The Wake

Feast Hall
The double doors lead into the keep's feast hall, a great, high-roofed room, roughly rectangular in shape and brightly lit by rows of torches and a large stone hearth set into the chamber's northern wall. The flickering flames cast their warm glow upon several long, sturdy tables, as well as upon many comfortable and sturdy chairs arrayed all about the spacious hall.

Later evening. The hall is not busy now, though a few people gather within, singly or in small groups. The lights of the place have been dimmed, leaving the room in half shadow. A long table sits in the mid of the hall, where casks of ale and wine are set. In the back of the hall a thick curtain has been hung, partitioning that part away.

Andranar stands near the door, calm and easy, if solemn, giving a nod or a word of greeting to those who enter.

Teigril steps through the door, pausing to look about. The soft light making it hard to recognize folks, she stops first to speak to Andranar. "How many will remember her..I wonder?" She asks softly, She has been away from Rivil..though not away from Dorthonion..."

Angadil walks inside the hall with slow strides. At the threshold he pauses, nodding to Andranar "Evening, mellon" Then, he looks around to the others gathered around the memories of a common friend and procceeds further inwards. The only one from among the Firstborn to have come, he seems to be for now.

Andranar's shoulders move a little beneath his cloak. "The numbers do not matter, I think. It is enough that she is is remembered." He gestures to the further reaches of the hall, nodding to Angadil and Teigril, though he does not move from his place by the door yet.

Aresmar walks near the enterance and sees Andranar "evening, mellon" Than glances inside the huge room and as if entering a Palace he straighten his cape to look better than nods at Andranar. "I would like to share your pain mellon, shall I join you and learn more about her?" than glances at Angadil and Teigril.

Andranar smiles, if sadly, and gestures to the gathering group. "Of course, mellon. We would welcome your company this eve, I think." he says to Aresmar.

Angadil turns at the sound of Aresmar's voice, a faint smile creeping slowly to his features "Aresmar, mellon, it is true we share pain for the loss of a friend. Yet, I believe we also share memories of her prowess an her sweet kindness. You are welcome to share those too. Be, indeed, very welcome"

Teigril smiles, nodding at Angadil's words. "Please..come and talk with us..She was special, Maegwyn was.. There are many tales to tell..of her battles and of other things.."

Faint steps echo through the hall, as a lone, cloaked elf steps through the doors. He gazes about the room, eyes gathering the sight of the gathering. Taking a step forward, he throws his cloak back from over his chest.

Himros enters the feast hall in shadows, remaining in silence near the rear, knowing full well what this gathering is for. His spasms seem to be on the rise, and he twitches insessantly in the dark corners of the hall. He views silently, as quietly as possible.

A faint smile appears at Aresmar's face, he than nods his friends and says pursing his lips "thank you all, mellyn. I think I will prefer to listen more than talk tonight." and he walks a little further near Angadil and Teigril. he than turns to his back to face the enterance and sees two new figures entering...

Andranar nods to the elf, "Eve, Lomendaur. Welcome." he says simply, then gestures to where the others gather. "And you as well, Captain Himros." he says, perhaps a bit formally, but otherwise not unusual.

Lomendaur nods, silent in return, and takes slow strides toward the others present. He sighs, softly, to himself, and clasps his hands behind him. His eyes gaze around, still, taking in the feast hall.

Angadil bows slightly to the last two arrivals, but speaks only to his fellow Noldo and countryman as he moves across the room "Suilaid, Lord Lomendaur" he greets with an approving nod "Maegwyn always showed good disposition towards the Eldalie. It is good that not I alone comes to honor her memory..."

Teigril steps closer to Aresmar..and says quietly. "Magwyn was a scout..when first I met her.. " she looks about the room, "Most here would have known her then." She raises a hand in greeting to Lomendaur, a smile crossing her face as the two elves converse. She tilts her head, sorrow showing in her eyes as she sees Himros in the shadows..

Lomendaur nods in return to Angadil, before slowing in his steps and taking a short bow, one hand folded across his stomach. "And to you, also, Rochir Angadil." He smiles, faintly and weary, before standing tall once more. "I honor not her memory, but her being. She should live on, I think, inside us, rather than fading to something that once was. For is it not among us, as well, mellon?" He speaks softly, in a sad, lonely tone.

Himros is dressed in the royal garb of Dor-lomin, and a seal pronounces him Captain of the Knights of Dor-lomin. It is obvious by the creases it has not been worn in many years. He also wears a sheath and a two-handed sword at his side. Dressed as such, he appears regal and noble, but he slouches in the corners, skulking almost. "Mae Govannen and well met, Andranar."

Andranar nods, "Aye. Mae govannen, Knight. Though I would we shared greeting under other circumstances." He straightens his shoulders, looking towards the door, perhaps to see if any others are readily forthcoming, and then he steps deeper into the hall to join the others. "I am glad you all have come, if not glad for the reason for coming."

Aresmar stands near Teigril and speaks quietly to her in a sad tone "I think I am the only one not knowing her here." than looks in the shadows "And Himros is here we met before but he was behaving strange... I dont know his story though."

Angadil extends one arm, hand open and palm outwards; the other remains holding something that the grey cloak still hides. A gesture of one who has no answers "Would it was as you say, Lomendaur. But I fear that only Manwe upon Taniquetil or Namo in his Halls may know with certainty. Or maybe not even them." He shakes his head and turns to Andranar as he speaks.

Andranar steps to the long table, drawing a draught of wine which he drains almost immediately, and then another. This cup remains full in his hand as he returns. Taking a long breath, he glances towards Angadil, "The path of men after death lies beyond this world." He says only, almost hesitantly. He looks to Aresmar then, "She was a huntress, and a friend.." His tone drops, "Himros knew her better mayhap, than any here, and has more reason to grieve than any."

Teigril leans near Aresmar, "Himros..was pledged to her..tis a long story..and Almar.. I will tell you a bit more later.." She watches Andranar, her arms wrapped across her chest.. She looks a bit curious at Angadil..the cloak covering .. something..

Aresmar nods at the word of Teigril than glances at Angadil where the Teigril gazing at.

Himros clears his thought and begins suddenly, "Maegwyn was a beautiful, beautiful woman...any of you amongst us would have been lucky to have known her. There was such a spark of life in her, ever shining, never dying. I met her the first days we came to Dorthonion. She was strong of will, perhaps even stronger than I. She taught me things about life that I never knew...how to value another person, and how to despise evil. Alas, as you know, I fell in love with her, and I loved her for who she was to the world. This scout was more than just that...she was a leader of men, and a ground breaker for women, showing that not only men could take up weapons. She gave hope to me when I was down, and she provided inspiration for an entire country."

Lomendaur stands, silent, near Angadil. He rests his hands at his side, his expression in the slightest of grimaces, as Himros speaks. The Noldo averts his eyes, looking down at the floor before himself.

Andranar's brow creases a bit, as he sips from his cup, and then he say slowly to Angadil, "Our mad moonlit ride from Aeluin to Rivil seems a very long time ago, now."

Andranar leans towards Aresmar, and says something quietly to Aresmar. "Himros' tale is not important now, but know that he was a stalwart knight and a leader of men. You see him now as he once was."

Angadil throws his cloak back over his left shoulder and the elven fabric shimmers with and subtly changes hues under the Hall's light as willow-leaves may do under a gentle breeze. Thus the object he carried is discovered, a small lap harp, obviously of human-making that he sets on the table. He nods to Andranar "Aye, the Yrch were hot on our heels, but she never faltered..." The harp looks so: A lap or traveler's harp, shaped from a light colored and finely grained wood. The intrument's construction is simple, and not very ornamented, save for the neck which is carved in a subtle curl where it joins the pillar. The scent of new wood and polish still cling to the instrument.

Himros sings,

"And there she stood upon a hill, Looking down below, Swarms of blackened gruesome orcs, A strong and mighty foe. She held her spear high in air And swung it as she ran, Behind her came legions of men, All at her command. Over the darkness she swept her hand, Orcs fled and ran away, She brought sun and light and warmth, And darkness into day. Ne'er there was a greater soul Ne'er a greater love, Than the one she held for us For good to rise above."

Andranar nods, silent until the song is sung. Then he says quietly, "There was no doubt or faltering to her, and I do not think it ever came to her, even at the last." He shakes his head, "Do you remember our traveling to Anach?" He pauses, "I bound her wounds there, and again at Rivil. Would that I could bind them now. But she has passed beyond mortal hurt and harm, anon."

Aresmar nods at Andranars words than not wanting to interrupt the moment, listens to the songs.

Himros sighs and turns, his arm reaching across his stomach and his head leaning to the wall. His face cringes and tears drop as he scoots his way into the farthest corner of the hall, twitching, twitching, twitching.

Teigril's gaze follows the movements of Himros, she starts ..stepping in his direction, then shakes her head..and stands once more. "I think..his pain is more than a healer can help right now.." she says to herself, and her gaze goes back to the elves..studying the harp..and waiting..

Lomendaur allows a faint smile as the song is played, but gazes at Himros with some concern, as he walks off. Starting towards him, he restrains himself as Teigril speaks. With a slight nod, he sighs, and clears his throat, standing tall.

Andranar nods, saying very quietly to Teigril, "There is naught you can do, now.. He has lost much to the Void. But his strength has not yet left him." He glances towards Himros, giving the man an amiable nod, before he turns his gaze away, and back to the others.

Himros stands, and still facing the wall, mutters audibly, "I cannot let you go. I cannot. I will not let you go....who has taken her from me? They, he, shall pay the price." He moves quickly the the door, exiting. In the corner there lies the seal of the Knight Captain of Dor-lomin, ripped from it's place upon Himros's clothes.

Angadil nods to Teigril's words "And I suppose Almar, her husband is too deep in his mourning as well..." He shakes his head darkly and takes the harp back. Slowly he starts plucking the strings "This harp is your gift, Andranar. It is only fitting that I sing of Maegwyn with it" Then he starts singing and the elven voice and the music of the man-made instrument mix in melancholic tune were the sorrows of two kindreds of the Children of Iluvatar mix and seek healing:

"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."

As the music swells and the words follow ..Teigril's eyes fill with tears.. she reaches with the back of her hand to brush them away.. "I can feel the meaning..though I do not know the words..." her voice soft, she looks at Andranar.. "Angadil knew her well, I think.." and she looks at Aresmar "Not many adan..would have such honor.."

Aresmar sees the Himros in pain walks to the corner after he left the room. And says quietly to himself "I know your pain friend, I know..." Than bends and takes the seal that Himros teared from his clothes. He than returns where Andranar stands hearing the voice of Angadil singing. "I think you keep this seal for Himros?" he asks to Andranar.

Andranar nods to Angadil as he begins the song, and then stands silent, for well after the song has ended. "Well sung mellon." A myriad of emotions cross his face, and then he nods again, satisfied with whatever conclusion he has reached. Andranar now turns to Aresmar, and taking the seal, examines it. "Aye. That I will. My thanks, mellon." He then gestures to Teigril, "Lady, a moment?"

Teigril turns at Andranar's voice, "M'lord? I know little..to say, we met at Rivil..I have healed her many times. A brave warrior..and.." her words seem to fade.. she looks from Angadil to Andranar.."I feel a loss in the world..her passing has left a vacant space in this place.. one that will be long in filling.."

Angadil sets the harp back on the table, a light flickering in his eyes, and steps back towards the group of people. Once there, he listens with intense attention to the next words honoring Maegwyn the Scout.

Andranar nods. "No doubt you did. Maegwyn had a way of finding harm.. But it is not your skills a healer I need now." He holds out the insignia left by Himros, showing it to her. "Can you learn this pattern, so as to make another like it? It must be learned quickly, for I will not hold this long, I think."

Teigril looks at the embroidered patch.."It is not a difficult pattern, M'lord.."She looks up, a slight smile on her face.."I have it memorized as we stand..but I would draw it as well. To make one..I would need a day..perhaps two. How soon to you have need of it?" She reaches out to take the cloth, turning it in her hands, studying the stitches..and the design more closely.."Do we have such materials? I brought little but my healer's trunk..."

Lomendaur returns Angadil's gaze, and his eyes seem weary and aged. "Mellon...I have brought nothing to honor the departed. I do not feel right, being here without anything to honor the person Maegwyn was." He raises his hand to his eyes, casting his glance away.

Andranar shrugs, "Soon mahaps, but there is no great hurry, so long as you can copy the pattern. I am grateful, Lady." He returns the patch to a pouch at his belt, and returns his attention to rest of the group. He now raises his glass. "Song and tale, and a draught we will have for Maegwyn the Huntress this night." His voice is not loud, but the words carry in the quiet hall.

Aresmar reaches the nearby table takes a glass and fills it than returns to where everbody stand and rises his glass near Andranar and says in a quite but hearable voice "for Maegwyn!" looking at the high roof as if his eyes reaching outside and touching the stars above.

Angadil smiles to Lomendaur "You are here. You brought yourself. You are testimony that honor and worth among the Edain are noticed by more than just a few of the Firtsborn" He walks to the table and takes a glass as well that, silently, he raises.

Teigril takes a glass from a table nearby, raising it with Aresmar. Her eyes follow his..and it would seem the stars spread across the ceiling.. Aresmar than lowers his head and takes a sip after he said "and for whom we lost to evil." His eyes now watering. He closes them for noone to see his pain now.

Andranar steps closer to Lomendaur and Angadil. "It is enough, mellyn." He then nods to Angadil. "When I crafted the harp, I gave no thought that it might be used to play such tunes.." He shakes his head appologetically, "But you do honour by her, and her memory. I am glad you sang it."

Lomendaur sighs, brushing his fingers against dry, saddened eyes, and he stands tall. "Perhaps," he says, softly, after a moment. "But is that alright? Sometimes enough...is less than enough." He shakes his head, and turns away, walking to seclusion.

Teigril steps nearer to Lomendaur, "You brought your friendship, mellyn..what greater gift? She would have asked no more.." She pauses, "I..who knew her less, have no that comfort.." She takes a glass from a nearby table.. "If I had even a toast..but I have memories, I shall treasure.." her eyes grow soft..and she seems to be far away for a moment.."Memories..that I shall hold."

Andranar looks to Lomendaur, "It is enough." He repeats, "I for one am glad for your presence alone." His brow creases, "And you give a gift in your labours at the forge to finish the work that Almar began. Between the two kindreds.." He trails off, and shakes his head. "Aye, memories. And Maegwyns valor and prowess cannot be contested, and will be long recalled. But she was more than that. Do any have gentle memories they would share?" He looks over all in the hall in turn, though his gaze is not hard or piercing.

Lomendaur nods, clearing his throat slowly, a low sob uttered from his throat. "Perhaps," he states, whispering. "But I can do no more...tonight. Not without my own recollections, alone and peaceful. Forgive me." He begins toward the doors, but stops. "I believe Maegwyn was among the greatest of the edain I have met, of yet. But, some things I must keep to myself." Straining a faint smile, he turns towards the doors again, and walks out.

Angadil watches the other Noldo go "I have spoken already..." He says shaking his head "Her loss is sorely felt by both kindreds, that is clear now... And I shall take as a sign of hope. Indeed, as the greatest wonder I have found in Middle Earth"

Aresmar looks at his friends and says to noone in particular in a sad voice but trying to be merrier "Can anyone tell me the things Maegwyn achived to change this sad atmosphere if it is not wrong for now."

Andranar nods, and smiles faintly. "Of course. Go in peace, mellon." He says after the departing elf. He is then silent a few moments, contemplating his drink, before he speaks. "I would speak of such times then." He gives a slight nod to Aresmar, "The greatest think she achieved, perhaps, was to unite many with friendship and love, which is a true and lasting bond." He stops, as if gathering words..

Andranar, after a pause, draws a breath, and speaks, "Maegwyn was a stout shieldwoman. But I would speak of her in peace, brief and fleeting though it was in Dorthonion. Many memories of her do I have. Of hunting roe and bruin in the hills not far from here.. Many long hours did we converse by a fire in the wildlands.. Maegwyn was a fighter, true, but by need, not wish. She was a gentle person, and was ever eager to learn more, and see new things. Now she has gone on to another unknown trail..." His words die away, and he looks over the group for a moment before he turns awy to his drink. You paged Aresmar with 'S'ok. You didn't miss anything. I made the last two poses, and that's it.'.

Aresmar sighs "It is so bad to lose a gentle person, as well as a good fighter as you said. Will you tell me how this bad thing happen?"

The whole group follows Andranar's speech with a respectful silence, broken only by occasional murmurs of approval. When he finishes, Angadil speaks from the spot where he is, without stepping forth nor adressing anyone in particular "Many doubts besiege us in the face of happenings such us as this. But this hope the Eldar have: one day, after the end of Arda the Children of Iluvatar, both kindreds, will gather before the face of the One to join in the final and pefect music. That hope I would share with those here..."

Andranar looks away into the shadows, though he answers Aresmar quietly, "This is perhaps best not spoken of tonight. The whole tale I or another may recount another night.. Save say that hunter may become hunted." He says rather ominously, and then shakes his head. Looking to Angadil, though his words are addressed to no one or to all, he says, "We are all Eru's childern, and all are gathered to him, though each in their own time." He speaks gently, but surely.

Aresmar leans near Andranar and lower his head a little than says in a low voice that only he can hear "Oh Sorry, I don't want to raise the pain again. Let it be another night." Than raises his head to hear his friends converstaion again.

Andranar shakes his head, and answers in the same low tone that reaches few human ears. "You need make no apology, Aresmar. There is enough hurt and hate here tonight, without adding to it by speaking of such. I know not the full tale myself. That she died of violence should suffice for now." He pauses and smiles wearily, "There will be another time for tales." He looks about the room and the curtain at the back, and empties his wineglass. Looking to Aresmar and Angadil, he says, "I think I would walk in the cool night air a while." Then he steps towards the door, though he moves slowly.

"May I walk with you?" Answers Angadil, starting towards Andranar and the door. "Besides, I believe the night is almost gone and the dawn is coming... It will be good to go outside and receive it..."

Aresmar says, "I dont want to stay here alone either I want to feel the cool air. May I join you?"

Andranar nods. "I'd welcome your company. Always I do, but maybe more this night." He nods to Aresmar. "Aye, the dawn is almost upon us. Let us go." As the three pass thru the doors of the now almost empty hall, he leans towards the elf, and says something in a low tone and mixed with strange words.

Andranar whispers, in Mithrin, "It is my hope that this night has helped all who attended. I hope my words eased the sadness of the night, though there were many things left unsaid."" to Angadil.