ”The estate is westwards. You two are heading eastwards back over the water. But our rendezvous is northwards. You will be delayed if you escort us. A groomsman or footguard can take us later, isn’t that right, Linny?” Azraindil explained. Totally lying.

”You are way too kind to think of us though, Sir, my Lord.” Azraindil then concluded to the two brothers and gave them a curtsey, acting so formal as a way to bring a conclusion to this conversation. She stepped forward and patted Emeredir’s shoulder. ”I’ll remember it.” She said with a gleam in her sea-grey eyes, same as his. She was a little curious to see how Merry and Linny would get on. What would they even talk about? It would be cute. She would arrange it perhaps, at the feast.

”We will see you two at the feast then, okay?” She said and stepped back, turning to Captain Alarion who was going to be their…temporary chaperone, back to the estate grounds. But from there, once the Captain was settled with a handmaiden or two to help her with the elaborate dressage, the two girls could whisk away to meet their friends. Delayed and late, but hopefully enough time to still enjoy themselves.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen @Rillewen @Pele Alarion

Squire Anardil ‘Warder’ Thavron with the young Lord Emeredir Azrubêl.
Taking their leave of fine ladies. After the Horse race, on Day 2 of the Joust

As Azraindil conceded that she and her friend would escort Pele back to find some fitting 'feast' clothes for them all at Castle Dimaethor, the squire relaxed some. It was evident that this had put some dampner on girlish plans the young women had hoped for a bit of fun elsewhere, but Anardil was far less concerned with that and more determined that neither the young ladies, or the Captain, or in fact his own young brother should come to any harm.

The elder sibling nodded thus to the eventual agreement, privately considering that since the ladies did not wish him to deliver any message to their friends, the cited 'meet up' with such friends might have been a ruse in it’s entirety. Not for a moment did he entertain the notion that the young ladies still meant to find their co-conspirators, after agreeing that they would not. As far as he was concerned, the deed had been managed. Potential crisis averted. All he had to do was keep for anyone from wandering off alone until the security could be effectively stepped up, with an absolute secrecy so that the event was the very least impacted by .. unforeseen arrivals.


“Our destination is in fact Northwards, to the generous pavilion provided by such kindly hosts,” he did correct Azraindil though. For no, House Azrubel would not be retiring across the river to their own halls this night. Not with .. well ..goings on that were going on, over there right now. ”If you should have need to locate me for any means of assistance I can provide,” he added, with a flick of his grey eyes toward the Captain. “Else I am sure as you rightly suppose, that we shall find each other at dinner.”

Why the ladies might have need of his brother .. to manage any sort of dressing up for dinner, Merry did not understand. A lot of the conversation was of course going on above his head, both metaphorically and literally speaking.


“I shall look for you there,” the small lord put in, regardless, with a slow but then sure smile for each of the women. “We may speak more about horse racing,” he imagined. “If you would like,” he remembered slightly belatedly to mention.

“Or perhaps some other, diverting subject,” Anardil suggested, rather quickly, The thought of his daughter’s own recent escapade with horses still raw in his memory. “If you should happen to see Lord Abrazimir before I,” the squire put to Pele, “please do pass on my hopes that he is well. After today’s rather .. stirring events.”


It was as much as he could manage to impart to the Ranger, in such hearing. The two brothers then offered up a bow each, In respect to the ladies and officer, before leaving them to do as they had proposed. It was something of a reluctant departure from them both though, for entirely different reasons. And no sooner had they made some small distance but Anardil had gathered with the two Guards of his house that he had recognised. To make with hushed enquiries if they had heard or seen anything unusual. To which the two guards, who had been contentedly enjoying the horse race until then, were pleased to say they’d noted nothing out of the ordinary.

The Squire himself was less pleased when the guards told him that they’d seen Lady Ilisys crossing back to the East bank with Lord Abrazimir … but at least that meant the lady had not been headed that way alone. “Come, let us get you back to the pavilion. Mother will be wondering what has happened to you,” Anardil bade Emeredir, almost overly jovial in trying to keep up appearances. The young lord was not properly convinced, or so jovial in fact. And his small face glanced from the departing ladies, and back in a quiet disappointment toward his keeper. For Azraindil and Dulinneth were not the only young people whose plans for fun his brother had so recently ruined. Had Merry himself not just been forcibly hastened from playing by the falcons with his own new friends ? All for the sake of ‘readying for dinner’ ? A most unsatisfying excuse, in his young mind. A most reasonable inconvenience though, in his brother’s. But would all of these efforts make a difference to the evening as it would unfold ? Probably not at all.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Second day - Archery Field to Himhathol Camp

The peace of the familiar repetitive task that blended focus, strength, a steady hand, and measured breath in sending arrows downrange eventually settled her mind and heart enough to drive away the concerns of the day. Her groups of arrows had tightened sufficiently so that she chose different areas of the target to shoot at so as not to damage her arrows with nicks and or lost fletching from arrows nested too closely as they landed. It also helped practice her focus on sending her arrows exactly where she wanted them to go rather than habitually using the same sight picture. To an outside observer it might look like she wasn’t as capable because they weren’t all clustered in the center every time, but she was satisfied with the results.

Stripping off her gloves and tucking them through her belt, Ziran retrieved her arrows for the last time and then gave a wave to the marshal as she stepped away from the line and left the range with her bow slung over her shoulder. It had been a couple hours well spent, and despite it being tempting to stay until her arms shook, it was best for her practice and mental space to stop before her form suffered from weariness that would lead to frustration. Besides which, there was the matter of the evening meal that she likely had to dress up for, even if she preferred staying in her present attire. It was pleasant to receive a little less notice on her return walk to their camp, as few recognized her.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

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

"Fine, fine! I will not avoid any expected feasts," Pele laughed as she raised her arms in surrender to the majority opinion. While she could think of several other ways to spend the evening that would be more relaxing, there were still some obligations and expectations she had to fulfil, and it seemed there was no way around it.

She observed as the parties finally came to some agreement on who would be going where, as she did not have any demands on having anyone join her, though Anardil seemed relentless in making sure they were rather herded together. Knowing that he was quite devoted to traditions, Pele wondered whether it was simply him trying to make sure everything was done proper or if she should read some warning hidden between the lines. Finally she decided to be a bit more watchful, just in case.

"All right," she told the two brothers. "We might talk at the feast of interesting things," she told the younger one, and then added for the older: "And will keep the location in mind if needed, and will deliver your message of hope if I do see Lord Abrazimir."

She then turned to the two girls. "Shall we then, if go we must?" she offered, with a lopsided grin.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

Day 2, after the horse races

The longer the talk went on, the more it seemed unlikely that they were going to get to go off and do the things they had planned on doing. Linn managed not to sigh or look terribly disappointed, nor let her shoulders slump in resignation. She offered a polite curtsy to Emeredir and smiled in response to him saying he would look for them at dinner. "I would be pleased to talk about horse racing with you, or simply about horses in general." She replied with a polite smile. She was wondering, however, how much of that topic she ought to discuss with him. "Or any sort of animals, really. Perhaps we may speak more about painting and art, as well." She added, once his brother had suggested they find another topic besides horse racing. That was a slightly safer topic, less likely to end in anyone discovering that she had actually ridden in the race, under a false guise.

She gave another curtsy in parting to Emeredir and his brother, then. "Farewell then, until the feast this evening." She said in farewell, and then the ladies were setting off toward the castle to decide upon their outfits for this evening. Linn thought perhaps it would be good if she were to check in on her mother, too, and find out whether she was feeling any better. That shouldn't take long, and then if Gaer had any sort of plots going on, they could still go and do their own thing, perhaps.

"Captain Alarion, you must have a great many skills, as a ranger." She glanced curiously at the woman as they walked. "Do you intend to enter any of the other competitions?" She asked curiously. "There is an archery tournament happening tomorrow, I believe, and I think there are to be some other sort of contests as well on other days.. melee and such, right?" She glanced at Gaer to verify that. "What sort of weapons do you use? Or, do rangers have to learn to use every sort of weapon?" She asked, unsure how that all worked.

---

Merilda
At the seashore near the "Sea Wall",
Lond Col, Dimaethor side

Sniffling, Merilda was unable to shake the feeling that she'd just helped accomplish something very bad, that should never have been accomplished. But she had very little choice, right? She looked around nervously. She had been told to wait, but she didn't know for how long she would have to wait. And what would happen to her if, and when, someone did come for her? Was she going to get into trouble from the Lord of the estate? Would all the blame for this bad stuff be dumped onto her? She bit her lip and thought about that. After a moment, she began to feel a bit panicked, and started to get up.

It was as she was brushing the sand off of her dress that her hand felt the paper in her pocket. She paused, her itchy forehead creasing a little in confusion as she drew it out, then remembered what it was. Ah, right! Another letter, which she'd nearly forgotten about. A letter, which Lord Ansellidus had instructed her to give to the ship captain when she saw him again. Merilda stared at it, then glanced around. What should she do? She hesitated, then sat down again. The panic had calmed a bit inside of her chest, and she turned the envelope over curiously, looking at it from all angles. Then she looked up and scanned the horizon. So far, all was quiet. No one had come for her. She was growing bored, and so, against her fears... she did the unthinkable.

She opened the letter.

The handwriting was nowhere near as neat as Lady Alyssa's, nor was it the same as the writing she had seen from Sir Aderic. It was... a version of Lord Ansellidus', although messier. He could barely write with his arms injured as they were, she recalled. In fact, she was a little surprised that he would bothered to write a note, since it clearly pained him to do so. He must have considered this very important.

A wave of guilt washed over her, and she nearly folded up the letter and put it away. But then, one word stuck out from the rest, and stayed her. Merilda frowned, focusing her untrained eyes onto the letters. Aderic. What about Aderic? Merilda hesitated, then spread the paper out onto her lap, absently rubbing her fingers to try and alleviate the burning itch from those horrible blisters.

She found it difficult to read the letter, but she struggled through it, slowly sounding out what she could, and skimming over the bigger, or less legible words, which she could not make out.

"Uur-ghent," She read the front slowly, before realizing she needed the other sound for 'G'. "Ohh, 'Urgent'," She shook her head and flipped to the inside, mumbling the words under her breath as she tried to read it without her teacher to help her sound the words out. Eventually, despite having to skip a few bits and pieces, the gist of the letter began to take shape. Merilda's eyes widened as her mouth formed an O, staring at the writing in shock. He was sending a letter to steward back at the castle, ordering Sir Aderic to be given the same injuries as himself!? That just... that just wasn't right! She looked up from the paper, the sense of panic returning. She couldn't let this happen. He didn't deserve to have his arms injured, just because his brother had gotten hurt. She had to do something... but what?

Merilda swallowed nervously, thinking fast. They couldn't follow his orders if they never got the orders, right? Sure, they'd probably get into serious trouble when he came to check if they'd done it, but at least maybe that would spare Ric from some pain. It didn't occur to her that, if he went to the castle and found out that his orders were not carried out, that he would probably have it done at that time instead. And that, by preventing the other servants from following this order, she could be causing them to suffer as well. She just couldn't bear to let Ric get hurt for such a ridiculous reason.

Having reached a decision, the maid then began tearing the paper into little pieces, without properly thinking of what sort of consequences this could cause for herself and others. Once the letter was reduced to a pile of scraps in her lap, Merilda paused and looked around. She couldn't think of any way to hide the pieces of paper, nor could she think of a way to destroy them further. But she couldn't be found with these, or everyone would know what she'd done. The fact was, sitting here on the beach, she had no good options for destroying the papers. So, she could hide them, nor could she take them somewhere that she could destroy them completely.

Even as she was contemplating her options, she heard someone approaching. Hastily, she shoved the scraps of paper into one of her gloves, which she had taken off while sitting here. Looking up, she saw one of the pirates approaching her with a little smirk.

"Well, you did your job well, girl." He declared. "I was told you'd be waiting." he added, motioning for her to come over to him.

Merilda hesitated, looking around, then looked back at him. "I... I'm supposed to be going to see Lady Alyssa now," She explained, nervous.

"Right, yeah. That's where I'm supposed to take you."

Merilda frowned, unsure about this. "Where is she?" She asked hopefully, getting up slowly.

"You'll find that out soon enough, if you come with me. Captain Dev is waiting, now come on."

Merilda hesitated further, not very eager to go with this man, but also unsure if she even had much choice.

Before she could make up her mind, the man grabbed her arm. "Come on, girl. We ain't got all day. We gotta get going, quick."

"Ow." She complained, frowning as his rough grip hurt her arm, but she was too afraid to resist as he pulled her along after him, moving swiftly along the narrow ledge of the cliffs where she had so recently sent that cheery boy. Where he was now, she didn't know. She bit her lip, feeling bad about that as she looked down to try and watch where she stepped. Carefully, she turned her glove so that she held it by the fingers, and allowed the contents to come fluttering out of the glove and into the ocean as she walked along the cliff, reluctantly being pulled toward whatever doom awaited her on the pirate ship...

[Lantaelen]

@ercassie @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

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

The brothers seemed finally placated. By the Valar, they were even more protective than Gaer’s own brother! It must be something in the water. After all, Gaer felt the same about Linny. They were all a very tight-knit community here. Everyone looking out for everyone. And Gaer appreciated Anardil’s concerns but it was just that…they had their own schemes going on. Just not today with their gallantry, please!

Merry beckoned a kind, parting message and promise to Linny and Pele about talking about horse racing. The perfect topic for the little lord and little lady! And Gaer smiled so knowingly, struggling not to squeal at the flowers blossoming before her. But then Anardil interrupted with the notion of discussing some other subject and Gaer nearly shot him a look that would melt the embroidery off his body. Shush, you! ”Farewell, Sir, my Lord.” She curtsied again for the pair. ”We have much to talk about!” She added as a promising hint in the Sindarin tongue, for Merry.

The brothers went off, leaving the girls with the Captain, who surrendered with a smile to their attentions and escort. Gaer moved to walk on one side of Pele, Linny on the other, heading back towards the estate, the towering Keep like a grey block on the horizon, a short distance away. It was all clear blue skies in every direction. What auspicious weather! Nothing could go wrong.

As they walked, Gaer peered up at Pele with an adoring look in her eyes. Here was a formidable woman, a Captain of soldiers, a healer, a horse rider, so stern and pretty at the same time. How could Gaer not want to emulate a woman like this? Her parents would have something to say about that. Linny must have thought the same, as she inquired about those skills. Gaer nodded on the other side of Pele.

”Tomorrow is the last day of the joust. That should be in the morning, with run off time into the afternoon if Lord Himhathol and my brother want to show off.” She rolled her eyes playfully. ”But in the early evening there’ll be the archery tournament. Same place as the joust. There’s this whole scoring rubric that my father and his planners decided. Multiple targets, at varying paces, with different scores and such. Each competitor will have three shots per round, to score the highest.” Gaer explained, though the Herald would probably go over the rules in full before the contest.

”Then there shall be a day intermission, so those from the joust can rest and mend their wounds, if they have any. After that day, there’ll be the melee tournament. Which my father called last man standing. Or last woman, we can hope.” She winked at Pele and Linny. ”But basically all the competitors will be on the sands at the same time and…they fight.” Gaer said, explaining how it was meant to simulate how an actual battle would go, all fighters crowded together, hacking and slashing and hammering and striking.

”There’ll be all sorts of weapons but they are purposefully blunted or kept harmless, so as to not cause serious injury. Everyone will have armour,” she repeated the last of the detail she had heard and learned during the planning process. She felt like a good hostess, remembering all this information, and able to repeat it. Usefully, she hoped.

They reached the estate grounds and Gaer escorted Pele not to her own chambers that she had been specially accorded to, but to Gaer’s sister’s room. Zorzimril’s room. Her sister hadn’t lived here in years so there was no harm in sneaking in. ”There are some left over dresses here…any particular colour scheme you like, Captain?” Gaer inquired as she threw open the walk-in closet, the second biggest in the estate, after her parent’s. There was plenty of rich and opulent outfits left here, that would fit Pele.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

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

It seemed that the situation was resolved and the two brother set off finally without attaching a whole regiment of guards to protect the ladies. Amusement remained in Pele's eyes as she now walked and listened to Linn and Gaer both besetting her with questions and offers of activities.

"Now, that is a lot of questions, Miss Dulinneth, but let me see if I can provide some satisfactory answers," she said lightly, while she cast an observant look around just in case. "It is good for a ranger to have several skills available, but it is even more important to know how to be a team player. You know... the more the merrier, but in a more serious meaning. Protecting each other, working off of each other strengths, covering each other's weaknesses." She paused thoughtfully, and then continued: "But yes, each ranger usually chooses a preferred weapon and then one or two additional to work on, but should have enough wits to use whatever is at hand if need be. I prefer a longsword, but also have a recurve bow, and sometimes practice with other weapons. But as I said, even if you have superb skills with all imaginable weapons those skills might still come up short if you don't have trusty people at your side."

Having finished her short lecture, Pele paused and then laughed softly. "Are you two trying to enroll me in all possible armed competitions here? I might try a hand at archery, but not so sure about melee. Blunted weapons and armour might not protect against all bruises, and I'm supposed to be on vacation here, not on a mission to take on all the glory-seeking knights and such. But will see... There's a bit of time," she glanced at each of the girls in turn with a slightly masked mischievous grin. "Don't you go signing up my name in competitions secretly though, yes?"

Once back into the castle, the Captain found herself facing a challenge which she was not that well trained for. The display of colourful and oh-so-fancy dresses, so many that she thought she had not seen such a collection even at any seamstress' workshop in Minas Tirith caused her to stand there in silence for a while. "Right," she finally said, when Gaer asked about the colour scheme. "I figure something dark blue in combination with silvery would do just well. Something elegant, but not too flashy or elaborate..."

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn @ercassie @Karis Zimraphel @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

The Sun was setting, and through alerting horn calls and messengers in heraldry going about the crowds and groups, it was announced that all should gather and make ready for the daily feast being held by the hosts.

It was no trouble to miss or be tardy to this event. There was a banquet of some degree to be hosted every evening, though only the first day and the final day would be the mandatory functions, being the starting and ending, to which all the stops would be pulled to make the affair most grandiose and opulent. Today was just a routine process. The Dimaethors, conscious about class distinctions, were hosting two banquets. In the Keep, the hall was arranged to seat the various nobles and participants and their families. In the courtyard, tables were set up to accommodate the lower classes. But once an hour or two had passed, and the liquor flowed freely, filters between the two groups would dissipate and all could mingle as they pleased.

The hall was well lit, the hearth ablaze and well fed, with chandeliers of many thick candles burning above it all. Tapestries of all the major participants, whether still participating or eliminated, adorned the walls in honour and pomp. The best dinnerware was arranged on the three rows of table, stretching from the dais to the floor, though the central row was split in the middle, to allow a dance floor to develop later in the night. A band was arranged on an upper floor terrace, though they were still preparing and making ready. Servants in heraldry stood to one side, both the local help and hired help arranged for this occasion.

To the entrance of the hall stood the Lord and Lady, to individually greet each noble guest and invitees as they arrived. But both were secretly agitated…for both their children were conspicuously absent. Abrazimir, perhaps he was hurt after his recent bout earlier that day, and needed rest, as the final day of the joust would be held tomorrow morning between the son and heir of House Dimaethor and the scion of House Himhathol, Lord Macardil. And the other, Azraindil, nowhere to be seen, perhaps still off in her own world with her fellow lady-friends and other young girls.

”Hail and well met!” Lord Zâinabên greeted each in turn. Men received hearty handshakes, the women had their hands taken and kissed.

”Welcome, please have a seat.” Lady Orelnith would beckon each in turn after they were greeted by her husband, performing a slight curtsey for each guest or group of guests. And further on, the children were supposed to stand, to be seen and not heard, as the custom went. And yet they couldn’t even be seen! A duo of servants were sent to look for each of them, to bring them hither, to stand and greet their guests as future Lords and Ladies of some great House should be seen to do.

But until then, Lord Zâinabên would manage things, and keep an account of who came and arrived on time, and who would be late, to later be weighed and judged in the invisible rubric of his mind in what constituted polite behavior and what did not. Just because the War was over did not mean their society could drop discipline and stern traditions of their forefathers to relax and get too comfortable!

---

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Azraindil was late. As always. As usual. One would think she would get better about it with age but clearly only the source of the issue grew with her supposed maturity, not the required solution. In her mind, it was justified, after the horse races, and delivering Captain Alarion to the Keep for some wardrobe adjustments, she had gone out again to meet with her friends, Linny and Dina, to get some much desired archery practice. The phantom sensation of the bowstring on her fingers still lingered as she got back, hurriedly changing her own outfit, wearing gloves, and making her way out to join her father and mother.

She felt some relief when she saw Abrazimir was not there either. Wait, the scion of their House and the brave Swan-Knight was late too? It paid off, as her father only gave her a scowl and a stern look, but no lecture or berating. Besides, guests were coming in, and one thing Lord Zâinabên would not do is showcase inner family squabbling in front of strangers.

Maybe Azraindil had bet on that as well. For now, she had a sense of immunity. Hopefully they’d forget by the end of the night.

Her role was to stand by, a few paces removed from her parents, and look nice. Be seen, not heard. It felt strange though, to be the only one here, in the absence of her older sister and older brother, who were usually the dependable rocks in these scenarios, always there to guide or assure Azraindil. She was here by herself at present. No siblings. No friends. Just a pretty dress, braided hair, and a shawl over her head, set in place with a circlet. The first few faces she vaguely recognized. Neighbouring families from fiefs closest to House Dimaethor. She performed a curtsey after her parents greeted each one, even if she was not gazed at or acknowledged verbally or nonverbally. When was there going to be a familiar face?

One or two hours of greetings, then they could take their seats and get to the next stage of the banquet, the toasts and speeches and all. Then, the food! And entertainment, and dancing, and mingling. She had a lot of confidence about this one…

[Ercassie]

Lord Emeredir Azrubêl and his mother, the Lady Sirdis
Arriving at the Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities.
End of Day 2 of the Joust

In the hour where a vast array of torches took up their reign, a veritable tapestry of stars that flanked the way, the summons echoed through the grounds for the commencement of the eve’s feast. And so they came, to commit to their host’s latest grand spectacle. At the head of the small procession from one notable pavilion was the young Lord Emeredir, taking up his place of significance before all those who followed him, in every understanding of the word. His mother, Lady Sirdis alone hovered at his side, due to the Nobleman’s tender age. Though she allowed for Merry himself to speak for their arrival in greeting their hosts. It was not only expected, but it was also good practice.

Bedecked in the telltale colours of their house, Merry had been readied for this occasion with rather more frills than thrills, than he had readied to observe the earlier contests. Social interactions would now seize the main stage of intrigue, and so the shameless gold and cerulean blue must stand up to the scrutiny. For his part, the young lord was hopeful that he might manage more meetings with the group of friends he had recently made, although he had been sorry to observe that Tobedir stood not among their party, and the charismatic Swan Knight, Sir Abrazimir was neither stood awaiting them.


Still Merry managed to bob before the Lord and Lady Dimaethor, in a much rehearsed bow which did his instructors proud, “Meneg suilaid, hir nin, hiril nin,” he offered them greetings in the eldar speech he had been reminded that they favour, before he found a smile just as easily as he found the Lady Azraindil, playing her own part in all the pomp. “Fair evening, cousin,” he balanced in a second bow on her behalf. “I am keen to find you again in conversation tonight,” he offered to her, before regaling her parents with due praise for their offspring. “The Lady Azraindil has been so kind and accommodating. Among our talk of art and sports, she generously extended an invitation for me to observe her address at the archery contest tomorrow.”

At this news, the young Lord’s mother raised grey eyes and considered her son’s rather artful means of mentioning the subject now, rather than to have asked her in more private conversation. His decision would equally confirm their host’s approval and grant his own parent no polite way to later refuse him, if it had been so openly acknowledged with their hosts.


“Lord Zâinabên, Lady Orelnith” Sirdis acknowledged the affluent couple, for her own sake, her voice growing more in power and resolve with every word. Though she could not offer an opinion on the matter her son had raised, even as she realised that Eressild would not have been so restrained .. “How fine you do look, this eve. And what a splendid hall,” she felt to compliments, clearly cowed as any former governess and companion might stand, as she seeks to seem comfortable within scenes of great opulence. The perfect choice of partner for an equally bookish Lord Edhelmir, Sirdis recognised nonetheless that she was not the equal of these folk, in character at least. And all of the outrage she had undergone in cloistered quarters about how her sister in law had dared to all but arrange her own young son’s future, squiring for the gallant Dimaethor heir .. none of those words now found the strength to take form. Endeavouring to hold herself together, Sirdis kept up a pleasant countenance and held her tongue from making any demands, almost as though she could sense Eressild’s watchful eye from further in their party.

---

An unveiled Lady Gaelanna of House Estennin, with her husband, the Esquire Anardil Thavron
and their daughter, Airelen. Arriving (as above)

A lady born and raised, still Gael struggled to raise brown eyes and meet those of her prestigious neighbours. The matter of their daughter’s dicing with calamity during the joust aside, the lady of Dol Amroth had never intended to attend this grand event, standing far more settled in the safety of their home. Where the few guards and family members she interacted with, were grown familiar with her, and how she .. looked now. The trace of stars which her former captor had indulged in inking across her fair face could not be utterly quelled, though she had paled the design with powder and cosmetics as much as would not be ‘too much’. The stain was still evident, and the gloves that hid the missing smallest finger on her right hand would be revealed once they were forced to remove gloves for the meal. But it was not currently safe across the river, and it was known to be as rude to wear a veil to a dinner as it was to refuse a host’s invitation to feast in his halls. Her hands were figuratively tied, and the understood need to make some recompense for the dangerous episode earlier that day had denied the family any chance of refusing attendance. She had duly outdone herself with all other elements of dress, as befitting her background rather more than her current standing. A beauty beaten but still standing, every fibre of her being was a quiver, even when she finally rose her chin high enough to properly face any scrutiny.

The execution of a perfect curtsey called for releasing her grasp upon Airelen’s hand, albeit briefly. Which caused for Gael’s exposed nerves to be further still strained, until she could resume her handle of support. Not only because her daughter had managed to echo the mother’s gesture perfectly. Even the small carved wood horse that hung from her wrist by a fine blue ribbon did not endanger the performance. “I brought apples !” the little girl proudly declared, and held the toy up to be witnessed.


“We are very grateful for your kind consideration,” Gael spoke, if only in attempt to take from her daughter’s less formal ‘greeting’. It was usual practice for the man to speak on behalf of his wife and child, but in this case Anardil had married above his own station and it was Gaelanna alone, who stood a ‘lady’ in lieu of her late father’s great standing in the city. Her husband however, was still a veteran not only of the war where he’d fought with countless men at arms who accompanied the Swan Knights, but also had recovered his now spouse out of enemy clutches, in tandem efforts with Abrazimir himself.

‘Warder’ had spent so much time in the preparation for this event reassuring Gael and their joint efforts engaged in keeping Airelen at hand and neat, that he had not known much time to grow nervous for his own sake. The rather more concerning matter he had been entrusted with was only returned to mind, when he noted that the Swan Knight was not returned yet, from his sojourn across the river. Still the Squire managed to hold his own, ever as rigidly proper as he could be counted on.

“The House of Dimaethor is ever a high standard all must aspire to,” he managed to add his own courteous offering, to escort his lady wife’s. One of the man’s hands flickered occasionally restless at his side, for he had been advised against wearing his sword this eve, for fear of insulting the assumption that their host’s defences were adequate else. His other hand was a reflection of his wife’s duty, holding their small child firmly in check from running off to explore. This was his first time attending the more Noble tier of a dining experience and although both he and Gael had experienced a yearning to diminish into the obscurity of feasting in the courtyard, to fail to be seen and answerable for today's 'excitement' had forced their collective hands to indulge in their rather unconventional standing. At least the couple were each well versed in proper behaviours, and had vowed already to try and endow such on their daughter, if only for the duration of the night. They could always leave early, citing a need for childish bedtimes, if things got too fraught.

---

@Rillewen

The Lady Eressild Azrubêl, last but by no means least.
Ushering in the Thormaetha guests, as representatives of the Eastern Bank
Arriving as above (though noticeably without her daughter Ilisys}.

It had been much debated in the cloisters of their provided pavilion, how to best present for the evening, and Eressild of course had held the final say. So anyone who knew her might be surprised to find her at the tail end of their procession to arrive at the Dimaethor keep. Still she made her approach as some grand event, merely preluded by those who had presented before her. And from her vantage point, had been able to whisper some offers of advice and reminders up through their short column, which known of those the words were directed toward dared turn their heads to protest.

So finally arriving, the former regent but still most formidable lady did not demonstrate the slightest deficit in poise or power. Despite her House living up to it’s rather eccentric reputation. Her every most subtle movement indicated a credence of confidence that were undeniable. The absence of her late and much beloved Araldur was always felt on such occasions, but on this particular, Eressild was lacking the company of their daughter, Ilisys as well. Again ! Herding cats had been the mother’s earlier account of organising such an ensemble, but organise she did, regardless, and had ready the promised guests of recent renown to try and disguise the shortfall.


“Lord Zâinabên, Lady Orelnith” Eressild made the previous displays of flawless curtsey seem as though half hearted, in comparison to her showcase. ”May I take this opportunity to extend my great thanks toward you both, in loaning us Lord Abrazimir, to try and coax our Elvish guest across the river to experience your gracious feats in entertaining.” A brief moment elapsed in which jaws were invited to fall, at their leisure.

And then a gesture of quite another kind. “And may I present Trevadir Thormaetha, of this afternoon’s heroics. And his grandfather, Dravedir,” the indomitable lady indicated the two men who had been ushered unto this latest great event with no objections allowed. “Who has been regaling your guests with equally notable demonstrations, of falconry. Come at your invitation, to be recognised for their remarkable accomplishments.”

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Lantaelen

|
Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Arriving at the Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities, as personal guests of the Azrubel family
End of Day 2 of the Joust

This was most definitely not how Trev had expected to end the day, when he woke up this morning. Sure, he'd figured that he would eat at the banquet, but not this banquet. The other one. The one for people of his lower status. Instead, here he was, right here with Lady Eressild Azrubel, attending the banquet reserved for nobility! He wasn't even sure whether he'd be able to eat anything, for his stomach seemed intent on trying to perform acrobatics of some sort.

He had cleaned up and dressed up in the best clothes he could come up with on such short notice, and he felt duly uncomfortable in these clothes. Trev owned barely anything, and he had brought very little with him since him taking this trip had been quite an abrupt decision. His grandfather had helped him get something suitable to wear tonight, fortunately. Grandfather, of course, wore his best set of clothes which he kept for special occasions.

Feeling a little nudge from his grandfather once Lady Azrubel had introduced them, Trev stepped slightly forward and bowed to the hosts of the event, feeling his face get a bit warmer at the reference to 'this afternoon's heroics'. "My lord, well met. And thank you.. for allowing me here." He greeted the host politely while returning the handshake, though he felt very awkward being here. Very out of place. "Thank you, my lady," He replied to the hostess' welcome, bowing once again. Any other words fled out of his mind after that. And where was his brother? Trev was feeling rather annoyed at Toby. He should have been back by now. Where was he? One would have thought that the kid would have developed a sense of responsibility by now, at his age. Not that Trev could say much for his own 'sense of responsibility' at age fourteen, come to think of it. Nor even at fifteen, obviously. Since that was when he'd run away from home in the most stupid way possible...

Pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind for now, Trev waited as his grandfather offered a similar greeting to Lord and Lady Dimaethor, bowing as well. "We are extremely grateful for the opportunity to showcase our bird's skills at this wonderful event. Thank you for having us, here." He added while shaking the lord's hand with a smile. "I certainly hope my birds have provided your guests with sufficient enjoyment, my lord." To Lady Dimaethor, he praised the beauty of the hall and the decorations adorning it. But the falconer kept his interactions brief, as per Lady Azrubel's advice.

After having greeted the lord and lady, Trev was met with a curtsy from their daughter. He was very unsure what to do here, concerning the lady Azraindil, who had arrived to take her place at her parent's side, only moments before the Azrubel and Thormaetha family had arrived. He bowed, as that was simple enough to manage. But then what? He had been warned to leave her alone... not only by that other guy, but Macardil had also suggested something of the sort. The former, he was inclined to ignore. But the former... well, he would try to follow his friend's advice. But not to the extent of being rude. "Lady Azraindil." He greeted her, and then he was unsure what else to say. Fortunately, it seemed that it was time to move out of the doorway and take their seats, to allow others to enter the hall.

As guests who had been invited to dine with the Azrubel family, Trevadir and Dravedir followed their lead, and allowed themselves to be placed wherever Dravedir's employer decreed that they should sit. Since it seemed they were the first to arrive, the entire group had their choice of seating, apparently, so at least they could be assured there would be enough room at the table for all of them.

Dravedir had, of course, apologized for the absence of his younger grandson, offering the excuse that the youngster wished to spend the afternoon and evening with his friends, whom he so rarely got to see. Given the fact that Eressild's own daughter was equally absent, the falconer hoped the lady would not find cause to judge them too harshly for Tobedir's failure to join his family for this invitation. The lad would hear about that later, of course... but for now, his grandfather was willing to let him enjoy the evening with his friends. Since there seemed to be little he could do about it, anyway.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Getting dressed in fancy clothes for some official function or other was not at the top of things Pele liked; however, it did no good to complain or be upset about it. She left for the banquet decked out in an elegant yet sufficiently comfortable dark blue dress with a silver belt and ornaments along the neckline, hem and sleeves, her hair decorated with an intricate pin of silver to match the dress. For a while she debated if she should carry a concealed small knife with her but eventually decided against it thinking that she could tackle any possible threat even without being always armed - even though she kept in mind Warder's seeming warning of possible dangers.

She made sure not to be late for she had gotten an impression that there was no such concept as 'fashionably late' here.

“Lord Zâinabên," she greeted the hosts who awaited the guests, "Lady Orelnith. It is a high honour to attend this event which will be magnificent.”

Unsure of what other niceties and praises she was expected to give, Pele was glad for the opportunity to escape lingering at the entrance and move on to occupy some spot or other at one of the tables.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

Talven family
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

They were not the first to arrive, alas, but at least they were still among the top three groups to make their way into the grand hall for the banquet. All wore smiles as they approached and greeted their nearest neighbors, and closest friends. Mother and daughter wore matching dresses of deep green, trimmed in maroon, with tiny, embroidered flowers upon the bodice and hem, in maroon and cream. Father and son wore similar colors, though without the flower embroidery.

The healer had decreed that Torthon had sustained a mild concussion from the tournament earlier, but he was fine now. The most difficult part about it, was his wife's constant fussing and fretting over him. Of course, most people who knew her situation would hardly blame her for worrying, but he found it annoying. Yet, he did his best to pretend he did not mind. He was smiling as he greeted Lord Dimaethor with a handshake, and compliments about the prepared feast.

His son waited beside him with a polite smile as he waited to shake hands with the lord, who would one day be his father-in-law. Togg wanted to go over and greet Azrain, but he felt it best to wait until he had properly greeted her parents, first.

Meanwhile, after a pleasant greeting to Lord Dimaethor, Duvaineth happily came to greet Orelnith with a hug, going on about how beautiful the hall looked, and how beautiful Orelnith's dress was. She was smiling and seemed to be feeling better than she had been earlier.

Linn offered a polite curtsy to both lord and lady Dimaethor, along with a polite greeting in Sindarin, before skipping over to where Gaer waited. "It's been so long!" She joked, grinning as she came over to her friend, giggling softly. Of course, it had hardly been an hour or less since they had parted from their secret adventure, but no one had to know that. "How's your hand?" She whispered softly, afterward, as she leaned in closer to avoid being overheard. Her own fingers still felt the little sting of the bowstring, and she decided that next time, she'd probably better make sure she had some sort of gloves to protect her fingertips.

[Lantaelen]

@Ercassie @Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

The first arrivals, a prestigious and noble group, led by little Lord Emeredir Azrubêl and his mother, Lady Sirdis. Though vastly different in age, Emeredir and Zâinabên were equal colleagues as high lords and joint rulers of Lond Côl. Both the Lord and Lady of House Dimaethor smiled kindly as the young Lord bowed and spoke fluently in the high tongue of the elves, before offering a greeting to Azraindil a little further on. ”Well met, nephew. You are always most welcome. We appreciate with all our hearts your kind compliments.” Zâinabên replied graciously, calling the nephew of his dear friend Araldur his own nephew.

Lady Sirdis, the young Lord’s mother, gave her greetings after. ”Many thanks,” Orelnith replied to her, touching her hand to her chest and heart in appreciation. ”We hope you’ll enjoy your evening with us.” The wife of the late Lord Edhelmir, she was as equal as the family she married into in the eyes of their hosts.

Next came the Thavron family, close companions of the Azrubêl’s and another long familiar sight and awareness to the Dimaethors. The presence of Lady Gaelanna was surprising, her tragedy being well known to all in Lond Côl, and it was a surprise to see her present. The marked stars on her face were…something to behold. But they were apart of her now and the Dimaethors felt it was ruder to avert their eyes than to acknowledge their existence and permanence. It was what it was. Let’s move on to the future. She performed a curtsey, her daughter Airelen at her side, who enthusiastically proclaimed the attendance of her toy horse Apples as well.

Zâinabên gave a huff of amusement, before turning his eyes up to Gaelanna who thanked them for their invite. ”Always. Please, sit, be merry and feast to your heart’s content. And you, little one,” Zâinabên looked back to Airelen, ”be sure your noble steed eats their fair share as well.” He encouraged her. Children were such a precious thing. And the old Lord was only getting older.

Next came the Esquire, Anardil. ”Well met, Esquire Thavon, though I wonder when are we ever going to make a Knight out of you, hm?” Zâinabên mused with a critical eye at the young man, but Orelnith brushed her husband’s forearm, reminding him that this place was not the place for politics, as the appointments of Swan-Knights of Dol Amroth could often be. Save it for the table and the wine. ”You are all welcome.” The Dimaethor matron smiled at them all.

Finally, the other bookend arrived. Lady Eressild Azrubêl, widow of Araldur. Zâinabên and Orelnith bowed their heads low in greeting. Though, heads were quick to snap up when Eressild dropped that little tidbit of information. Elven…guest? Loaning their son? The Lord and Lady glanced at each other, unspoken surprise, astonishment, and a measure of understanding written in their features. They truly had no idea. When did the Azrubêl’s begin hosting such fair and noble guests such as an actual elf? Of those Dimaethors present, only Zâinabên had seen elves, though only from afar, at the coronation of King Elessar years ago. No longer myth, but real. And one was just over the river…

Eressild quickly moved on, gesturing to their special guests. ”Dravedir needs no introduction here. Your falconry has spun tales of skill and yarns of mysticism since when I was a boy.” Zâinabên praised the older man at first, before looking to the younger Trevadir most critically. He looked much better than a falconer’s boy, almost indistinguishable from a noble. Though the shadow of who his father was never left the distant horizon of memory and thought. He expressed his greetings and gratitude and Zâinabên replied by clapping his hand on the young boy’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

”The hero of the hour.” He pronounced solemnly in the common tongue. ”If the young Anardil should be a Knight, you should surely be a Squire, if you have the desire and vocation within you. Such bravery you demonstrated. You do your family name proud.” Zâinabên said with a nod, removing his hand. And perhaps might wash away the taint of what your father is.

”We shall toast to your name and deed, young man.” Orelnith curtsied as a gracious hostess to Trevadir. What a panic it had been, Airelen’s life at risk. How thoughtless and brave his response had been, running before a charging horse at great risk of injury or even death, to rescue her. By the Valar, just the memory caused her heart to speed. Every mother could empathize with that and her heart went out to Gaelanna the most. May the Valar spare her any more anxieties.

Dravedir spoke next, expressing his gratitude in turn, for the invite and the exposure of his falconry to a wider audience. ”Business has been good, yes?” Zâinabên grinned at him. ”They have captured the minds and imaginations of many, I am told. The enjoyment is beyond sufficient.” He nodded to the Thormaethas, before looking to all members of this first prestigious party, the Thormaethas, Thavrons and Azrubêls.

He spoke in Westron again, for the understanding of all. ”You are all very welcome.” He reiterated again. ”All of you are invited to sit with us upon the dais, adults and children alike. But of course, we are well known and informal with one another, and host these functions often. Sit where you like.” Zâinabên informed them, beckoning to a pair of servants in Dimaethor livery to come forward, to lead these guests to their seating. The Azrubêls he expected to sit on the dais, and Trevadir too, for his heroic deed earlier that day. But he made the open offer of seating anywhere, to spare the Thormaethas and Thavrons the pressure of such forwardness, being beheld by the entire hall when the banquet would be in full swing, understanding their unfamiliarity with such things, or other such reasons, as in the case of Gaelanna.

And with that, they could move forward and be seated, the first to arrive, cups and plates at the ready for drink and appetizers. Behind many more were lining up and pouring in.

---

@Pele Alaron
The Captain of Gondor and Ranger chief was a most surprising sight when she stepped forth, transformed from soldier to lady in fair garments. Orelnith quirked an eyebrow, recognizing the clothes as belonging to their daughter. ”Captain Alarion” Zâinabên greeted her, him and his wife inclining their heads politely. ”They say you almost had the triumph of the horse race. Next time, eh?” He teased lightly, though who the victor, Traelion, was remained to be seen. The name was strange and unknown to the Dimaethors.

”That is a lovely outfit on you, Captain. It always marvels me how women of Gondor can both be deadly in armour and magnificent in the right dress.” Orelnith said, in a display of solidarity with those women who chose a less traditional path in life.

Zâinabên baulked and double glanced at his wife before composing himself quickly and extending his hand. ”Please, have a seat. I hope the comforts of my hall live up to the banquets and feasts you must enjoy in the White City.” He beckoned her to join the others.

---

@Rillewen
After the esteemed Azrubêls and the Captain of Gondor came another family of note and importance to the Dimaethors. Normally the men spoke first, with Lord Dimaethor just opening his mouth to address them in the usual fashion, but to Lady Orelnith this was too personal to be so formal. After all, their two families were to be…one family. And while not in the original, most desirable circumstance, a promise was a promise still. ”My dear Duvaineth, welcome, welcome!” Lady Orelnith embraced the other woman, superseding her husband, who just grinned lopsidedly and sighed.

”Yes, welcome, my Lord, my Lady. Children.” Lord Zâinabên greeted the Talvens, sweeping his eyes over each. He extended and shook the hand of Lord Torthon while the Ladies mingled, giving him a critical eye a moment.Zâinabên had heard the report of Torthon’s condition after his joust with Zâinabên’s son. It was remarkable the other man was standing. ”A valiant effort today upon the sands, gentlemen.” He complimented father and son.

”How lovely you all look. My Lord,” Orelnith addressed them all, performing a proper curtsey for Torthon, then letting her eyes roam over the children, darling Dulinneth and her future son-in-law, Toggornir. ”You are all welcome upon the dais. We shall be joined therein by the Azrubêls and their guests. Please, relax and enjoy yourselves and have a pleasant evening.” The hostess ushered them in, gesturing to nearby servants who would lead them up to their seats, though they were free to roam and mingle until it was time for the main course and various toasts.

---

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Hands folded before her, she had just completed a half hundred rotation of her thumbs around one another when the arrival of the first party occurred, a combination of the Azrubêls, the Thormaethas, and the Thavrons. She perked up, watching and listening intently, though she was not expected to talk or do much beyond giving a reinforcing curtsey and incline of her head to her parent’s statements, something done a thousand times before at such functions, routine to her body and mind as breathing was.

Though it was a surprise when Merry turned and addressed her as well. ”Very fair evening, cousin.” She replied with a smile, blushing a little as the generous Lord expressed how helpful and thoughtful she was in promoting his participation in various events. Her parents…ignored it entirely, though out of fairness there were many guests to greet and not all could be indulged in small talk. But between her and Merry, she gave him a most gracious nod for his kind words. ”We’ll talk later!” She whispered to him, eyes flickering at the dais where they would be seated together. And her friend Linny would be made to join them.

The Thravons were next, their greetings short and sweet, with Azraindil breaking protocol to give the little Airelen a most excited wave. She remembered when she used to be the baby between both families. Now there was Merry, and Airelen, and Linny too and everything. For once she looked forward to a night of revelry with her new friends, no longer having to be a shadowy tagalong with older siblings.

And speaking of older siblings, it was announced by Lady Azrubêl just where the wayward heir of Dimaethor was. Across the river…with an elven guest. An elf! There was an elf here and Abrazimir did not tell Azraindil? The betrayal lacerated her heart with icy stabs and she only just kept herself from scowling. How dare he. He had a lot to answer for…!

Then there was…the Thormaethas. The Bird-Trainer and Bird-Boy. He was a handsome little man and Azraindil watched this commoner boy of similar age to herself with some degree of marvel and novelty. As before, growing up her circle of companions were usually other nobles, none of whom had ever been her age until recently. There had been plenty of commoner boys and girls her age, but she never got to interact with them, and seeing them in the wild, so to speak, was unique and curious. Bird-Boy lived an entirely different upbringing from her.

When they were done being greeted by their parents, Azraindil performed her customary curtsey to acknowledge their arrival. They were not obligated or compelled to greet her…but Bird-Boy did, much to her surprise. It left her dumbfounded a moment but as she composed herself and raised her gloved hand to give a wave…he already moved on to enter the hall. Colour flooded her cheeks and she hoped her parents didn’t notice her break of protocol again. They didn’t.

---

@Pele Alarion
Captain Alarion arrived as well, after a few intervening guests. Her parents greeted the Captain and Azraindil grinned with some satisfaction at how well the assistance in finding the Captain a dress had gone. As with others, Azraindil could only perform a curtsey as Pele was ushered into the interior of the hall, her father’s attempt to prevent less-than-traditional-life-paths-for-women filtering into the young lady’s mind just barely falling short. See? One could be both a lady-in-waiting and a doer of deeds and labours, for the good of the Realm and society!

---

@Rillewen
She had resumed staring at the hem of the skirts of her dress at her feet when familiar voices snapped up the young Lady’s attentions. The Talvens were here! Specifically, her best friend, the most important one. Azraindil of course had to wait, a few paces removed from her parents, as they were properly and formally greeted, before they passed her by. To the Lord and Lady, she performed her customary curtsey, before seeing Linny skip over to her. The smile was contagious, Azraindil blossoming like a flower, enough to ignore the…other shadow, looming behind her friend’s shoulder.

She reached and grabbed Linny’s hands, giving them an assuring squeeze. Yes, it had barely been a hour or two since they last saw one another. But here they were in a banquet, dressed up, dolled up, ready for fresh and new mischiefs. ”Fine.” She said about her hands, though it was a brave statement and somewhat of a fib, but her silk gloves covered up the damage. ”Merry is sitting up on the dais with us.” She secretly informed her friend in a hurried whisper, using the elvish tongue. ”Same with Bird-Boy. I will join you all shortly once my duties are done here. There is more to tell!” News of an elf here in Lond Côl and everything!

They were just two young women being silly at a banquet, not too out of the ordinary, though prolonged activity might start drawing eyes and judgemental clicks of the mouth… And Azraindil still hadn’t even registered him amongst this party, to whom she was supposed to be giving the most attentions, if anything, given his future importance to her and her family.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie , @Lantaelen , @Rillewen

Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

"Gaining all the possible victories would surely lead to too much pride, m'lord, and that makes seeing eyes blind," Pele responded to Zâinabên lightheartedly despite the seemingly serious words. "I deem that the young lad behaved with much honour when he gained victory, so may he have some joy."

She smiled at Orelnith, a knowing look in her eyes for she had no doubt that she would know where the dress came from; besides, Pele hoped that the lady would not take borrowing the dress as an offence. "It seems that women often have to be versatile, as need requires, m'lady," she responded.

To be honest, Pele found greetings at the door easier than finding a place among people, most of whom were already with their own families or friends. She did her best to remain somewhat inconspicuous as she looked around for a place to settle, debating if she should join some group or other, and if she needed proper official reasons to do so. It seemed that no matter how many banquets and balls she attended, such events always made her feel somewhat out of place at first.

[Arnyn]

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Lady Silivren Himhathol | Lord Macardil Himhathol
Himhathol Pavilions

Lady Silivren had reclaimed Marion, once Karis had left for the archery range, to make sure arrangements could be made with the expected pomp and propriety, while still keeping to the less embellished tradition of House Himhathol as compared to some of Belfalas' other noble families. For one did not take a message from House Azrubel lightly, no matter how eccentric their reputation.

As the hour to the evening banquet drew ever nearer, however, Silivren's attention was increasingly claimed by her son's pavilion. Which remained suspiciously still. Not even Karis had entered there upon her return, some twenty minutes earlier. When her patience was finally at an end, Silivren sent in Marion to find Ruthor. And when the squire reported to her own tents, Silivren's blue eyes were calculating as she assessed his expression and body language for any hints his words not drop.

"My son?" she inquired simply.

Ruthor bowed. "Still resting, my Lady Silivren. After bathing and caring for his injuries, Lord Himhathol retired to bed. Which is where he had remained." The squire's eyes flicked to Marion ever so briefly, who had taken up position a step behind and to the side of Lady Silivren. His attention was soon enough entirely fixed upon the older lady. "Alone," he added, realizing Silivren would wish for confirmation, even if she would never ask, and even though it made him uncomfortable to add such information.

"He needs to rise," the Lady informed the squire. "He will be expected at the evening's banquet."

Ruthor chewed his lip.

"Speak," Silivren prompted, curious to the excuses the young man would offer for his Lord.

"My Lady..." Ruthor was unsure of how to continue, but he soon found a way he figured would be acceptable. "If he is to joust tomorrow, I believe the wisest approach would be to limit Lord Himhathol to a quick meal this evening, in the silence and privacy of his own tents. Rather than a drawn out proceeding amidst much more noise, which will require more energy."

"Lord Himhathol knows all too well that a jousting competition encompasses more than the matches upon the sands," Silivren countered. Her words, however, were gentle. For she recognized the squire's wish to care for his lord. "Wake him."

Wringing his hands, the squire bowed again, and trailed toward the main pavilion. Silivren had Marion pour her some water, and the lady was slowly nipping from her refreshments while watching her son's tents. Curious as to whether Ruthor would appear once more by himself, like a beaten dog, or alongside his lord. It took a while, but both men emerged in the end. A hint of displeasure pulled at Silivren's lips when she saw Macardil was not suitably dressed for a banquet, however.

"Mother," Macardil addressed her, upon reaching her tent. Ruthor scampered off to the side, just beyond view. "While I understand what you are saying-"

"Evidently," Silivren interrupted her son, "You do not. Perhaps you have spent too long a time in Minas Tirith, and have forgotten about the demands of more polite society. Your presence will be expected this evening. If you choose not to attend, your absence, as well as your choice, will be noted. Lord Dimaethor will know it is a choice, Macardil." One set of startling blue eyes held another, and the moment stretched long as neither mother nor son looked away. Measuring. Battling.

"Not attending may be perceived as a slight," Macardil realized.

Silivren nodded. "Moreover, your absence may be perceived as..." she raised her eyebrows as her gaze dropped tellingly to his chest.

"Weakness," Macardil grumbled, realizing that not partaking in the banquet in the Hall of House Dimaethor would announce to all that Lord Himhathol either did not deign to honor his host, or was too injured by the joust to pay the honor to begin with. He held back his urge to swear, instead squaring his shoulders. "Ziran will not be pleased."

"Ziran will live," Silivren said, before sipping her water again, her right elbow resting on her left wrist as the arm was crossed in front of her. "She had handled everything else which has been thrown at her, Macardil," she added, speaking gently now. "I believe you can trust her to continue doing just that."

Well, yes. Of course he could. Macardil held back a sigh, knowing his mother had just won the battle. "Will you send Marion to her?" he asked, thus making the request. While he did not fear to inform Ziranphel himself, he knew time was short. And with his head and his chest, getting dressed properly would take enough time as it was.

"Of course," Silivren said sweetly, before pulled back the light summer cloak she wore. Silivren was already dressed and prepared.

Of course she was. Macardil was not sure whether to be impressed or agitated. Without further words, he wordlessly sounded his retreat to his own lodgings. Halfway to the pavilion, Ruthor appeared as if out of nowhere, following his lord inside.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn

Karis Ziranphel
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Summer’s End, Fourth Age
Himhathol Pavilions

Returning to her pavilion, Ziran had stowed her archery gear carefully, but then collapsed on the bed much less carefully. Her arm slung over her face, she Breathed deeply, willing her body to fully relax for a few moments. Her mind had calmed at the range, but there was still a coil of tension inside at the thought of having to deal with the nobility again and put on the facade without Macardil by her side. She hadn’t seen sign of him on her return, which was both encouraging because it meant he was resting, and discouraging in that he likely felt unwell enough to continue resting away from all distractions.

She let herself rest thus for several minutes before rolling upright and steeling herself to face the evening. It would soon be time for the evening feast, and although she would much rather find a plain meal, hunger would avail her to be polite where she needed to be. Splashing her face with water to help clear her mind, she turned to changing out of her archery garments and into the now, cleaned of dust, dark blue gown, and adding an overskirt of silver and finer boots. She heard the murmur of voices outside, and then Marion pushing aside the flap to enter. The woman moved to help her tighten the laces of the dress and then retrieved jewelry with which to adorn her and style her hair into neater soft waves after Ziran settled her belt with pouch and blade over the dress. The transformation was swift and impressively accomplished with few words exchanged.

“Almost ready m’lady.” Marion’s voice was brisk but soft. “Lord and lady Himhathol will be expecting you shortly to go to dinner.” Ziran paused as she adjusted the brooch on her shoulder and looked to Marion in question before taking the light cloak from her hand. “Macardil will be joining us?” She was careful with the inflection of her inquiry, and didn’t add her question about his health. Apparently she would be seeing him soon enough to ask directly. She hesitated briefly at Marion’s nod, but then took the cloak to swing it around her shoulders in a wide enough arc for it to settle properly over the skirts of her dress. It appeared she would need to summon her strength for a different challenge instead, that of not showing her concern. “Thank you, Marion.” She had needed the warning.

Emerging from the shade of the pavilion a few moments later, her concern was well hidden other than a hint around her eyes as she moved to greet Silivren with a smile. Macardil had not yet appeared, but she knew he would push himself to be quick and wouldn’t be long in making himself presentable despite his injuries. They would show themselves unrattled.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel

|
Lady Silivren Himhathol | Lord Macardil Himhathol
Himhathol Pavilions

Silivren greeted Ziranphel with a smile of her own. She did not doubt the woman to have donned something suitable - Silivren was all too aware of what Ziranphel had brought as luggage, having been involved in most picks that had made it to this trip. And she had noted that the younger woman had a good head upon her shoulders. And even though Silivren knew it was in bad taste to draw comparisons... so far Ziranphel was proving better suited to moving about in the circles of nobility, after merely a few days, than Mellaurel had been, after several years.

"Good evening," she therefore bid Ziranphel rather pleasantly. "Macardil should be joining us soon enough. How were the archery lanes, Lady Ziranphel?"

*

Macardil had left the choice of his garments to Ruthor this evening, for the less he had to think, the better. While his head was no longer pounding as it had been earlier, thre was still a dull, nagging headache which ailed him - and it was quite clear to both the lord and his squire that Macardil would not be able to draw in a deep, full breath of air for days to come.

He dressed in dark grey trousers, tall black boots, and a dark, deep blue shirt along with a rich overcoat in the same midnight colour. The overcoat was decorated with light grey embroidery, the pattern somehow exquisite and brutal at the same time. Ruthor had overheard Silivren and Macardil earlier, and was unwilling to let his lord appear as 'weak'. With a matching dark blue velvet cloak, they were done - and even though Macardil raised an eyebrow at the cloak, H let Ruthor put it on him without further protest.

It would be difficult for either of the women to gauge his mood as he stalked toward them, once he left the privacy of his pavilion. Upon reaching the ladies, Macardil inclined his head to his mother, before his eyes quickly ran over Ziranphel even as he bowed slightly and held out his arm to her. His lack of speech might present a clue as to his state of mind, but his expression seemed pleasant enough.

"Shall we?" he then proposed.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Lantaelen

Karis Ziranphel
Himhathol Pavilions

“I enjoyed them immensely,” Ziran replied to Silivren’s question, with a wry smile. “It was good to be able to use my bow again and find anonymity for a short while, so I found it calming. A way to set the events of the day aside for a few moments.” It would likely be her only allusion to how jarring it had been to see Macardil injured twice, as well as witnessing the rescue of the young girl.

Macardil joined them moments later, walking across the grass with a confident stride that hid his injuries well. She’d turned at the sound of his step and watched him with mingled pride and concern tumbling through her chest. His silent nod to his mother and bow of greeting to Ziran showed his usual smooth manners without a hitch, leaving aside the less usual lack of speech. She knew her own gaze had been assessing, taking in the elegant and strong style of his attire in addition to his movements, but she moved without hesitation to take his arm when he proffered it and proposed moving on. Her smile was one of pride and affection despite the lingering concern she had. “Aye. We shall.” They would meet whatever might come with a united front.

*

Their steps were unhurried and their words sparse as they walked across the grounds to the Dimaethor castle and entered the gates to make their way to the Keep proper where the host and hostess stood to greet the guests. The morrow would see Macardil and Abrazimir meet in the finals, and it was fitting to show their chivalry by the families dining together this evening. To show the world that they were civilized rivals rather than enemies. “Lord Zâinabên. Lady Orelnith” Ziran gave a curtsey by stepping out slightly from Macardil while not letting go of his arm. “Thank you for the hospitality of your hall.” Indeed, the place was splendidly appointed and welcoming.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel

|
Lady Silivren Himhathol | Lord Macardil Himhathol
Banquet and Festivities

"It pleases me to hear you have found a way to accomplish that," Silivren allowed, when Ziranphel referenced that her archery practice had enabled her to clear her mind, if even for a short while. Silivren knew how necessary that could be, when mingling in these circles.

The approach of her son, and the look of him, pleased her as well. He always dressed well, but after what she had impressed upon him earlier, Silivren appreciated the choice of clothing all the more. She wondered how much of it had been his call, this evening, and how much of it had been Ruthor's. She would have to make note to convey her appreciation to Amarthon, for his choice to send Ruthor to the Dimaethor event - and not another.

Meanwhile, Macardil had made sure to direct plenty of his attention and energy to move well, both to dispell any possibly concern on Ziranphel's part as to already put in place the front he would have to display at the banquet. He did not miss the way his betrothed took his measure. And Macardil knew that, even if it was not visible, shee would still worry for his state of being, regardless of the pride in her dark eyes as she accepted his arm.

*

@Lantaelen
They had clearly spared no expense. As they entered the Hall, and were relieved of their coats and cloaks, Macardil seemed to take it all in stride. He was the one, however, to take his betrothed's outerwear from her shoulders and subsequently hand it over. He was the one to take the lead, naturally, in their approach of their hosts, with Ziranphel on his arm on one side, and his Silivren walking on his other side. At his behest. He did not prefer his mother to walk alone behind them.

"Lady Orelnith," he bowed, deep enough to make his chest constrict uncomfortably, "Lord Zâinaben. Good evening to you and yours. House Himhathol is honoured by your hospitality and invitation." Once their hosts had greeted them, Macardil would step onward to their daughter, Lady Azraindil, to offer her a greeting and bow as well.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl, leading Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
to find Arkadhur under the watch of Hir Sarnirion Lindesul
In a Wine cellar of Castle Azrubêl, East Bank of Lond Côl. Late Day 2.

It had taken them the duration of the horse race to travel the Dimaethor grounds and then over river from one bank of Lond Col to the other. There, while the rest of the Jousting attendees were readying for dinner at Castle Dimaethor, Isys led her kinsman instead down to a wine cellar, at Castle Azrubel. And not for any of the reasons which anyone who thankfully did not observe them, might believe. What dungeons Castle Azrubel could boast were currently under the process of being dried out, after a flood had breached the foundations. And while the prospect of letting their uninvited guest wet his heels in a half-sodden cell was tempting … the desire to drown him would be all too easily satisfied.

“The only generosity he may count upon of me at present is his miserable life,” the lady declared, the words echoing down the ancient stone staircase like ghosts. “Though there were promises made back in the White City, which he reneged upon by vanishing en route,” she recalled, with distaste. Vows such as confessions to be made of all and any atrocities committed in Belfalas, just for starters. “Unless he has took such a detour from his fate to ready the werguild that was spoke of, owed to the Dringolben family ?” Isys mused, though even as she touched upon the matter of ‘debts’ which her kinsman raised, she could not convince herself that was why Arkadhur had surrendered to them. Had the Umbarian refugee escaped the Prince’s prison transport solely to retrieve his hidden wealth and hand it over to his victims ? No, he had not spoke of any such intention. And he had been searched since his arrival. The only coin on his person had belonged to the guard whose uniform he had stolen.


“With luck, Lindesul shall have unsettled him some,” she shared, what she had witnessed of the Elf’s influence over the prisoner. The woman’s voice low now as they paused before a long stone corridor, concluded by a strong studded wooden door. “Maybe he shall find us a relief, and boast and brag as you rightly say he is so inclined to ?” she could hope. Abrazi ever was the bringer of hope, when all seemed fell. “You have my thanks, in this, regardless,” Isys admitted, offering only a swift glance over to the lord as the corridor gave way before them. “We need only enough of an admission to ably advise your father whether his event is in jeopardy.” She nodded as though it would be that simple.


For truly, Arkadhur could simply not have escaped from the custody of the ‘Aearmahalma’ without help. If he was here, then for what cause and with thanks to which nefarious ally ? There must be an explanation, and it was not one she was convinced that would be fulfilling to hear. But since they two had both been instrumental in arranging the man’s arrest back in Minas Tirith, and his transfer toward Belfalas, Isys knew that Abrazi would likely not be able to focus upon his pending joust, with so much uncertainty hanging over the entire estate. What if the enemy were counting on targeting the knight while he was distracted by the joust itself ? She had already abandoned all thoughts of competing herself, thanks to this diversion, but she could not leave her kinsman out of this; even if she had felt competent in managing the Umbarian alone, any more. Which she did not entirely. If she had been any sort of capable in that regard, they would not now be in this situation. There was simply no way they could risk that Umbar intended a second desolation of their homeland, of their friends and family. Lord Zâinaben would certainly be more inclined to heed the words of his son, and ever had the House of Dimaethor been honoured by their latter-knighted neighbours seeking for their expert counsel.

“We stand strongest when we stand together,” she smiled, the old adage summoning hope, “I shall shadow your lead in this,” she nodded, approving his plan.


With a deep breath and a stalled heart, Isys knocked sharply on the heavy door. And moments later the obstacle gave way, revealing a pale face upon a lean form who stood taller than either of the two Gondorians. The Elf’s countenance seemed oddly angular and striking without anyone who looked upon him knowing quite why. Long silver hair fell from his brow like a shroud, and blue eyes were not bright but seemed as though they shone like a lost star, through a blizzard.

Isys introduced the pair to one another, in Sindarin, which she knew that Arkadhur was less than proficient in. And the Elf ducked his chin once, though reverently, before the young Dimaethor, but spoke naught else yet. The immortal’s weapons had been laid out across a table on the far side of the room, whether to display them as a warning, or to keep them from finding hand too swiftly, .. it was unclear. The Elf did not venture any update on their progress, which Isys took to mean there had been none since she had last stood in the wine cellar. As a makeshift prison it managed. The Umbarian was bound by each wrist extended outwards with a strong rope which stretched across the length of the room. He could not sit nor did he seem to have the strength to stand for much longer, suspended so in the middle of the chamber. Already he was almost lounging on the ropes at his wrists to keep himself upright.


The ill-gained uniform of a House Azrubel guard had since been stripped of the man, so that a more mundane and far less impressive ensemble now clothed him. He did not look to be injured or ill treated, save for being so restrained, and weary. But a beard had crept like a shadow all about his jaw in the months since he had last seen Abrazi, back in the Houses of Healing. Dark hair was no less long than before, although tangled now around a tired face, and some crusted blood could be noted beneath his fingernails. But as the noble lord and lady ventured proper into the room, Arkadhur raised his chin in a semblance of recognition, and trekked their movements with his brown eyed gaze, although he was spared from attempting any bolder move himself.

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

The next to arrival were a particular set of nobles. His son’s opponent for the ultimate victory of the joust. ”My Lady. My Lady.” Lord Zâinabên greeted the mother and wife in turn, before flashing a half-grin to the Knight and competitor. And former criminal. But ah, that reputation should be all but erased after tomorrow, if the fates saw fit to crown this man as the champion. ”Lord Himhathol.” Lord Zâinabên said, sizing the man down and up. ”Valiant effort today against that roguish Pelargir knight, Sir Rûthon. We shall see more of that effort tomorrow, no doubt.”

”My Lord,” Lady Orelnith inclined her head respectfully, ”even more valiant was your restraint when our precious Airelen escaped our watch and interrupted your match. My father used to say it was more commendable when to withhold a blow, than to eagerly deliver one. You are a master in this wise philosophy, risking your competitors blow to prioritize the warding of our Airelen from grievous hurt. We are all grateful.” She turned and inclined her head again to Lady Silivren and Lady Ziranphel. ”It is us who are honoured by your presence here. Please, come in, eat and drink and be merry. Let all the world’s cares and anxieties be nothing more than these few things.” She beckoned the trio inside, to warm fire and welcoming tables and good company.

Further on, Lady Azraindil watched with adoration and no small amount of star struck amazement as brave Lord Macardil Himhathol, his regal mother, and the formidable Lady Ziranphel, walked by, acknowledging her with a nod. Words weren’t even needed. It was ecstatic alone the bow to create an exciting and interesting factoid to share with her friends later…!

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir Dimeathor
House Azrubêl Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

They were missing the start of the banquet!

But if what Ilisys said was true, which it often was, then merriment and relaxation would have to wait. Abrazimir over the long years of his life had been a frequent guest in the castle of House Azrubêl, from childhood to adulthood. He was well aware where he was being taken within the home of his colleague and fellow Swan-Knight, though he kept the curses to himself when she led him down the stair into the wine cellar, each step reminding him of the sore and ache of injuries suffered during the joust of the earlier day. He knew he ought to skip even the banquet to get as much rest and recovery as he might. He had a most formidable foe to face tomorrow. But whereas that might be a physical necessity, this forthcoming encounter would be one of the mind.

And those challenges could often be more exhaustive and draining than any exertion of the body.

They should have known better than to trust a snake. Defanged, this one had the uncanny ability to regrow them it seemed. He was at first taken back by the vehemence of Ilisys that Arkadhur had only his life left to him on account of her generosity. But then he decided…he liked that energy. Unless he has took such a detour from his fate to ready the werguild that was spoke of, owed to the Dringolben family? ”You’d think a thief and kidnapper would have a ready stash of coin from his enterprises. I guess he’s not a very good one at that either. Just an annoying one.” Abrazimir countered back, none too kindly. If it was indeed that, then he and Ilisys would be toasting to a problem solved, not a new problem dropped in their laps.

He was eager to meet this Lindesul and needed to remember his manners around such prestigious guests, despite the vile and angry thoughts that Arkadhur had the effect of producing in Abrazimir whenever he was present or simply named. He had a fist clenched at his side, just wanting to…strike. ”Save your thanks for now. We might be getting into the deep end of something we cannot yet foresee.” He said, unable to see any optimism out of this yet. Even as a prisoner, he did not know what to expect from the Umbarin. But Ilisys and he had tackled challenges like this before, and prevailed. They could do it again. Together.

We stand strongest when we stand together. I shall shadow your lead in this. ”Mm.” Abrazimir just hummed his approval. He unclenched and clenched both his fists this time. Ilisys opened the heavy doors. Here we go…

Yet the first sight was an ethereal humanoid figure waiting for them. Tall. Formidable. And hair that put Abrazimir’s own to shame. His fists unclenched and he felt a strange calm. An elf stood before him, regal and mighty. Hair the colour of starlight. A deep gaze in his eyes. Abrazimir knew he was looking at an immortal. His life, the lives of his parents, all his lineage and legacy…might be a blink in the lifetime of a person like this.

He felt strangely envious all of a sudden.

Arkadhur was ignored for the present. There was more exciting things going on. They spoke the Sindarin tongue, Ilisys introducing them. ”Well met.” Abrazimir said in his Gondorrian accented Sindarin. The elf inclined is head. His weapons, of intricate design, were spread on a table and Abrazimir as a soldier couldn’t help but stare. They looked like they came from another world. Why did they have to meet in a circumstance like this? Right, the circumstance...

But when he looked up and to the side, where the prisoner were, he understood that they could be laid out like this…because there was no threat or danger from the Umbarin. He was tied, arms pulled to either direction, slumped and limped, not even willing to stand on his own weight. The man, a term Abrazimir used loosely, could not even appear to be a dignified prisoner. Ilisys and Abrazimir approached and Arkadhur finally looked up, watching silently. Sullenly, Abrazimir wanted to think. Did he feel hopeless yet?

”I’d say we got to stop meeting like this” Abrazimir remarked drily as a way of opening up the conversation, referencing how the last time he saw Arkadhur…he had been chained to a hospital bed in the Houses of Healing, ”but I think I’m rather enjoying the sight of it now.” He mocked, allowing himself to half grin. He came and stood a few paces in front of Arkadhur, Abrazimir crossing his arms over his chest. ”So, you got our gold, little man?” He interrogated without wasting further breath on conversation, whether mockingly or otherwise. Two seconds with this snake and his earlier caution about minding his manners in front of the elven guest was forgotten…who could probably hear everything that was being said.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Lantaelen

|
Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Arriving at the Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities, as personal guests of the Azrubel family
End of Day 2 of the Joust

Dravedir bowed his head slightly in gratitude for the Lord's kind words, although he wondered if Lord Zainaben was mistaken with his father's falconry skills, for he and Lord Dimaethor were not too far off in age, but he said nothing about it. "Thank you, my lord." He said, instead.

Meanwhile, Trev had to brace himself and not flinch when Lord Dimaethor's hand clapped onto his shoulder. And when he gave it a squeeze, he somehow managed to keep a little smile on his face, despite clenched teeth. He had endured worse pains, aboard the pirate ship, but it was still difficult not to cringe or make it obvious that he was in pain. Especially with the lord looking at him critically. With his teeth clamped firmly together, he focused his efforts into making himself smile and not pull away from the hand on his shoulder. It was a tremendous relief when the lord moved his hand from his shoulder and turn back to speaking to his grandfather, and Trev was grateful that he hadn't insisted on keeping it there for long.

Still, he couldn't help feeling awkward and embarrassed by the 'hero of the hour' comment, his ears starting to burn a little when he said that Trev should be a squire. Then, when the lady said that they would toast his 'name and deed', he began to feel far more awkward about this entire evening. Fortunately, Lady Azrubel had them move along, for other people were entering now. Among them was Macardil and his group, and while Trev wanted to wave and go ask how his friend was doing, he felt somehow that this was not the time. So he merely sent a subtle nod of greeting his way and hoped that Macardil saw, while Trev waited to find out where he would be sitting. He figured that Lady Azrubel would tell them where they should sit, after all. She seemed to always

While he waited, he absently, and gingerly, rested his hand on his shoulder, as if that would help ease the soreness, while glancing around. The Eglathors would be coming soon, right? He assumed that they would be here, and that his brother would be with them, since he'd gone to spend the afternoon with Caeleb and Iuldir. So far, they had not arrived. And when they did, he wasn't sure if he ought to go and insist that Toby come and join him and Grandfather, or let him eat with his friends. It was a tricky situation, since Toby wasn't even the one that they had really asked to join them, right? But he got the impression that Lady Azrubel had been expecting them all to join them. For Toby to ditch on them was not exactly giving the best impression to the Noble-lady.

---

@Lantaelen

Talven family
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

While Torthon would insist to any and all that he was fine, the healers had still insisted that he take it easy, and that he shouldn't stay out too late. Duvaineth, of course, had taken their side, but he was still determined to make a show at the banquet tonight. So, here they were. The whole family. Not counting the two actual heirs of the estate, one of whom was dead, the other in hiding.

Torthon grinned and shook Zainaben's hand. "Thank you, your son was most valiant as well." He replied. He bowed to the two ladies, and found that the motion made him slightly dizzy. Annoying concussion. He gave the ladies a moment to greet one another before guiding them toward the dais, as invited.

Duvaineth was happy to return Orelnith's greeting, but she whispered to let her know that her husband was suffering from a mild concussion, so they might need to leave a bit early. Just so she'd know, if they did have to step out. Well, the other reason, of course, was that Duvaineth herself might begin to feel a bit poorly, but she wasn't going to say that out loud to anyone. Orelnith would know, she figured. Close friends didn't have to say certain things between them. While she had been feeling slightly better while she had been here, she did still feel a little bit weak already, and she was eager to get sat down.

Linn, meanwhile, was oblivious to each of her parent's maladies, and only felt excited to be back with her friend. She happily hugged Gaer, and then smiled with curiosity when Gaer told her that there was more to tell. "I can't wait to hear it," She whispered back, wondering what it might be. But she had to move on, and not linger. For Gaer had duties to perform, which seemed to be merely standing there and greeting everyone. Which seemed awfully boring to Linn. And one day, that might be Linn having to stand there doing that. She internally sighed at that thought. She smiled and squeezed her friend's hands once more before Togg stepped up.

"My lady," he bowed to her with a little smile. "I have brought your gift along with me this evening, and I hope to present it to you when you have the opportunity." He informed her quietly, not really wanting to draw her parent's attention. But he also spoke openly enough that his sister could hear him, because he didn't want to sound as if they were making any sort of secret plans that would be disapproved of by her parents. This, however, was not the right time to give her a gift. She was standing in the entryway, greeting guests as they came in. He could wait until they were seated and the banquet was underway.

As he turned to find a seat with his family, his gaze landed upon the other young man already there on the dais. Togg's eyes meet Trev's, and for a moment, both young men tensed, though unnoticeably to those around them. For a brief moment, Togg almost blurted out 'What's he doing here?'. But at the last moment he remembered. Right. The commoner boy made himself into some kind of hero today. Though irritated, Togg shut his mouth and gave a terse nod in his direction in case anyone was looking who might perceive that they had taken notice of one another. Then he went to sit with his family, carrying a box which he set in his lap under the table. While trying his best to ignore the "hero" who had dared to flirt with Togg's girl, and had defied his warning to stay away from her.

---

|
Lord Brenior & Lady Aurien Eglathor

It was a rare opportunity for Lord Brenior and his wife to get to go out to anything, together. He was a little amazed that he had managed to convince her that the children would be alright without them for a while. He felt as if it had been years since the two of them had been able to get out anywhere by themselves.

So it was that the lord and lady arrived together, smiling as they entered the banquet hall. "Good evening, Lord Dimaethor." He greeted the host with a handshake. "Excellent idea, to host such this exciting event. My family has been enjoying it very much." Perhaps too much, in the case of his son, but he didn't say that part.

Aurien performed a proper curtsy, smiling as she greeted them as well. "My lord, my lady, thank you for hosting this lovely banquet." She smiled. "We are very happy to be able to attend." She so infrequently took the chance to go out to social events, as she felt obliged to remain at home with her invalid son, that it was a rare treat to be able to go out to these things.

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen @Rillewen

The ladies Eressild and Sirdis Azrubêl
with young Lord Emeredir, at the Evening Banquet
End of Day 2. At Dimaethor Castle.

Eressild had learned many years ago that if people were going to stare, it was worth directing them to do so for the right reason. And although their kindly hosts were not the only ones to note her casual disclosure with surprise, Sirdis and Anardil were well enough practiced by now in concealing their nonplussed reaction. The unusual appearance of Gaelanna, the .. second .. absence of Ilisys, and little Airelen’s very recent and dangerous introduction to the day’s grand event .. were all capably overlooked in favour of intriguing hints and endearing children. Not to mention their humble guests of honour. And the importance that Eressild had placed on the clan from across the river being one of the first to arrive .. had certainly been as much a means to offer the Dimaethors a timely alibi for their absent son, as to also ensure any words between them on that, or any other of the drama, were conducted with the least amount of public scrutiny.

But their neighbours seemed equally well practiced in receiving drama with a measured calm, so that the generosity of welcome passed with cordial exchange. Merry and Airelen had met the kindness shown them with wide smiles, with the latter waving back enthusiastically toward Azraindil, while the former ducked his head as respectfully as his grin betrayed his age. Anardil had taken the latest reminder that he was no knight .. with the same mannered silence he had grown accustomed to; assuming only encouragement rather than criticism from Lord Zâinabên, and a question that was meant more as a gesture than in demand for response. But Gaelanna was so pleasantly astounded to be met at such an event with the same grace as would a battle-scarred soldier of the realm, rather than a ruined delicacy, and the emotion she could not speak in response was evident in her very grateful, blinking expression. Sirdis subtly stalled their party from selecting seats however until Eressild had commended the Thormaetha’s for this first hurdle .. satisfied.

.
“Your grandson is so very well informed,” Eressild observed to Dravedir kindly, that young Trevadir had greeted the Lady Azraindil by name. She had not noticed whether the young lady had given her ‘permission’ for this familiarity, with a small nod or smile in his direction first. And certainly she had never expected that the two young people would have even been acquainted yet. But the young man had been polite regardless, and perhaps he had merely put time and thoughtful mind to schooling himself of the young noblewoman’s name.

He had earned the right to much today that one of his standing would not usually have, absent such heroics. Though the uncertainty of events back on their side of the river were a nagging insistence in the back of the lady’s mind. Eressild was glad to note that it all seemed to be proceeding as well as could be hoped for, thus far.

---

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Airelen, finding her place, with her parents,
Lady Gaelanna of House Estennin, and the Esquire Anardil Thavron
Banquet at Dimaethor Castle, end of Day 2.

“Captain Alarion,” Anardil acknowledged the Ranger, with an approving glance at her borrowed apparel. “I am glad to see you did not fight off the young ladies’ efforts to adorn you for the eve with all the prowess I know you possess.” He hid an almost teasing smile under a reverent bow: very much glad to see the woman, safe, and set for enjoying her evening. “May I present my wife, Gaelanna, And Airelen ..” a glance for their daughter proved only that she had escaped her mother’s hand yet again. “Captain Pele Alarion, of the Kings Rangers,” he introduced the officer to his lady wife at least, with all the owed respect evident in his tone.

“Captain,” Gael remembered her raising well enough to forget her own insecurities and curtsey, to make welcome a stranger in their midst. “I have heard of you, of course,” she downplayed all the how and how much .. for truth she might not be standing in the halls of her people, with a family, .. if it were not for her husband seeking out the Ranger in days past. He had not managed to retrieve his colleague from hostile climes back then, but a chance meeting and the lady’s own consequent rescue .. was a direct result of the friendship which Anardil owed Pele. “I am very glad to know you,” she admitted, gently extending a hand to meet the other four fingered survivor, in as downplayed a manner as she could achieve, in company. “Did I hear that you possess a penchant for horse riding ?You truly are as brave as is said.”


A tug on his shirt would alert Trevadir to where Airelen had gotten to. While he shrugged his sore shoulder, the small girl gazed up at him, earnestly. “Apples wants to sit next to you at dinner,” she announced.

Sirdis took time out of commending her son, for his first grand feast greet, to note the girl’s wish expressed. “That is not quite how we ask politely,” she acknowledged gently, and with an apologetic look towards the young man. “I am sure that there shall be many folk hoping to engage with our hero tonight. We must be willing to share his attention with ..”

“Pleeeease Trevder” the child persevered, taking a pause from sucking on the ribbon of her wooden toy horse,. to try and win over her audience.


“I believe that Emeredir, as lord, has right to dictate where we sit,” Eressild recommended, putting the challenge to their nobleman in training. “What say you my lord ?” she prompted, drawing Merry out of his fruitless search to see if others of his picnic friends were attending this eve. A thoughtful pause suggested that this was not (for once) a pre-scripted performance, though quite why the lady had elected to trust the young lord was open to speculation.

“Lord Dimaethor did invite us to the dais,” Merry considered. “And it would be rude to disregard such a kindness.” The hope of being able to share words with Azrain, with anyone near to his own age who was not his niece .. was of course also a factor which the boy did not speak aloud, but it featured heavily in his decision. “But we do not all love attention,” he frowned, without looking pointedly at his brother and sister in law. Though clearly he knew that they fell into this latest category. “I shall be proud to take up our host’s invitation, so that others may be spared the notice, if they wish,” he decided. Without laying down any decisive law or certainty for the rest of the party to comply with. Sirdis was pulled out of her very proud mother moment, by observing her son’s glance in her direction. He wanted her at hand, and she nodded, understanding and falling to the nobleman’s desire.

Eressild of course had never entertained the notion of not sitting in her usual place, at the head of things and so the young lord was flanked by his mother and aunt as he found a seat where Lord Zâinabên had all but recommended. Gaelanna glanced wistfully toward a less prominent place, but held polite beside her husband, hesitant to make any decision. And Anardil took his thoughts in a silent question to Dravedir, for as ‘out of water’ as the esquire felt here, he knew he was not alone in that regard. Though he felt more alone than he was comfortable with, in the knowledge of what strange threat might be poised to strike their happy congregation. Where were Isys and Abrazimir ? Had the rogue not imparted the information they required yet ? The esquire could not act on his concerns without their due approval, but it was becoming more and more difficult to forget what he knew. Without extending a look towards the Lady Eressild either, he wondered whether she was similarly smothering a sense of alarm. For there was without doubt an Umbarian across the river. And the last time that had happened, during a grand party .. well .. he could not lie. So he hoped nobody would ask him what was wrong. But he remembered ..

[Ercassie]

@lantaelen

Lady Ilisys Azrubêl with Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
in the unexpected company of Arkadhur and Hir Sarnirion Lindesul
In a Wine cellar of Castle Azrubêl, East Bank of Lond Côl. Late Day 2.

Isys held back, as she had proposed to, first while Abrazimir became acquainted with their immortal guest. And then as he also reacquainted with their other, not so welcome, guest. Of course somehow the Lord had seen through the Umbarian’s skulduggery almost straight away, from the first moment he had met him, even in the appearance of their working together, back then. The lady had been initially perplexed by her kinsman’s confident suspicion of her ally, until it was proven wholly justified. And then she felt only infuriated at Arkadhur, for having rendered her to apparently the state of an empathetic fool, as most would assume of her entire gender all of the time. She could hardly blame her kinsman for being absolutely right, after all. She had though, initially felt sorry for the appraiser. She had believed the lie. She had never imagined that anyone would undergo so much insanity in order to appear ‘authentic’ in their ruse. And every time she told herself there might be some hope of humanity in his soul, some new revelation was unearthed to unsettle her thinking over again. Well enough of it ! She had tried for more than a day now to see the foe confess the truth behind his apparent surrender. Which was altogether suspicious. To say the least. Especially given the timing of it all. But thus far, if anything, the Umbarian seemed to simply be enjoying the attention which she was affording him. Regardless of their other company.


The newcomer’s jibe of ‘little man’ had at least stirred some degree of indignation in Arkadhur, but any attempt to spur himself to a more upright, and full heighted stance was far too much trouble at this point. The Umbarian had been held so for near two days now without relief. So that he was tired, but he was not done. There was little that a Gondorian could conceive which would ever rival what he’d seen and known in Umbar. He had endured Keket’s games. He could endure this.

“Careful there, o Knight. Express too much delight in others’ suffering and people will begin to name you an Umbarian,” Arkadhur managed to coax out a thin-lipped smile, at the notion. He was rather enjoying the sight as well, of his two old acquaintances at any rate. They were both here now. She’d done exactly as he had known she would in the end. Azrubel had brought in Dimaethor. Whatever might now happen across the river .. they two, of everybody assembled, would not be caught up in it. He just needed to keep them here ..

“’Your’ gold ?” he raised both his eyebrows if not any of the rest of his face, quizzickly. “Are your coffers so lapse that you would encourage me to compensate the little smith, just so that you can in truth resolve your own financial incompetence ?” The Umbarian’s chin rose, as he glanced from the lord to the lady. “I suppose your Father’s grand affair must be expensive. Alas though, we should have to see me free, in order to take that walk and retrieve funds enough to settle your House’s debts.” A wiggle of one wrist implied his difficulty with complying. As though he ever actually meant to.


Isys managed to resist the want to roll her eyes, openly. But the steel of those grey orbs stiffened, from fluid mist to frozen stone. The elf on the other hand .. began to noisily, deliberately, rifle through the weapons he had laid out, carefully raising first one and then another, as though in consideration, or lost to fond memory of the past deeds those tools had shaped.

“Careful, friend,” Arkadhur seemed to catch note of these motions, out of the corner of one eye. “If you take my head, your hosts here shall never learn how I escaped the ‘Aearmahalma’. Nor what came of all the Belfalasian souls who set out on that fateful journey with me.” As far as threats went, this reminder of why they ought not kill him, was as telling for his desperate sake as much as their own..

“We stand already at such an impasse,” Isys muttered, pointedly.


“I would not start with your head,” the Elf proved that he both understood, and could speak adequately in the common speech, when he desired. “When there are so many .. other ..”

“And then explain to the Prince that you resorted to such atrocities ?” the prisoner put to him, rather than simply swallowing uncomfortably. ”After all, your mother,” Brown eyes blinked away exhaustion and flicked instead toward the lady, proving he had overheard Eressild’s intention earlier, “did send word to his royal Guard already, to come and collect me. Would His Grace not know horror at hearing of a knight's unchivalrous temper ?”


“I am no knight,” Lindesul put in, matter of fact, sliding a pale hand almost affectionately down the shaft of his elegantly sharpened axe. “And neither do I stand your friend,” he ensured the Umbarian was schooled to that effect. Before a subtle gesture indicated to Abrazimir to continue as he wished.

The sense of real danger may not have incited the prisoner into an urgent confession, of what he was actually doing here. But it did render Arkadhur to an atypical silence. No more productive perhaps, for their hopes of information about what he knew. But somewhat satisfying nonetheless. Because it might mean that he was in fact scared. And he truly was, in fact. Though not for the reason that the three may have assumed.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

|
Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities
End of Day 2 of the Joust

Dravedir bowed his head slightly. "Yes, my lady." He answered, though slightly embarrassed by the possibility that Trevadir may have made a mistake in calling the lady by her name. He wasn't quite sure how to properly explain his grandson's familiarity with the lady. While he knew that both of the boys had been at the falconry tent at some point, and that the youngsters had been talking, he wasn't sure whether that was proper for him to explain that to lady Eressild. "I believe they may have been introduced before today, in the presence of some others their age." He ventured a more general explanation, while keeping his tone low.

Trev, meanwhile, was unsure what to do, or where to go for seating. He was still slightly trying to will his shoulder to recover from the squeezing hand of Lord Dimaethor, when the little girl began tugging on his shirt. Slightly surprised, he turned with a little smile at her adorable claim that her toy horse, Apples, wanted to sit next to him. He was really not very used to small children, but he smiled nonetheless. "Oh, um, I think maybe you have to ask the grown-ups where Apples gets to sit," He whispered to her, while offering a little smile to assure Lady Sirdis that he didn't mind. Idly, he wondered if horses ever actually 'sit'. He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen one sit down, but he also didn't spend a lot of time around horses.. and he didn't want to, either.

As it turned out, however, the matter was to be left to Lord Emeredir to decide. Trev still found the whole thing rather strange. The boy was about the age Toby had been when Trev set off on his 'adventures'. To think that a boy so young was technically in charge of the Azrubel's entire future, was a bit strange for him to consider.

While his grandfather offered a slight shrug in response to Nardy's questioning glance, Trev's attention was distracted by the arrival of a few others. First, the Talven family. He had been dismayed enough that he had to spend the evening in uncomfortable clothes, with all these nobles and formality, but that jerk who'd had the audacity to 'warn him off' was here, too? He had to hold back a groan when he saw the guy come in, but then he made up his mind to do his best to ignore him.

Fortunately, he then saw Macadil and his fiance and mother, and that brought his smile back. At least there was a friendly face here. He resisted the urge to wave, but he did smile toward his friend and nodded to greet him.

The next arrival that he noticed was Lord and Lady Eglathor, without their children. He was slightly disappointed, for he had expected to see his brother arriving with them. If it had not been for all the formality and protocol and all that nonsense, he would have gone over to ask why Caeleb, Iuldir, and Toby were not with them. But, he knew that would surely be frowned upon. So, he held back a sigh while he decided he'd be giving Toby an earful about this little stunt, later. He'd promised he would be here with them! Trev was not too happy with his little brother right now, but he tried to remind himself that he had plenty of childhood 'stunts' of his own to live down.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Whatever be Lord Talven’s condition, it was still no small feat to be present here after the hard fall he took during his defeat in the joust, even more so after Duvaineth let on to Orelnith that he had been diagnosed with a mild concussion. Of course Orelnith would accept the most justifiable clause for early departure on account of health, though her husband’s judgement and criticism would be based on how long they lingered for his feast. Success of such a banquet was dependent on the number of guests and how long everyone lingered. Zâinabên was most anxious that everyone should enjoy themselves. And in doing so, bring some glory to his House and family for being able to throw a good party.

After the Azrubêls and Thormaethas, after the good Captain Alarion, and the Talvens and proceeding Himhathols, came Lord and Lady Eglathor, a surprising and most welcome sight. ”Well met, Lord Brenior, Lady Aurien.” Zâinabên greeted the pair, shaking the hand of the Lord, while the ladies could exchange a curtsey. He gave Aurien a nod in greeting as well.

”I hope your son is doing well, my Lady.” Orelnith asked of Aurien, having seen Darcaeleb amongst the crowd. ”And your daughter and niece are most pretty. I am glad to see them getting on very well with our own.” She gestured over to Azraindil, who took half a moment to realize she was being addressed and quickly performed a silent curtsey for the Eglathors.

Zâinabên gestured for the Eglathors to proceed on into the hall. ”We are glad to receive you. Please, come in, eat and drink and be merry. Tonight is a celebration.” He urged them to enter the banquet and find seating amongst their peers and countrymen. He had hoped to see their children though, to add their youthful joy and exuberance to the lively atmosphere of the party. Children were always easy and quick to laugh and that might add a lovely contagion to the banquet. Perhaps another time then.

---

@Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

It was with measured practice that Azraindil could juggle her hostess duties, to look polite and perform the necessary acts of decorum to passing guests, while maintaining a conversation with her best friend. Linny of course understood, especially with the promise of further company to be shared later on in the evening, when Azraindil could be more carefree with her responsibilities.

A final squeeze of hands and Linny moved to step off. But the sunshine of that brief meeting was soon overshadowed by a new dark cloud on her immediate horizon, as Toggornir stepped before her, with a bow and a smile. Azraindil returned the grin…but it was forced. Rehearsed. In his hands was a box. His promised gift to her. He mentioned this earlier at the horse races but she let a little surprise show on her face still. ”Oh? Linny gave me one earlier today, it was so wonderful.” She pretended to be intrigued. Maybe she was, a little. Toggornir had been building it’s anticipation up throughout the day, keeping it a secret and all. She should keep an open mind. It was a gift and he was trying to be nice. Right? It reminded her of her own return gift to present to Linny.

His attentions then seemed diverted to someone else in the hall and she could see his features suddenly contort with…stress? Tension? Anger? He looked like he was almost going to swear in a spontaneous eruption of emotion! Azraindil looked…but Trevadir had moved on and she could not fathom who was the source of this aggrieved attention from Toggornir. She looked back, eyes demure, like she didn’t notice this unworthy expression in him and performed another curtsey on the spot. ”Well, I’ll be on the dais after my responsibilities conclude here. I hope you have a good time, Sir.” She surmised the interaction, watching Toggornir follow after his family with the box in hand. She wondered vaguely if it would be a good idea to have him present his gift in front of the entire hall. What if it was…bad? She had a strange, sinking feeling in her gut that she could not shake off despite the upbeat atmosphere about her.

He just had that effect on her sometimes.

---

@ercassie

Lord Abrazimir Dimeathor
House Azrubêl Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

…Express too much delight in others’ suffering and people will begin to name you an Umbarin.

”Not others. Just yours.” Abrazimir retorted swiftly. Arkadhur really could bring out the worst in Abrazimir Dimaethor, Swan Knight of Dol Amroth. The man was just aggravating. Like a constant grating of sandpaper against his skin and mind. He had plagued the people of Lond Côl for years and years now, always somehow managing to get away, to escape justice, or repercussion. He knew it was wrong to delight in others suffering. Being compared to an Umbarin was further salt on that. But Abrazimir couldn’t help his temper. It felt so justified to want to try and seek retribution on this thing.

No, he did not have their gold. Not for the Smith’s family or anything. He even dared to mock the Dimaethor’s finances. ”Financial incompetence? Big words, little man. Yet you’re the one in stolen garb. Can’t afford your own rags?” Really brought out the worst in Abrazimir, trading barbs with this man like they were sparring ground rivals. How Isys could stand this man’s presence in her home, even as a prisoner and captive, was beyond Abrazimir’s understanding. If Arkadhur had been a prisoner of House Dimaethor he would have longed been gagged by now.

It seemed the elf shared Abrazimir’s sentiment, as he began to…experiment, with certain weapons. And perhaps imagine the effect they would have on their rude mouthed shackled prisoner. Arkadhur though was unconvinced, continuing to mock them with the deliberate withholding of information that Isys and others desired. Only her concerns kept Abrazimir from thrashing and throttling the man. He continued to glower, as the elf and Arkadhur exchanged words, now daring to threaten them with His Grace the Prince of Dol Amroth’s opinion of their apparent unworthy conduct.

Abrazimir started to smirk. Morbidly. The elf responded that he was no knight. Nor a friend. Well, it ought to go without saying that nobody here was Arkadhur’s friend. In fact it seemed an easy gamble that no one called him a friend in all of Middle-Earth. To this person, he had only victims or enemies. The elf gestured to the actual knights to continue, with Abrazimir crossing his arms. No rejoinder or retort to the elf, huh? Interesting.

”I’m not worried about His Grace’s opinion of our conduct. The worst I’ll get is a slap on the wrist. I’ve been slapped on the wrist before. You’ve been slapped on the wrist before, right?” He inquired sarcastically towards Isys as well. Not something to worry about. They had a measure of unbridled power here with their prisoner. Would anyone really blame them for harming, or disappearing, such a despicable pirate, thief and kidnapper?

”You better start talking about what you know, you motherless knave. Now is not the time to not say. Because I’ll take your socks, wipe down every disgusting surface in this place, and stuff it in your mouth. You can stay silent forever after that, I don’t mind.” Abrazimir shrugged his powerful shoulders. He was missing a party for this? Isys and he should be center stage, drinking, laughing, making merry with the others. Instead they were here entertaining a spider. ”Or you can continue staying in the safekeeping of our honoured guest here.” He nodded in Lindesul’s direction. ”Nobody will be explaining anything to the Prince because nobody here will have seen or heard anything.” Abrazimir threatened in a low voice. But perhaps in vain, as this sort of talk and coercion was no doubt commonplace in Umbar. But, being so frustrated by Arkadhur’s schemes and how often he got away with them, the helplessness that he felt in not being able to do anything was aggravating Abrazimir to no end. He had to do something, harsh words or more. Just…something.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie

Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

"It might have been tempting to resist the young ladies if not exactly fight them off," Pele responded, glad that Warder and his wife had approached her and set her free of wandering around the banquet hall aimlessly. "But I figure that I should not escape all the socialising duties, sir Anardil." Her blue eyes held a measure of amusement, which was soon exchanged for acknowledgement and respect as she reached out to respond to Gaelanna's extended hand. While gentle, her hand conveyed also strength and confidence, even as she added heartfelt words in greeting.

"It is my pleasure to meet you," she said to the lady and also meant it, the faint but sincere smile and eye-contact confirming as much.

A not of amusement then returned to her voice as she said: "I wonder if what you have heard of me are the silly pranks that I sometimes manage to do... But I assure you, m'lady, that I can also be serious at need." She glanced at Anardil, wondering if he even knew of any of her pranks to be able to tell them. "As for horses, it seems to me that while they may be unpredictable and easily frightened at times, they are wonderful companions, and I find that I do not need excessive courage to handle horses. I must confess that attending such formal banquets requires more courage of me than dealing with my the most obstinate of horses."

She paused and then enquired more quietly: "For example, I am not at all sure if the seats here are assigned or may be chosen in no particular order. Any advice as to this question might be welcome."

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lady Gaelanna of House Estennin, and the Esquire Anardil Thavron
with their daughter, Airelen, Banquet at Dimaethor Castle, end of Day 2.

“I am sure the young ladies will not soon forget the experience,” Anardil observed, that perhaps the young women had enjoyed the dressing up of such a guest more than the Ranger might know. “And I am glad to find you arrived in one piece,” he admitted, honestly. As though that same ‘dressing’ had exposed his friend to cats with hidden claws. “Free to find some peace, amidst all of the ‘excitement.’”

Any effort the man may have attempted then to point out he was not in fact a ‘sir’, and could not be unless all were in league and determined to see him a knight .. was instead diverted to a smile which he shared with Dravedir. “He is holding his own,” he muttered to the falconer, approvingly, of his young kin. And only enquired “How does your shoulder fare now ?” to Trevadir himself, as he caught firm hold of Airelen’s free hand.


Gaelanna had stolen Pele entirely, in the meantime, reflecting back the same joy in her face, as her newfound company. “Well I must confess, I did hear something once about a stable .. and a funny mess ?” she leaned her head in close so that she was able to share with Pele behind a veil of dark hair. And there was no judgement, but genuine mirth in the recanting of that tale. “We ladies must find any means at hand to justify the taking of a luxurious bath, yes ?” A conspiratorial smile escaped the lady, whose husband was as startled as he was grateful to observe their getting along so well so quickly. Two women who were each nervous for their own sake, but naturally inclined to show kindness and support to another. Yes, he could relax on that front at least now.

“My husband is the horse fanatic, I am afraid,” Gael admitted to the Captain, with a side glance of affection aimed in the esquire’s direction. “The city I was raised in calls for horses drawing carriages, not like out here in the country. So my governess never saw need for me to learn to ride. Now I am outnumbered by enthusiasts. It seems unfair of me to insist my daughter learns how to behave around such creatures, when I am so ignorant of them myself.”


“Who are you looking for ?” Airelen wondered, tugging again at Trevadir. Mostly noticing because the young man seemed more engrossed in that than in committing his whole attention to her. “Did your brother bring the birds ?” Stretching out at the limit of her father’s hand in hers, the small girl set ‘Apples’ the wooden toy horse upon the nearest table, and had it tap against the set plate there to amuse herself.

Observing this, and her husband’s reluctance to make a decision rather than serve and support somebody else’s, Gael realised that she must be decisive. Anardil was little more used to attending such a noble feast than Dravedir or Trevadir. But Lady Estennin, as she still stood, had attended countless such occasions back in Dol Amroth, in her youth. Perhaps sitting down, they would attract less attention from other people coming into the hall .. who would no doubt wonder else, what the cause might be for their hesitation. And as though she could feel the eyes of Eressild upon them, the young mother knew .. they could not afford to be seen as hesitant.


“The rule stands that one can not claim a seat upon the dais, unless personally invited by the host of the feast,” Gael remembered her own upbringing enough to answer Pele’s request for advice. “Elsewhere is first come, so served, and we are fortunate to be some of the first in. Traditional manners of course discourage the sitting of a person directly next to their spouse, which was supposed to be for fear that the two might behave too ‘familiar’ in public.” A swift scrutiny of the set out of tables and chairs led the noblewoman toward her selection, and allowed her to hide the scandal of her amusement at the very old fashioned rule. “Though these days we are led to believe that such restraint encourages talk with new friends and neighbours instead, that a person may not have known before the gathering. Come,” she squeezed the Ranger’s hand ever so slightly in a gesture of friendship as she moved toward a certain table and waited behind a particular seat. “Sit beside me. And perhaps we shall manage to be brave together,” she smiled, even before her husband appeared, and drew out the chair she had selected, so that she might take seat. Anardil then offered the same courtesy to Pele before leaving the two ladies to themselves.

Airelen coughed loudly as she stood behind the chair on the other side of her mother, following that same mother’s example, and looked toward Trevadir with large pleading brown eyes. Her father rolled his own grey eyes, as he found a place next to Dravedir, and took a seat with Gael’s nod of approval. There were many places left for others to join their throng, and they were close enough to the dais for the hosting family to find them. As well as positioned in such a way to catch any warning or hint from their little lord (or rather .. Eressild, in truth). Where the dais naturally offered the comfort of important persons sitting next to their spouse, or whoever else they felt like. Such was the privilege, or perhaps the terror, for there more eyes would inevitably fall from the entire hall of guests, upon their each and any move.

[Pele Alarion]

@Ercassie, @Rillewen

Pele Alarion
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

"The whole dressing matter was generally quite amicable," Pele admitted to Warder, holding back further comment that neither party was hurt in the least during the whole process.

"Ah, the stable mess..." She then laughed softly when Gael entrusted her with the rumours that appeared to have travelled across the whole Gondor. She absolutely blamed Isys for telling the story, but then again - there was no denying that it happened and it was best to confess to it. "A scented bath was very much called for after the less scented experience in the stable."

While she no longer laughed, a smile remained on Pele's face when she asked gently: "Are you afraid of the horses or simply not used to them because you have had no business to be near them or handle them? These animals can be quite amazing though also intimidating because of their size." While the thought did cross her mind that perhaps she should offer to introduce Gael and Airelen to Temper, but she did not offer the option thinking it might be very unladylike and be bad for reputation.

"Suppose I am not bound by too many restraints in where I should sit," Pele responded when the manners, old-fashioned or not, were explained to her. Her heart felt a tinge of sadness as she thought that she would rather prefer having Maldir with her and less available options for seating, but alas... "I assume you have more courage in such social occasions than I do, though I should probably spend more time in gatherings such as these," she said aloud, forcing the former sad thoughts out of her mind, just as she accepted with thanks Anardil's kindness of pulling the chair out for her.

Having taken the seat, she then took to observing people nearby considering what small talk could be made with each.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

|
Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities
End of Day 2 of the Joust

Dravedir gave a small nod in response to Anardil, although he was still a little worried. He had yet to see Tobedir anywhere, and he wasn't sure what to think about that. He wasn't happy about it, and he planned to talk to that boy once he saw him again. But, for now, he and Trevadir would enjoy this evening's banquet.

"Oh.. it's fine," Trev answered with a hint of awkwardness, not wanting to make a big deal about his shoulder. Especially since, if he was correct, then the lady talking with Gael, was a healer from Minas Tirith, right? He was pretty sure he'd seen her before, and he didn't want to draw any undue attention to his bruised shoulder. It still felt sore from being grabbed by their host, but he'd be fine. He'd endured worse. Much worse. He was distracted from that topic, however, when Airelen asked him if his brother had brought the birds. Trev smiled at her. "No, the birds will stay in their little houses until they're ready to go flying," he explained. "My brother has yet to bring himself, though, so I was trying to watch for him." He looked over then as the little girl's mother took charge of their little group, and began to explain the seating expectations. He was glad that someone in their party knew that, because he was mostly used to just sitting wherever his friends were sitting. Or else, finding the only available spot to sit.

While he watched the others begin to select their seats, he was wondering where he and his grandfather would be expected to sit, when Airelen's cough drew his attention to her. With a little grin that refused to be stifled, Trev dutifully pulled out the chair for the little lady, and assisted her with scooting it in close enough to the table. "How's that, my lady?" He asked, slightly amused, simply because the girl was so adorable. "Is Apples going to need this seat?" he asked, indicating the next available chair, smiling slightly. He did recall her saying that Apples wanted to sit next to him, but he assumed that was code for 'I want to sit next to you', so if she didn't claim it for her toy horse, then he would take a seat there and try to get through all these formalities.

"Do you intend to partake in any of the contests?" Dravedir asked Anardil in the meanwhile, turning to him once everyone in their party was finally seated. "I've heard there are many going on in the coming days. I think there was a race or something, today, and something about an archery contest, tomorrow? I believe there will also be a few other sorts of contests." He was old, and not much inclined to try any such things, himself. Handling his birds was enough for him, but he knew that the squire might find these things far more interesting, so he was curious whether he planned to enter any of them.

---

@Lantaelen

Dulinneth
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Linn would have rather lingered by the door with Gaer, but she knew her mother would expect her to come along and not distract Gaer from her responsibilities. She was curious what Togg had in that box, which he seemed so eager to give to Gaer. He was very proud of this gift he had, and he refused to tell her anything about it. It was probably just something he'd bought in the city, she supposed. He probably just didn't want her to blab to Gaer about what it was.

She looked around as she joined her family in selecting seats. Her mother was greeting Lady Azrubel who had joined them on the dais, but Linn was feeling a bit left out, being the only lady here that wasn't a grown-up. Hopefully, Gaer would be able to sit with her, but Linn also understood that her friend might have other obligations that might press her to sit elsewhere. In the meanwhile, she watched Lord and Lady Eglathor come in, and she was disappointed to see that they did not seem to have brought their children with them.

Fortunately, there was another kid nearby, although not a girl. Linn waved at Merry, recalling their talk of paintings and horses earlier. She wondered whether there would be anyone else around their age to talk to, but so far, he was the only kid here besides little Airelen, who was sitting with her parents, not on the dais. She smiled slightly as she glanced over there, seeing the girl's toy horse, it reminded her of some of her own toys, back when she was that little. Too bad the little girl hadn't been able to join them for their picnic earlier. Perhaps they could do something like that again, tomorrow, and bring her along. That would be fun, wouldn't it?

---

@Lantaelen @Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

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Lord Brenior & Lady Aurien Eglathor

Aurien smiled faintly at the kind words about her children. "Thank you, they send their regards. I'm afraid Caeleb was feeling a bit too weary after so much excitement today," She explained softly, not wishing for it to carry to the other guests. "He is.. in a rather delicate state of health, unfortunately, so we thought it best to have him get some rest. He ate an early supper and went to bed already. His friend is staying with him, as well." She explained. Aurien was worried about her son, of course, but Brenior had insisted that he would be fine in the tent, and that Iuldir would take good care of him and that she mustn't miss this banquet.

"The girls should be coming along, soon," Brenior put in with a little smile. "They required a little longer to finish getting ready." Meressel was the culprit there, in fact, but she had insisted that Dina not leave without her. And Brenior agreed that they ought to stay together. Even though it wasn't far. He wasn't really in favor of them walking around by themselves at night, but it was all on Dimaethor grounds, so it should be safe enough, right?

After greeting their hosts, the couple continued on into the hall. Brenior's smile grew as he saw his friend already there, and he went straight for Macardil. "Good evening! How are you?" He greeted him, then bowed to the ladies, Silivren and Karis. "Ladies, how are you this evening?"

Aurien smiled as she stood with her husband. "I'm sorry I haven't had much chance to speak with either of you, so far." She recalled meeting Macardil's fiance, when they arrived, but they had not interacted since, and she had been quite preoccupied at the time. "Is this your first time coming to one of these?" She asked Karis, curious about whether she had prior experience with such events.

---

@Lantaelen


During a brief lull in the greeting of guests, a servant approached Lord Dimaethor quietly. He was one of the assistants for a healer who worked for Lord Dimaethor, who had a tent set up near the tournament sands.

"My lord, I have a message from my employer," The young man explained. "Lord Ansellidus is at our tent, and he wished to convey that he has taken your advice and sought a healer's attention for his wounded arms," He explained. "Upon inspection of the wounds, my employer has decided it best that he remain in the healer's tent, where we can keep a careful watch on him throughout this night, lest the wounds grow infected and it worsens. He hopes to be released in the morning, but he begs your pardon for missing this evening's banquet, and he wished to relay his deepest regret in not being able to attend."

He spoke softly enough not to disturb the other guests as he relayed his message, and then told him which tent it was, in case Lord Dimaethor might find the information useful. He may want to visit the younger lord, perhaps, or just to verify that he wasn't making up an excuse.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen

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Lady Silivren Himhathol | Lord Macardil Himhathol
Banquet and Festivities

The reception they now received from the Lord and Lady of House Dimaethor felt like a stark contrast compared to that upon their arrival. The events between then and now certainly had had their effect. Macardil therefore did not find it difficult to receive the lord's compliment, and he inclined his head in gratitude. "I am looking forward to facing such an opponent as your son upon the sands, Lord Dimaethor," Macardil spoke truly, his smile gracious. "All who know him, know he shall ride with honour." Which could not be said from either opponent Macardil had faced, so far. Unfortunately.

When the lady had offered her own compliment, Macardil's tendency toward humility brought forth a hint of colour upon his clean-shaven cheeks. "You honour me by such words, my lady," he replied, going so far as to bow to her. "I thank you both."

After greeting and bowing to the young lady Azraindil, Macardil took in the individuals already present in the hall.

At the same time, Silivren was doing the same. She had offered polite and friendly words to their hosts as well, and was now entirely focused on noting who would need to be spoken to throughout the evening. Certainly, Lady Eressild, given the message the latter had sent her. She also easily recognized the young girl Lady Dimaethor had referred to. Airelen. Macardil would definitely need to share some words with her parents, Silivren mused mentally, even if they had already spoken briefly upon the very sands, earlier.

Macardil noted the girl and her parents, as well, of course. He also spotted his friends, Trevadir and Brenior. The concern whether Toggornir Talven, also present, would not be able to stay his hand or his mouth for the duration of the banquet, reared its head. Hopefully, the younger Talven would keep his wits about him. It would be unwise to reveal he had fought the hero of the day. And lost. Then, there was Captain Pele Alarion. It seemed like he would have to be making the rounds, at some point. Although, it seemed that one of his friends was not going to wait for Macardil's initiative. Brenior and Aurien both joined them. When Macardil could feel Silivren stiffening at one side of him, he briefly placed a reassuring hand upon his mother's arm, before greeting the couple warmly. Macardil had told both his mother and his betrothed that he and Brenior had shared an uplifting conversation and whatever tension had been between them upon their arrival had been erased. However, a mother did not forget transgressions against her offspring all that easily. Even so, most of the tension left Silivren as quickly as it had encroached upon her. "Good evening," Silivren offered politely, her smile not unkind.

"Good evening, my friend!" Macardil spoke to Brenior. He lowered his head to Aurien. "My lady."
"Well enough," he told Brenior quietly, as the conversation split off a bit between the men and the women. "I considered not coming. However.." He indicated Silivren with no more than a flick of his eyes. "I was reminded of my... duties."

Silivren was all too aware of her son's words, and their meaning, but she did not mind for any of Macardil's friends to know she still had value as an adviser to the Head of House Himathol.

Meanwhile, Macardil smiled questioningly at his friend. "No children, this evening?" Another flick of his sapphire eyes indicated Aurien. And she agreed to this?

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

It was unfortunate that the Eglathor’s son could not be here. The Dimaethors would have relished the chance to feast and host as many as possible but if the young lad was fatigued then there was no pressing the issue. ”Fashionably late, huh? Good to learn early.” Zâinabên jested about their girl’s lateness, earning a teasing look of disapproval from Orelnith. The Eglathor’s then continued onwards to join the rest of the banquet, as more and more guests lined up behind to be greeted and welcomed.

Not long after, a servant of the local healers approached, well known to the Lord and Lady, with a message regarding the young Lord Ansellidus. The young Lord was very much indisposed on account of his injuries and would not be attending, to which Zâinabên simply nodded and waved the servant off hurriedly, much disappointed by this news. ”The man has an excuse for anything. He could have sat quietly in the corner and nursed his wounds with good drink and food.” He scoffed quietly to his wife, who by then had learned just to let her husband ramble on and get it out of his system.

Eventually the trickle of arriving guests slowed and most everyone who was due to attend was present in the hall. Anyone else would have to find their own seating and place in the hall, with almost all the good tables and nearest benches to the front occupied by the less tardy of guests. The Dimaethors with daughter in tow made their way to the dais and could take their seats. They would all be seated on one side of the high table, facing the hall, where all the other tables were perpendicular to their own. The Lord and Lady were to be seated in the midst, with their guests of honour about them, the Talven-Taurhebors to the side of Orelnith and the Azrubêls next to Zâinabên.

With the children Azraindil, Dulinneth, and Emeredir to the end.

---

@ercassie @Rillewen

Lady Azraindil Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Freed of hosting duties, of looking nice and proper, Azraindil followed her parents up to the dais, where she got to join Dulinneth and Emeredir seated at the edge of the long table. Seen, not heard, as was intended for the children of noble folk. ”Hullo, hullo!” Azraindil beamed in a cheery fashion as she joined them, though she did not sit yet. Emeredir was seated closest to his family, that was right, but Dulinneth was stuck on the edge, with the seat between for Azraindil. But she figured she’d make a better bookend.

”Why don’t you sit here, Linny?” She suggested, indicating the middle seat, and Azraindil could plop down at the very edge. The guests were supposed to be the primary recipients of joy and nourishment, no? Let them then be closest to the fun stuff. ”I’m finally free…!” Azraindil exclaimed with relish, able to talk and move and all. ”I wonder where Meressel and Dina are. Still getting dressed? Do we…do we look more diminished we didn’t put that much effort into our outfits?” Azraindil asked of Linny. After all, here at the front, with everyone looking their way, they ought to look smart and prim and beautiful for everyone.

---

@Arnyn @ercassie @Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Zâinabên Dimaethor & Lady Orelnith Dimaethor
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Servants with large ornamental staffs at either end of the hall began to bang the butts upon the ground, making a call for silence and attention, as Zâinabên signaled for cupbearers and servants to refill cups and make ready for a toast. His own was raised, as he stood alone among those on the dais, calling all to order to properly begin this feast.

”My Lords, my Ladies, good folk of Gondor, and my esteemed countrymen, and all visitors from afar…welcome. This day, and those to follow, shall see us gather to celebrate not only the valour and skill of our brave men and women, but to signal the beginning of the days of peace and prosperity for our Realm, and the Return of the King. Hail Elessar Telcontar Aran Gondor ar Arnor ar Hîr i Mbair Annui!” he said, leading them to the first toast, which by rights, should always be for the King.

”Secondly, after a day of triumphs and close encounters, let us toast to our final two competitors of our glorious jousts, my son and heir, Abrazimir Dimaethor, who seems to forget he is a participant of such prestigious games,” hold for laughter, ”and our guest, Lord Macardil Himhathol. May the victor prevail with the grace of the Valar!” And thus was the second toast and applause for the finalists. Rûthon pouted in the corner, but he and his Pelargir buddies all toasted and applauded nonetheless. They were all, at the end of the day, countrymen and allies.

Now, what would follow next might be…nightmarish for the subject of the toast.

Silence hung for a moment after the second toast was made and drunk. ”Trevadir Thormaetha,” Zâinabên’s voice boomed out and his eyes swept the banquet hall for the young man in question. They landed with a deep gravity and the Lord raised his cup in the man’s direction. Stand up. In front of everyone. While they looked at you, one and all. ”Some of you may have heard the near-calamity that befell one of our precious daughters on the sands of our joust. Only by the quick wit and boldness of this brave young man was a terrible tragedy averted. If the future of Gondors be in the hands of such youth, then I shall go beyond the confines of the world carrying no trepidation for our people, for Gondor will be safest in the hands such as these young boys, to blaze a bright, noble path for all that follow hereafter. Hail, Trevadir Thormaetha!” And all were bidden to hail his name and drink.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen @Lantaelen

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Banquet and Festivities

Before Brenior and Aurien could react, the sound of wood thumping the ground caused all conversation to stall, as their hosts grabbed the attention of all. The table closest to them was were they were beckoned by the Dimaethor staff, and after a quick look at his family and his friends, Macardil wasted no time in his approach. First he held chairs for both his betrothed and his mother, and only then did he claim his own seat. Right before Lord Zainaben Dimaethor rose from his own chair, to stand alone as he rasied a toast.

To king and country. Macardil drank deeply.

To the joust finale particpants, upon the morrow. He drank to the honour of Abrazimir Dimaethor - absent as though he may be.

And.. to Trevadir Thormaetha. Macardil could not help his broad grin when Lord Dimaethor's gaze fell upon Trevadir, and the older man raised his cup to the younger. It was an honour which Macardil assumed his friend would not fully appreciate. First of all, because Trevadir had no clue of the weight of such a toast. Second of all, because his friend was too humble to take it in stride, and would probably redden with embarrassment.

Be that as it may, Macardil wholeheartedly agreed with Lord Zainaben. Macardil was the first of the guests to follow Lord Zainaben in rising from his chair. The toast was nearly ended, and it would not be taken as a slight, now. It would only be taken as a sign of his conviction and agreement with their host.

"Hail, Trevadir!" Macardil's deep voice boomed, before he put his own cup to his lips and toasted to his friend.

[Karis Ziranphel]

@Arnyn @Rillewen @Lantaelen

Karis Ziranphel
House Dimaethor Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-en-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Ziran had afforded a smiling nod and murmured thanks to their hosts as Macardil gave a deep bow of greeting that gave her a slight twinge of concern even though she knew he did so to make a statement. They had offered kind words, and she was grateful for them. Her smile was broader in response to the younger Lady Azraindil Dimeathor, who was more visibly delighted to have received such a greeting from one of the heroes of the afternoon. Once they were well out of earshot and slowly walking through the assembly, she murmured quietly to him. “That was well-done.” Ziran was glad to see that Pele had arrived and was already in conversation with the parents of the young girl that had caused so much excitement earlier.

They watched several more arrive, including Trevadir and his grandfather, and the Talven family, before Macardil’s friend the cartographer Brenior arrived with his wife….Aurien. Her memory supplied after a moment. Ziran felt herself tense slightly in anticipation of further slights, but the couple greeted them with smiles and cheerful words. Quite the change from just two days prior, but she was willing to see whether the change was genuine. Macardil had briefly mentioned that things had been patched up with his friend, but they hadn’t had time to converse about it. “Good evening.” She replied a bit more subduedly but with a pleasant smile. Her eyebrow twitched up slightly at Lady Aurien’s words before she controlled it. “It has been busy and full of excitement.” She replied in response to the woman’s greeting. “As to the feast, I have been to many, but not one at a joust like this.”

The call to take their seats interrupted the brief conversation, and Ziran parted with an encouragement to enjoy their meal before she followed the usher to the table and accepted Macardil’s aid in taking her seat. It was much easier to accept the aid when the challenges of sitting in voluminous skirts presented themselves.
When Lord Dimaethor started off the feast with three toasts, she was more than happy to lift her glass in agreement and support before taking a sip at each toast. To the King, to the valiant competitors who would take the field on the morrow, and finally to Trevadir. Ziran smiled proudly at Macardil as his name was mentioned, and then laughed lightly as he jumped to his feet to second the toast for Trevadir. “Hear, hear.”

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen @Arnyn @Karis Ziranphel

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Lord Brenior & Lady Aurien Eglathor
Joined by Dina & Meressel

Brenior was glad to hear that Macardil was doing well. "I can't say I would blame you, if you had not." He mentioned, although he also could understand about 'duties'. "I'm glad to see you though." He considered asking if he was looking forward to the tournament tomorrow, but he decided against it.

Instead, his friend's question made him hesitate. "The girls should be along any moment," He answered. He glanced briefly at his wife, who was nearby talking with Macardil's fiancé.

"Nor have I, actually." Aurien admitted in answer to Karis' reply. "I don't often get much chance to get out to any events such as this, so it is a nice change." She smiled, although she couldn't help feeling a bit preoccupied with wondering about her son, back in the tent. She would have stayed behind with him, but her husband had insisted that it would offend their host if she did not come, so.. here she was, trying to enjoy the evening.

Brenior looked back to Macardil after seeing her busy talking with Karis. "The boys have already gone to bed for the evening, after an early dinner." He explained. "Caeleb had a bit too much excitement today, so-" Before he could say anything more, the signal came that the banquet was starting. Everyone who was still standing hurried to find a seat, and since he and Aurien were already near Macardil and his ladies, they ended up finding seats near them as well. Just then, he spotted his daughter and niece coming in, and waved for them to join them.

The formalities were just starting as the two girls arrived, just before the speeches began. Meressel had refused to run, so there was not a curl out of place, nor any dust on her shoes, nor were they breathless. Lord Dimaethor was just about to begin his speeches, and Meressel saw her father motioning to her. "Over here," She pulled Dina along with her, and they were seated just as everyone else was taking their seats. Just in time for them all to join in with the toasts made by their host, and to cheer for the king, for the competitors, and for the hero of the day.

For the second toast, Brenior, as well as his wife, were happy to toast to direct their cheers toward Macardil. Especially since Abrazimir wasn't even present. Next, Lord Dimaethor made his third toast, and Macardil cheered with enthusiasm for his friend Trevadir. To the surprise of some, Brenior also joined in cheering for the young man.

---

@Ercassie

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Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities
End of Day 2 of the Joust

The hall was filling up with more noble folks, and Trev was feeling more out of place with every person who entered. He really didn't feel like he belonged here. Finally, it seemed like it was time for it to begin. And then Lord Dimaethor began to talk, making a toast to the king first of all. Trev glanced around to see what everyone else was doing, and followed the example of those around him.

The second toast was to the competitors; Abrazimir and Macardil. While Trev didn't really have much positive feelings toward Abrazimir, after some bad experiences at sea, he wholeheartedly joined in the toast for Macardil, smiling as he cast a glance toward his friend, mentally wishing him well for the competition tomorrow. He noticed that the Eglathor family was sitting with Macardil. Except for the boys. Trev assumed Toby must be with them. And they were sitting way over there, so he couldn't ask them why none of the three were there. He tried not to think too much about it, and held back a sigh.

Then, suddenly, his name was called out. As Lord Dimaethor began his third toast, the words made Trev want to shrink into his seat. He felt his face growing warm as all attention was suddenly called toward him, and he felt his grandfather's eyes on him, as if trying to mentally tell him something. After a moment, he heard Macardil's voice cheering for him, and his ears were burning as his face reddened slightly, but he also smiled to hear the voice of his friend, being the first and loudest to cheer for him.

[Ercassie]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lady Gaelanna of House Estennin, and the Esquire Anardil Thavron
with their daughter, Airelen, Banquet at Dimaethor Castle, end of Day 2.

“It would be indecent of me to do anything but take your word on that,” Anardil assured Pele, with a small smile which was not entirely hid by the respectful bow of his chin.

His wife was equally as polite, agreeing with Pele that a horse can certainly seem much larger than imagined, when they are seen up close for the first time. “You must be very used to such animals to be comfortable racing them. Have you been riding since you were very young ?”

It seemed like a fair enquiry to make, without prying. And if Airelen was determined to be so around horses, then maybe learning more about them, and their dangers, in a controlled environment, might be wiser than trying to forbid it outright.

"Feasts can be a little contagious, if you are not careful,” the mother smiled gently at the kind Captain. “Once you appear at one, another host may expect to see you at his feast as well. Or you risk insulting anyone you turn down.” Though Gael imagined that many handsome men of the Prince’s fief would find their eyes drawn to Pele this night, the Ranger seemed oblivious to her natural appeal.


“I wish I could go flying, like a bird !” Airelen sighed, meanwhile, as Trevadir answered her about his grandfather’s birds.

“When you grow wings, you can go flying. I promise,” her father smiled, proving that he was keeping at least one ear on her conversation. Airelen smiled smugly to herself, in such an accepting contentment that her father worried he’d just made a vow he might regret. But since there was no way she could actually grow wings ..

“Queen Elwing did," the child remembered though, with great and sudden glee. “I thank you, Ser Trevder,” she approved, as the young man helped her very courteously with her seat. “But horses do not sit on chairs,” she laughed, and patted the wooden toy on the table top between them, without any hesitation.


“It seems I ought attempt some feat if I am ever to satisfy our host,” Anardil shook his head, meanwhile, in response to Dravedir. Although the joust or the horse race would have been his preference, if matters of greater and more grave import had not kept him from such alluring recreation. “Although I fear I may have missed my chance now. Family ever seems to require an extra eye to keep things under control.” Admittedly he had not been the one who had stopped his daughter from almost being run down in her excitement. But then who knew what she might get up to, if he paid her less mind than he already had been ?!

It would have been rude for him to remark aloud on the arrival of the two belated young ladies, although the man was very relieved to see them finally appear. Silently conducting a countdown in his head, he still had to see a few of the young boys turn up yet. And then he could relax that nothing untoward had delayed anyone. Until he might consider that having them all in one place together might be the enemy’s plan. Presuming there was a plan. By the stars, where were Isys and Abrazimir ?! Anardil was thankfully practiced in veiling his emotions. But internally he was wrung inside out. Several times over.

---

@lantaelen @Rillewen @Arnyn

The ladies Eressild and Sirdis Azrubêl
with young Lord Emeredir, at the Evening Banquet
End of Day 2. At Dimaethor Castle.

“Lady Duillineth,” Merry was pleased to see the new arrival on the dais. And he was also pleased that he could refer to his new friend by her name, rather than as ‘Lady Talven’ now. For they had been formally introduced, by the Lady Azraindil. “Lady Azraindil”. He rose from his seat as first the former and then the latter arrived to take theirs. Only sitting down again once they were settled. For he saw how his mother and aunt had done the same thing, when the Lord and Lady Dimaethor came to find their place on the dais.

“You both look properly pretty,” he conceded, as the young ladies began to debate on their appearance and also about switching up seats. “You are not alone too,” the young lord acknowledged, as he spotted Dina and Meressel making their arrival. Any hope that the other boys might be arriving at the same time though was soon dashed.


There was no time to ruminate on that, for the Host of the feast called for attention. And bade all raise up their cups in honour of their King, their competitors, and an unexpected hero. Cups were raised for the foremost, and voices lifted in cheer for the second to be lauded. Then all eyes seemed to look for this third, even as his fellow hero of the hour was the first to ring out praise. For Trevadir

“Stand up,” Anardil encouraged the young man in hushed tones, but it was his daughter who took the advice. Clambering onto her seat, Airelen stood up so that even her short stature could be seen. Then she unfastened a small golden flower from where it had sat in her dark hair, behind her ear, and presented it to Trevadir so that there could be no doubt. Not only that she was grateful to him, but where in fact the modest young man was in the room.


“I pray you take this symbol of our thanks,” the small girl recited, along with the silent but moving lips of her mother. Who had clearly helped her ready for this possible scenario. The golden flower was of course, not merely a flower of gleaming hue, but gold itself of rich make, and worth. Truly it was a miracle the child had not lost it in the short space of time that it had been about her person.

Her one saviour having been forcibly endowed with his reward, Airelen then clambered back down from her seat, without tripping over her bright cerulean dress. And accepted a second golden flower, from her mother. It was a short walk, and only a brief arm extended to point her toward Macardil. The other hero who had already been called to attention by Lord Dimaethor. A very quick curtsey was wobbily managed, before the little girl thrust out her arm a second time, and pushed the pretty golden favour toward the Lord.

“I pray you take this symbol of a thanks,” the child shared a second time, working each word out, and then gazing up with a wide grin at Macardil once she had managed it. On the dais, Eressild ducked her head in a subtle acknowledgement of thanks to Zainaben, before she too calmly joined the rampant applause which the Lord’s toast had inspired throughout the entire room. And somehow Airelen found her way back to her seat without further mischief.

[Arnyn]

@Karis Ziranphel @Rillewen @Ercassie

Lord Macardil Himhathol
Banquet and Festivities

There had not exactly been much time to tell Ziran much of anything about his talk with Brenior. He'd intentionally not broached the subject at first, because he wished to have enough time and peace to inform both her - and his mother - in full... Calmly. After the joust, would have been a good time. With his injury, however, he had needed rest, not possible calamity in conversation from the fiercely protective ladies in his life.

And thus, rest had been the choice he had made. Of course, given his condition, he had also no longer intended to actually attend the feast, which meant that there was no pressing need to inform Ziranphel or Silivren.

Hence, it was entirely his own doing that his betrothed was less open to Brenior and Aurien than she might have been, had they talked more at length. Now, all he had been able to use was part of the walk over to the castle. Part of it - for, at first, he had been debating both the necessity of such a talk, and the suboptimal results it would yield. Yet, Brenior and Aurien were more likely not to notice anything about Ziranphel's demeanor. First and foremost, they did not know her at all, and secondly, her cues were rather subtle - even for Macardil - for her smile betrayed nothing at all. Thankfully - since they would all be sitting together. Macardil supposed that it was a good way for Ziran and Silivren to truly take note of the fact any hesitance on Brenior's part had vanished.

The sight of Trevadir's smile after Macardil stood and was the first to echo their host's toast, made Macardil's grin even broader. Trevadir was looking a little red, there, yes - but the young man would need to adapt to such... consequences of his heroics. At least, around these parts. He could imagine that Trevadir was more used to his good deeds going unacknowledged, or even warped into some sort of negative. The lord realized he was proud of this particular habit among the nobility: to give credit and honor when it was due.

Even as Trevadir seemed to want to melt and vanish into his chair, little Airelen climbed atop hers. As she did so, Macardil reclaimed his own seat, although his eyes curiously remained upon the girl as she took something golden from her hair... a flower? Was it? And held it out to Trevadir. Not so much an offer as it was a presentation. The girl spoke just loudly enough for the tables closest to the dais to hear the words, and Macardil smiled. Airelen had been well instructed, and her execution was the flawless combination of said instruction and a child's innocence. His heart sighed. Children...

Macardil flicked his eyes to the table as he sought a good spot to leave his glass. When he looked back up, the girl was no longer either standing or seated upon her seat. It was the tiniest hum from Silivren that had him looking over to see the girl's last steps of her approach. To him?
An uncertain smile claimed his facial features at that, but as she halted near him, all uncertainty in his expression disappeared entirely, as the little girl disarmed him with no more than the way in which she curtsied. He was surprised when she held out something to him, as well. A golden flower. Just like she had given to Trevadir.

For a heartbeat, the briefest of moments, disbelief stayed his response. Soon enough, however, he shifted his seat backwards enough for him to face her, and to put one hand over his heart as he accepted the flower with the other. "You and your house honor me, Lady Airelen," he told her. "I could never refuse such a gift. It is well received, thank you." His sapphire eyes followed the girl all the way back to her seat, before he moved his chair back to its original position at the table, and lowered his gaze to the golden flower. A generous gift. And a smart way to provide Trevadir with a reward he could not possible refuse. Macardil's eyes shone when he sought a place amongst his attire to tuck the gift away safely. Possibly in a way that he could display it, as well. Not from a wish to boast - but rather from the wish to show the girl, just on the off chance she cared, that he truly appreciated the gesture. That the family's matron would take note, as well, he supposed, was a bonus he knew his mother would appreciate. And which, to be fair, Macardil should probably care about more than he did.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie @Lantaelen

Dulinneth
The Dimaethor Family Estate, Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil
Day Two, Evening Banquet and Festivities

Linn glanced questioningly at her friend when she suggested that she swap seats with her. Didn't she realize that meant she would end up sitting next to Togg? For he had claimed the last seat at the table, and Linn would've thought Gaer wouldn't want to sit by him. While Lin wasn't really sure why Gaer was suggesting they swap, she didn't protest, for she would rather not sit next to her irksome brother anyway. Togg, meanwhile, looked pleased at this change, since he'd been inwardly annoyed when Linn took the seat he had wanted to save for Gaer.

"Hello, Lord Emeredir." Linn greeted her new 'neighbor' as she slid into her new seat, then grinned at his compliment. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say that." She would have curtsied, but they were already seated, and it would probably draw attention if she were to stand up just to curtsy and then sit back down. "Perhaps they had some delays?" She whispered back to Gaer.

Even as Gaer's father began the festivities, Linn nudged Gaer and nodded toward the two girls in question as they slipped in and joined their parents. Too bad there wasn't enough room for them all to sit here at this table. Soon, the toasting had begun, and Linn quickly hushed. At each toast, she clapped, first for the king, then for Lord Himhathol, and then for Trevadir. She knew the latter best, for he had joined their little group during their picnic, and she and Gaer had talked with him at the falconer's tent on the first day. Glancing around, she was a little surprised that she did not see his brother there at all. "I wonder where Tobedir is?" She whispered to those on either side of her, making sure not to talk loudly enough to draw any attention from the adults.

To her slight surprise, it was little Airelen who presented the latter two with rewards, and Linn grinned, watching the cute little girl stand up on the chair and present the young man with something golden and shiny. Glancing down toward Gaer, she noticed her brother on the other side of her. He didn't really look all that interested, and he was barely clapping. For show more than anything, she guessed. Probably just because he was sitting beside Gaer. She held back a sigh and wondered what that was about, but she had no idea that the two had any sort of history. She turned her own attention toward clapping and cheering all the more for the hero of the day, trying to make up for her idiot brother's lack of doing so. He was fortunate that he was not seated right next to the hosts, or his insincere applause might have been more noticeable.

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Dravedir & Trevadir Thormaetha
Dimaethor Hall for Evening Banquet and Festivities
End of Day 2 of the Joust

Trev grinned slightly at the little girl's wish to go flying, and the promise her father had made. Her reply to that was even more amusing, but Trev managed not to laugh at the idea of her sprouting wings and flying around like a bird.

"You're welcome." He replied with a little smile as she thanked him for helping her with her seat. "Horses don't stand on tables either, though." He pointed out in reply to what she'd said to him. Not that he minded the toy being on the table, but he couldn't help but point out that fact, after she pointed out that horses don't sit in chairs. Soon, the host had begun making toasts... and Toby still hadn't shown up. He was still hoping to shrink into his seat when Nardy whispered over, to instruct him to stand up.

Stand up? Trev wanted to groan, but he drew a deep breath before rising, reluctantly, to let everyone see him. He had come to this event with the sole purpose of keeping a protective eye on his little brother. He'd only come at all because Toby talked him into it, and because Trev was worried about a certain someone trying to make good on some of the threats he had uttered in the past. He had felt self-conscious enough just being here, on Lord Dimaethor's property. Risking whatever reaction might come from those who knew or suspected that Trev had been on a pirate ship for so long. He definitely didn't intend to put himself in the spotlight.

He'd much rather just cheer for Macardil, who had come here with the purpose of competing and being in the spotlight, but as he stood there, ears burning self-consciously, Trev was surprised when Airelen was the one to step up on her chair, and... present him with something that had previously been tucked into her hair. Feeling a bit stunned, Trev could do nothing but accept the flower. He stared at it in amazement. He had some idea, thanks to Ryn and his family, how much something like this must be worth. The time that a smith had put into crafting this thing, even if it had been made of iron, would have made it worth a lot. But for it to be made of gold? Cali would be jealous, he thought with a flicker of amusement, but that was only a fleeting thought.

It occurred to him that he should do, or say, something. Besides just standing there looking like he'd forgotten how to speak. "Th-thank you." He managed to stammer out a response, unsure what to even say to this unexpected gift. He couldn't possibly keep this, right? It was far too valuable. There was no way he could feel comfortable keeping such a costly item. But he bowed his head in gratitude, and then watched as the little girl went over to gift a similar flower to Macardil. Trev was glad to see that at least he was not alone in being given such a treasure. Macardil's response was far better, Trev thought, but he probably had far more practice at such things.

Trev realized, even as Airelen was returning to her seat, that he was still standing there. He cleared his throat, then helped the girl with her chair before hastily claiming his own again. Maybe, hopefully, it would look like he was merely waiting for her to return so he could help her, rather than appearing like he'd been so stunned that he forgot he was standing. He totally didn't do that.. nope.