Maegwyn's Funeral

Rivil's Well
Gently rolling hills of long, green grasses slope downward, to a slight depression in the ground. The faint gurgling sound grows louder, the source of the Rivil bubbling up from far beneath the surface. The ground surrounding it has been covered carefully with dark grey stones, which are kept clean of dirt and debris, though the area is quite commonly traversed by the people's of Dorthonion as it provides water for their every day lives. From the well's central location, paths lead off in several directions. To the east, a somewhat boggy track heads into the Low Moors, while the path to the south heads up a gentle incline into hill country. Southwesterly, a path winds up to the forest slope, dotted with scrubby pines, while directly to the west, the sheer grey cliffs of the Echoriath loom. A well-traveled path follows the stream as it meanders to the northwest. The area is seemingly deserted ...

WEATHER UPDATE: The wind, a constant waft, scatters debris in all directions. Amassed in the sky are harrowing clusters of shadowy clouds. The temperature is in the 30's.

Grass covered Cairn in a copse of trees
A grassy mound in the center of a copse of tall pines. The trees shade the cairn, but still the sun can shine through to warm the ground. The grass waves some in the breeze and in the spring, summer, and even the fall remains a deep emerald green. Heather is planted around the base of the cairn, and the tall purple flowers also wave in the breeze. In the center of the long face of the mound are two smooth flat flagstones that look to have come from the river, not far from here. Mounted on the flagstones are two polished metal plates with engraving on them.

The first plate reads: Here is a song in the tounge of the Noldor written by Lord Angadil, upon steel forged by her husband Almar.

Ai! Numesure, linte Numesure! A quetta nin, ecenielye i Roiminde i haiye almarie tauressen arta Earon?

Ninde ve orne, ramea talainen Vantere i tier aldalanda Endoreo Ar curya tingane morne tumbessen Nan ve limba rosseva tintanere ar firnere.

Namarie! Nai vantuvalye oio Arinesse oiolaique taureo.

The second plate reads: Here is a song in the tounge of the men written by Lord Angadil, upon steel forged by her husband Almar.

Ah! West-wind, swift West-Wind tell me, have you seen the Huntress on the blessed distant forests across the Great Sea?

Slender as a rowan-tree, with winged feet she walked the paths of tree-woven Middle Earth And her bow twanged in dark deep valleys But as a dew-drop she glittered And faded.

Farewell! May you forever walk In the morning of an evergreen forest.

Almar stands by the newly made grassy mound in the early morining light. He seems to be speaking quietly to himself as he puts the finishing touches on the metal plates rivited to the flat flagstones. He then stands and moves inward to stand at the narrow end of the cairn, and waits.

Teigril moves quietly down the path, her glance moving to and fro until she sees the green mound..she pauses, then moves forward once more..her expression set, her eyes dark. "Almar?" She says quietly as she nears..."I had thought to find you here.."

Andranar walks slowly down to join Almar. His dark hair is slicked back against his scalp with a mixture of clay and white ash. Gathering his cloak about him, he nods, not speaking. The breeze stirs the still forest a little, rustling the hair and cloaks of the gahtered, as well as the leaves of the surrounding trees.

Finnabair comes slowly along the path from the fort, followed and lead by several other Adan. The earth beneath her feet has been trodden and packed firm, sure and real to her senses on this grey silent morning. Her hair is newly shorn quite short, boyishly so and the scissors given her shine bright in the belt she has tucked them in. Making her way out into the clearing, she holds back a distance from the others, quietly observing the figure of Almar.

Following on the tail of Finnabair and the other Adan, Bregolas wears a solemn expression upon his face. He is clothed in his battle armor, every visible piece of metal polished to an intense degree. His helmet he carries under an arm, as the Lord of the House of Beor strides, measureing each step with the steady pace of a soldier.

Almar looks over as the people start to arrive. He sees Teigril and Andranar first, "Greetings to you both, I am glad you could come." Then behind them he sees the main group of people from Rivil. Picking out Finnabair with her short hair, he nods a greeting and bows whe he sees Lord Bregolas approch. As everyone moves close he motions for people to circle the mound, and when they are done he speaks, "Thank you all for coming. I know this is not a happy time, but Maegwyn always told me that if she died she wantred only to have a gathering of friends come to speak of happy memories of her. So I am doing this in honor of her request." He pauses a moment, but looks as if ready to speak again.

Andranar nods again to Almar, acknowledging him as he speaks. Aside from this slight gesture, he moves little from his place among the trees.

Teigril steps nearer Andranar, making more room for Almar. She looks down at the cairn, the purple blossoms.. "Tis the sort of thing she WOULD have asked..to be with friends was very special to her."

Finnabair remains apart from the others, not wishing to draw into the circle about the mound. Her face holds no expression, her eyes tell nothing, and slowly she moves from her place behind them and takes herself to the thick and ancient trunk of one of the surrounding trees. One hand goes up, then the next, and in it is grasped a silver strip of new ribbon. She draws herself up, starting to hum a quiet rhythmed tune under breath and steadily she climbs through the strong limbs to the heights of the tree.

Almar pauses only a moment before continuing, "My best memory was of our wedding. To see her like that, dresses in white, she was more beautiful than anything I could have imagined." He glances to see Finnabair climb the tree, but keeps speaking, "The night was quite magical and I thought it would never end, and it did not end for a long while. Alas it has finaly ended, but I should stop for I slip form the happy thoughts we are bringing out here." He points down to the two metal plates mounted on the stones, "I have left this for her, with the words of a song Lord Angadil wrote for her. That, this cairn, and this ceremony are my gift to her in rememberance even though I shall never forget her." His eyes drop to the ground and he steps back silent waiting for the next to speak.

Teigril looks down, her eyes going from the top to the bottom of the cairn.."I knew her least of those here, perhaps..yet I do remember.. a time she went with me..with several of us, for herbs.. " She pauses.. "She was quiet..but it was a lovely trip..and, the wedding..she glowed, as did Almar.. a happy memory for all who were there..Love such as that is rare.." She steps back.. moving a bit behind Andranar..

A group of people stand in a circle about a grassy mound in a copse of trees. Almar has just finished talking and setpped back and Teigril spoke a few words just now and is pulling back as well. Finnabair sits up in a tree watching the others from up high.

Andranar shakes his head. "Ever will I remember her as a huntress. May her memory be kept in song and tale of such things." He glances up towards where Finna sits in the tree, and purses his lips. "I have few words for this, and all have as many memories as I." He bows his head, holding his cloak closed with one hand.

Finnabair continues the long the journey up through the branches of the tree, eyes lifted upwards while still humming in tune with the stretch of each arm and the grasp of each hand to the next hold. The words of those below still drift up to reach her ears, and she smiles silently, pleased with the memories and thoughts they bring to her mind of the friend she knew. Careful that the pale silver ribbon fluttering between her fingers does not catch on the rough bark of the tree, she is half way to her goal when the Bearslayer finishes speaking.

Several cloaked figures emerge suddenly from amidst the dark pines which ring the grassy mound and those figures around it, moving slowly and wordlessly to approach this small gathering of edain. Hathaldir and two companions they are, cloaks dusty and garb worn from recent travels, great bows still strung and carried in hand. Pausing beside the rough trunk of one of the larger trees, the young man searches silently the faces of those gathered by the cairn, his own pale eyes clear, expressionless.

Standing beside the tree Finnabair climbs, Bregolas remains silent, stoic, still. The breeze pushes his hair back towards the bark of the tree; as his eyes and gaze remain on the cairn.

Almar listens to the others speak as he stands silent. When he hears no more voices he looks up again, "If all are finished I would speak once more." He looks about the circle to see if anyone else comes forth.

Teigril shifts her feet, feeling a soft rubbing at her ankles.. Tat, and Teig reaches down to gather her in her arms.. then quietly watches Almar..waiting his words.

Andranar gestures to Almar to speak. If he has else to add, he does not do so now.

Finnabair reaches the highest most branch able to bear her weight, and throws a leg on either side to perch upon it. Grey eyes look down through the reddening leaves of autumn and she sees those gathered together around the mound in vigil. A few figures join them from the pines, standing back and a smile breaks wide across her lips in recognition of the tall young man with them. Still humming her soft wordless tune, she reaches up to carefully tie the pale ribbon to a delicate sprig and knots it tightly to ensure it will remain. Looking upon it a moment, she leans both hands upon the branch she sits on and gazes downward to those below.

Hathaldir's gaze wanders slowly over those gathered, over the familiar faces of his fellow Beorians, as well as over those visitors of Dor-Lomin he recognizes. Both hands tighten about the smooth staff of his bow, white-knuckled over the darker, emerald green vines which decorate the weapon's grip. Looking directly towards Almar, he offers a slight shake of his head in reply and draws back against the tree's trunk, waiting for the smith's coming words.

Almar again hears no speaker and so begins, "I do thank you all for coming, and I am sure that Maegwyn thanks you as well. If any have some momento they wish to leave behind I will see it gets placed here about the cairn someplace safe." He stops choking slightly on his words swallowing hard before speaking more, "Her loss is a grievous one and she shall be missed dearly by those who knew her. again my thanks." He then stands tall and strait glancing to all who came, his face is very sad as he waits now.

Andranar steps forward, passing to Almar a small scrap of cloth. He says a few quiet words to the man, and then steps back a pace. "Himros left this behind the other night. It is an insignia of the Knights of Dor-lomin."

Silently still, Bregolas steps away from the tree, towards Almar. His steps are yet measured and careful; and, as he approaches, his fingers stray to a pouch at his belt.

Finnabair sits atop the high branch and leans down so she lies across it, folding her hands before her and resting her chin upon them as she continues to look down at the others, silent and apart, though sharing in their grief. The silver ribbon flaps quietly next to her, her silent marker for the soul gone and with a gentle look to Almar,she sighs, hesitating as her breath catches on the tune she hums.

Hathaldir's eyes are torn from Almar as the man speaks, turning to focus upon the flagstones which mark Maegwyn's resting place, and the engraved plates of metal upon them. Shoulders rising beneath the cloak in a deep sigh, the young man backs away as Andranar and Bregolas move towards the grieving blacksmith, his cloaked form passing through the trees and soon vanishing from the sight of those gathered.

Almar takes the cloth form Andranar with a nod of thanks, and a look as if asking what it is. Seeing Bregolas reach for something he stands ready to take the Lord's gift as well. Soon after Hathaldir leaves many of the others leave as well, only a few remain about the mound.

Untying the knot on the pouch quickly and easily, Bregolas draws from his belt a polished and carven chunk of wood. It is hard to make out a shape at the moment, as he holds it delicately between his hands; his path carries towards Almar, rather than the mound itself. Without a word, he offers the carven figurine to Almar -- the likeness of Maegwyn is surprisingly detailed.

Almar nods to Andranar's soft words and then takes the figurine from Bregolas. After looking at it he looks to Bregolas, "I will place this near the flagstones so all can see her now as well." He bows to them both in thanks.

Teigril stands now in the shadows of the trees, one hand moves gently over Tat's fur, as she watches the three below. Her eyes brim with tears..as Bregolas reveals the sculpture.. "Beautiful" she whispers..

Finnabair closes her eyes, rests her head on her hands and lets her mind drift backwards in time. The gentle breeze of mid autum growing with the heat of the day brushes her short curled strands of hair and moves like the thoughts and visions that chase each other in her mind.

Andranar nods, now silent again, though he communicates more than words can say thru his eyes. He steps back to the edge of the trees, raising a hand to rest agains a trunk. He stands there, watching..

Almar rolls up the cloth and moves to the flagstones. He slips the cloth between the flagstone and the cairn so that a little sticks out and then puts the figurine between the two flagstones. Backing away from the cairn he mutters, "I will miss you......", turns and walks back toward the fort. Turning as Almar leaves, Bregolas glances again towards the mound, turning himself towards the fort.

Teigril stands quite still in the shadows as Almar moves away, then comes to stand at the foot of the cairn, pausing a moment..her lips moving..but no sound carries. Then, she turns, looking for Andranar.."I think he is not wishing company, may I walk back with you?"

Andranar nods to both as they are leaving. "I will be along in a moment." He steps back to the side of the cairn, and says something over it, too softly for any else to hear. After a time he looks up again, and spots Teigril. He nods. "Aye. I have some things we would speak of, Almar and I, ere we leave. But now he needs be alone a while, I deem." He turns and gestures towards the path to the spring, and the fort beyond.