Brethil's Roleplaying Logs

Hall of the Sun
The golden hall cuts through the rock in a long passage, turning a corner at each end. On what would be the outer wall, there are several large double doors between engaged, fluted columns. The marble inlayed floor has been polished to a shine, the images of inlay suns reflecting the relief suns of the flat, golden tiled ceiling overhead. On the inner wall, there is only a single, wide double door flanked by guards. The door itself is heavy wood with gold-filled engravings upon it. The other doors must lead into offices or private rooms.

You hear a herald announce, "Ranger of Dorthonion Finnabair of Dorthonion!" as you enter. Council Chambers of Finrod Felagund.

You are in a large room, an oval shape being twice as long as it is wide. The curved walls are set every few feet with elaborate pillasters, carved as if vines were twining around them through the stone walls. The walls themselves are a marvel, faced with the richest golden marble your eyes have seen, polished to a shine. The pillasters themselves are of a white marble, offsetting the dark walls. An oval of full, rounded columns is in an oval perhaps ten feet in from the walls supporting the roof. They are also made of pure white marble with golden guilded carved vines twining up them. The capitals of all the columns are carved like fronds of curly-leaved plants, embracing a golden ceiling set with sparkling gems. The rooms itself is furnished with great chairs in the center, soft and well-stuffed. The largest seems to be reserved for the King himself. There is a thick red carpet covering the entire floor and bright lamps flicker happily. Dark, wooden tables made to curve with the form of the room are placed against the walls and they are laden with fruits, mushrooms and sweet wines. The only apparent exit is a set of double wooden doors leading out into the hall.

"Certainly, milady," answers Curundil once he's ensured that Elwen is securely seated. He moves away and begins pouring her a glass of white wine, and has just turned back around when Fuintir makes his entry.

The sight of the Farothrim lieutenant causes Curundil to freeze in place, and he hesitates a long while before slowly moving forward again to hand Elwen her wine, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he does so. Unusually silent in fulfilling his errand, he steps back until his back is to the nearest wall, watching Fuintir all the while.

"Good," Finrod replies to Elwen. "You and I must discuss that which you saw, but it would best be done privately, I think." At Fuintir's entrance, he smiles and inclines his head in greeting. "As ever, your timeliness is appreciated, Lieutenant. I would like you to be with the group that accompanies the High King on his ride north. We do not want any trouble..."

As if the final word was a warning, a pair of guards bursts through the doorway, with a human woman in between them. There is an expression of concern on the guards' faces and one stays beside the woman while the other hurries toward the king. "Forgive me, Aran," he says, bowing his head, "but this woman has just arrived. She told the guards at the gate that her errand was urgent and that she must speak with you immediately."

"Thank you," says Elwen softly, accepting the wine from Curundil. She takes a long drink of it, closing her eyes, and then gives a quiet sigh. "I should have asked for miruvor," she murmurs, as if to herself. She looks up at Finrod's words, and then sighs, nodding her head. "As you wish, lord, we will speak of it privately... though I am weary.... and my daughter needs me, lord." She turns her head as the door opens, her face paling for just a moment as she recognises Finnabair.

Soft and hurried steps echo in the hallway outside the chamber, sounding out more clearly as they approach the entrance and then come to a stop. Framed by the large double doors, there stands a ragged figure of an adan woman bordered on either side by the tall elven guards who announce her arrival to the King. Freed of weapons and armour, she comes in but a long weathered cloak, high, worn boots caked with mud and the clothing beneath is tattered and torn and her hair is wild and unkempt. Colour rides high in her cheeks and her grey eyes fall first to the front of the room where Finrod is seated and then quickly aside to the place where Elwen sits. As the two women's eyes meet, Finnabair's are the first to look away and she hesitates back at the doorway between the two guards.

Fuintir rises from his knee as the guards make introductino of the lady. His brow furrows somewhat in a passing sense of curiousity. He stands to the side of the Aran, paying no heed to the squire he almost certainly had seen. His hands clasp behind his back as his eyes take quickness to read the face of the Ranger, as if attempting to discern what words will be spoken.

The king pushes to his feet in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the woman from the north. "Mae govannen," he says carefully, schooling his face to an expression of neutrality. "Step forward that I may see you better." He waves away the guards absently, his entire attention locked on the woman's face. "What matter brings you so far south in such haste?" Glinirnaeth has changed the poll to: Would you like to know more? Travelling along the rock walls, a soft, silvery chime is heard signalling the beginning of the new day.

Elwen regards the woman of Dorthonion with wide eyes, and then finds herself rising, her feet shaky underneath her. "Perhaps, Aran Finrod, the lady Finnabair might benefit from something refreshing to drink and a comfortable chair to sit in? She may have mine..." A soft, weary sigh, and she closes her eyes briefly once again. "I do not wish to give any commands inyour hall... but..."

Finnabair nearly shrinks back when the King rises and speaks, but her feet make no move to either retreat or take herself forward. The guard at her side departs at the King's word and she stands there alone for a moment, the silence in the hall filled by the silvery chime that rings along the rock walls. Elwen's words bridge the gap and without hazarding a look at the woman, the adaneth begins the long journey to the front of the room. Her slow steps fall silent on the red carpet that spread from each of the marble walls and it takes a nearly a full minute until she is there before the King, dropping to a knee a dozen paces from him with her head and eyes lowered. The ragged cloak spreads out around her and, near to them now, there is a look of thinned weariness upon her. "Mae govannen.", she returns awkwardly, finally breaking her silence, "A matter of grave import.", she adds.

"Thank you, Elwen," Finrod says softly, "but there is no need for you to stand. We will have a chair brought." He beckons to a servant, who immediately returns with an empty chair. At his summons, two others bring a goblet and wine for the newcomer. "Please be seated and rest a moment before you begin your tale. No matter how serious your news, it can wait a few moments more ere it is spoken." As if following his own advice, Finrod resumes his seat, leaning forward to rest elbow on the chair's arm.

Fuintir's eyes bare heavy grievance for the maiden that drops to her knee before the Aran. His eyes scan in silence the garb that tells of the trek she has taken upon herself. Though it is the condition of her face that plays heavy on the sorrow that resides upon his face, causing his face to falter from his composure for a brief moment.

The composure is swiftly regained and he stands tall, though he seems in the presence of the Noldorian Lord that is seated beside him. His lips part as if to speak a word of comfort to the maiden who's malignant weariness seems to spread, but they close in swiftness at words from the Aran.

With a nod to Finrod, Elwen backs up a step, half-falling back into her chair. Yet her eyes remain open, fixed upon Finnabair, wondering...

Finnabair waits while Finrod speaks a brief word to Elwen and then turns back with an invitation to which she shakes her head, her voice entreating, "Nom, my news cannot wait. The people of Haleth have sent me, for a sickness is upon their land and their healers can found no way to stop it, no remedy for those who lie dying. The illness spreads and they ask that you come to them and give them your aid, for the Eldar are wiser than the Edain and the Noldor are friends to both the Haladin and the Beor." Making no move to rise as the King sits, her body bent with fatigue and her words faltering as she adds, "They know naught of the past,", she says, pausing but not deigning to name those things, "Else they might not have risked sending me to you. Nor would I have been so bold to be the one to come if I did not know the matter were grave and know I that could be the swiftest to bring word."

The king's face pales as he listens to the woman's words. "You were right to come here, Finnabair. None here will question your decision to bring this message. But time is pressing, so we must act in haste. Lieutenant," he turns to Fuintir. "Start gathering our folk at once. All healers who can be spared should ride north with the first light tomorrow. We will need guards and scouts to accompany them -- the passage between these gates and the land of Haleth is no longer safe for travel. All others who would volunteer to accompany them have my leave to do so." He pauses and looks back at Finnabair. "You need rest and food. You will be of more aid to your people if you take a few hours to regain your strength...but before you do, I have one further question of you. Your lord and lady...have they been affected by this illness?" "I can... speak to Aran Fingon.... andask that we might send any healers that came with us. Perhaps upon our return, more may be..." Elwen's voice trails off as Finrod continues to speak, and she leans back in her chair, falling silent, flushing slightly for intruding upon this conversation.

The King's quick answer has a noticeable affect upon the adaneth, her shoulders dropping as she lets go their tensed hold and she releases a long breath as he turns and gives order to his Lieutenant for those to be sent at first light. But at his question, her eye lifts up to meet his gaze, "My Lord Barahir remains in Dorthonion with his men. He will not forsake it.", she says tightly, sounding pained by the answer, "My Lady was well when I left Amon Obel."

Funtir's eyes grow wide with import as the Aran voices urgency. He bows his head respectfully after turning those silvern orbs to regard the King, "Another company had returned from the pools of Eithel Ivrin just moments before my arrival across Taleth Dirnen. I shall inform them to prepare for another journey, with your leave." He speaks no other word as he turns from his perch beside the Noldorian Heru, his cloak wrapping about him in a wave of dramatic grandieur, before his feet move to nullify the aire of drama that had taken hold. His feet now fall without silence, and fall hard on the stone floor, resound as if the beat of a heart of some ancient beast.

"I am glad that your lady is well," Finrod replies, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, "though I fear for Barahir and his men if they remain in Dorthonion." He leans back in his chair, considering her words, then blinks as he realizes that Elwen had spoken. "I am certain that the men and woman of Brethil would be glad for the help of your healers, Elwen," Finrod says with a faint smile. "Forgive me for ignoring you. When I saw Finnabair enter this chamber in haste, I feared for the health of Lady Emeldir and her lord." Drawing in a long breath, he turns to Finnabair once more. "Is there anything else that you require of me or my folk? Is there any other aid we might give you?"

Elwen regards Finnabair, relieved when she hears that Emeldir was well. And then she turns her head towards Finrod, and offers him a wan, wry smile. "There is no need for apology, Aran," she murmus. "I have no grand illusions as to my importance. If you wish... I will go now to speak to Aran Fingon... that which I came to speak to you about.... must wait until another day." She swallows hard, ans then bows her head.

Finnabair lowers her eyes again and whispers to herself, "I fear for him too.", her words swallowed by the great height and length of the oval chamber. Placing a hand to the red carpet to steady herself, she shakes her head again, "There is nothing else.", she replies, holding herself upright though weariness has begun to overtake her.

Finrod glances quickly between Elwen and Finnabair, hearing the weariness in both their voices. "Nay, Elwen, I would not have your news wait another day, but we cannot discuss it here." He thinks a moment, then signals to one of his attendants. "Have a bed prepared for Finnabair and have food and drink brought to her. Have a fresh horse readied and supplies packed for the morning. When Lieutenant Fuintir has finished mustering our folk, have a messenger sent to me. I will be in my chamber upstairs." He stands up and waits as the guards and attendants step back to clear a path for him. "Elwen, as soon as you have a moment, meet me upstairs. We must talk." Without another word, he strides to the door and disappears into the corridor.

"Yes, Aran Finrod," answers Elwen tiredly, bowing her head for a moment. "And then she comes closer to Finnabair, and offers her a hesitant smile. "Finnabair... I--' She sighs, feeling awkward. "I know Aran Finrod will do all he can, and I will urge Aran Fingon to do the same." Yet she stares at the adan woman, leaving so much un-said.

Finnabair waits until Finrod has gone and Elwen approaches before rising stiffly from off her knee, swaying unsteadily before standing firm. Taking a step back and regarding the woman warily, she nods, "I know that he will too, Elwen.", she says, glancing about her to the many that remain in the chamber after the Kind has left it. "I thank you.", she quickly adds just before a yawn escapes her. Looking startled, she turns and stops, unsure which way to go and she glances back over her shoulder to the Elven woman, "Which is the way?", she asks, "I need no room, just a bed."

"I will show you, Finnabair," says Elwen softly, biting at her lip at the woman's wariness. She bows her head just an instant, and then motions for the adaneth to follow her. "I would have peace between us, Finnabair," she says quietly.

Finnabair starts off toward the wide double doors at the far end of the chamber, saying nothing in return to Elwen's words but only ensuring one foot falls in front of the other. After several paces though she slows a step so that she can say, "I do not know how that can be, Elwen, nor why you would wish it.", hurrying on again and avoiding the eyes of the tall elven figures that stand between her and the door.

"Because it is right, and just, that I wish it,' says Elwen softly, moving slowly towards the door, her own steps unsteady. "Because it pains me to see anyone wary as a hunted beast before me. I never meant you harm, Finnabair, then or now." She nods to one of the guards, and the doors are opened for them.

Finnabair passes on through the doors as they are opened and then stops in the spacious hallway outside, leaving room for Elwen to lead the way. Turning round with a frown of confusion, she confronts the woman, "Meant to harm me?", she asks, shaking her head, "I do not understand. But Elwen, it has been a long and hard journey and I would leave at first light with the others tomorrow. You need not show me the whole way, just point me in the right direction and I will find it."

Finnabair passes on through the doors as they are opened and then stops in the spacious hallway outside, leaving room for Elwen to lead the way. Turning round with a frown of confusion, she confronts the woman, "Meant to harm me?", she asks, shaking her head, "I do not understand. But Elwen, it has been a long and hard journey and I would leave at first light with the others tomorrow. You need not show me the whole way, just point me in the right direction and I will find it."

Again Elwen bites her lip, and then nods, pointing the way to the weary Ranger. Speaking softly, she tells her the way to the guest suites, and then turns away, so that Finnabair may not see her face, her eyes. "Rest well and deeply, Finnabair, and best wishes for you and your people. May..." She sighs, taking a deep breath. "May the Valar guard you and watch over you." Finnabair looks down the way that Elwen directs her and nods, "Thank you Elwen.", she replies, starting off that way and then stopping abruptly, "Will you come to Brethil?", she asks, looking at her though her back is turn.

"I..." begins Elwen, and then gives a slight shrug. "I cannot say... it is the will of Aran Fingon that I must follow. But..." She sighs, and then turns her head. "Were it my decision, I would not, begging your pardon. It will be a long journey as it is, and I long to be home. I long to bring my child home..."

Finnabair's eyes widen slightly, but she nods and keeps her thoughts to herself, "Then if I do not see you on the morrow, I will say goodbye.", she , turning away and heading off down the long hallway, the old cloak fanning out behind her till she rounds a corner and is gone.