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Autumn 9 Fourth Age 1430 Shire-reckoning 
the ashes of a black sleep scatter fell {{ WORDS on {{ HOWLING winds |
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| Cloak & Dagger [MP]; [ Berien & Lyda ] | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 7 2009, 03:13 AM (387 Views) | |
| Andrea | Jun 7 2009, 03:13 AM Post #1 |
Master Storyteller of Arda
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Continued from “Cloak & Dagger” Berien’s eyes scanned each drapery, following the needlework as the threads weaved in and out, crisscrossing one another in a crosshatch formation. She crept closer, hugging the wall as she walked along each tapestry. White horses leapt across many of the designs while bold, solid colors in the background framed their figures. She looked at them for a moment longer before turning to where the messenger had gone. The halls were barren and emptiness seemed to fill the entirety of the edifice. It made her a bit tense; she could not tell if it was an advantage or a disadvantage. She knew that without a proper escort, she would not be allowed into wherever Saruman’s possessions were being kept. But if the King and Queen were indeed not available at the moment, it could prove to be convenient for her if she played her cards right. She smoothed out her dress, one that was much fancier than uniform, but she supposed it had to be done… No scholar she ever saw appeared in commoner’s clothing—not important scholars, anyway. The Elf returned to the center of the halls, listening for the arrival of whoever was going to escort her. News, she finally decided, traveled slowly within the empty palace. She faced the entrance, fixated on the clear skies. She refused to get impatient, though when she finally heard the approaching footsteps, she had to mask her annoyed expression before turning to greet them. “Greetings. I am Nenwen, a scholar sent from Minas Tirith.” She spoke calmly, managing a small smile while dipping her head slightly in a polite bow. Her eyes scanned each face briefly before adding, “I trust you have been informed of my arrival?” Berien knew that the possibility was low that they received any message at all, but she knew that senseless prattle was part of life in court… something she admittedly struggled with. |
   " V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| frannibal | Jun 8 2009, 01:45 AM Post #2 |
the [rebel child]
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She had been reading when the messenger had passed by, and it was only by chance that she was given the message instead of the young lad going on straight to find Lothiriel or Eomer. As it were, Lyda knew that both were otherwise engaged and she had been given leave. So, thinking on best interests, she took the message with a soft smile and wandered back throughout the large, empty building towards their guest. She walked confidently through the walls, having learnt her way around the place in a few short months of being here, Lyda found herself able to walk and not get lost. Many times, in the dead of night, she had managed o leave her room and go to the gardens and get back again without getting lost within the maze of halls. Something she was always thankful for when she was sure she had reached her room. Hesitating a moment, breaking her thoughts to blink at her guest, the blonde girl took a moment to gather herself before she nodded. “Greetings, Nenwen, welcome to Edoras. I am Lyda, Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Lothiriel.” She inclined her head a moment and shook her head with a confused but apologetic look drawn across it. “I am afraid I have not been given any information other than your arrival.” She replied softly, glancing to the messenger and the guard nearby. “What brings you to Edoras, Nenwen?” A scholars was it? She had not met many scholars, at least, not in private. If you could call a messenger and guards private. “I shall try my best to accommodate you in any way I can.” |
 amrothos.esril.merrick.lyda.morion. | |
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| Andrea | Jun 9 2009, 04:43 AM Post #3 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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“I see,” Berien replied, though it was barely audible. She eyed the girl in front of her, judging her. She didn’t know what to make of Lyda at the moment, but she supposed it was better than having the King or Queen escort her. From her gestures, her tone, the Elf could only deduce that greeting guests was not something she did very often. Even though she may be inexperienced, Berien knew not to let her guard down so easily; she was aware that gentry knew more than they let on. Even commoners understood more than what the majority assumed… After all, she was one of them. “I have received word of the artifacts that have been retrieved from Orthanc,” she explained carefully. She had prepared herself for what she would say beforehand, and so the words came easily to her despite her standard use of disjointed responses. “I have been sent by King Elessar and wish to inspect them under your leave.” She paused momentarily to draw out a folded piece of parchment, stamped with the seal of the king, clear and distinct. She extended the item toward Lyda. “Within, you will find the basis of my being here.” Although meeting Dagoras had left her an ill impression, Berien knew she had no choice but to trust that he did his task well. She did not risk breaking the seal to read all of the note’s contents; she had to be content at raising it up to the sunlight and reading what she could… Even so, she was only able to discern only a few words. Nevertheless, the mortal was in a lofty position in terms of both King Elessar and her superior, and she trust he had the sense not to… jeopardize himself in any way. She gave a warm, comforting smile to maintain an air of both politeness and benevolence. “Thank you for your offer. Queen Lothíriel is fortunate to have a considerate and well-mannered woman at her side. I will answer all questions I am able to, provided you hold any misgivings.” |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| frannibal | Jun 21 2009, 02:17 AM Post #4 |
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the [rebel child]
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Lyda couldn’t help but blink a few times at the information that was given to her, it took her a few seconds of silence to think. She was sure she could grant th young woman before her access to what she required, but it was the question of whether this was what she was supposed to do or not came to mind. Taking the folded piece of parchment and unfolded it carefulled, reading over the words with focused blue eyes, her finders running over the ink and the seal, before she blinked once again and looked to Berien with a small smile. “…Of course” she spoke finally, glancing to the guards with a small smile. “I shall escort you to where you need to go, and be your guide…” She paused, hesitating a moment, glancing back down to the parchment before looking back up to Berien. “If I may, what exactly are you going to be inspecting these items for?” Her questions were timid, something she knew thy shouldn’t ‘t be, but also something she knew would develop in time. “Come…I shall escort you. We can talk on the way…” Tucking away the small piece of parchment, Lyda dismissed the guards with a small smile before heading off calmly in the direction she already knew the items to be in, as long as someone had not moved them, their visitor could inspect and leave without any problems. |
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amrothos.esril.merrick.lyda.morion. | |
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| Andrea | Jun 25 2009, 03:04 PM Post #5 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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Berien could only feel tense as she watched Lyda read the letter, but the girl’s cordial smile put her ill feelings at rest; she knew it had passed the test. Confident, but still weary, she straightened and proceeded to follow the young woman down the hall, giving a polite nod toward the dismissed guards. She was glad that they would be going alone; the soldiers would only complicate things, and complication was not something she wanted with an important task such as this. The Elf snapped out of her thoughts, now attentive to Lyda and her question. Now that she had come this far, it would be foolish to think of anything else. Berien believed the question to be nosy, but she understood that it was her who left freedom for such curiosity. She could only hope Lyda would not pry too much, and so she made sure the answer she gave was satisfactory (hopefully) while not revealing the conspiracy at hand. “The King is concerned,” she replied carefully, observing her surroundings as she walked. “It is of utmost importance that these artifacts do not fall into evil hands, and that none have the potential of harming others.” She turned to face Lyda. “You have heard of the dark rumors, yes? They are my reason for being here.” Berien began to say something else, but stopped herself short, believing that the explanation sounded suitable as it was. |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| frannibal | Jun 25 2009, 03:36 PM Post #6 |
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the [rebel child]
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Turning a corner with a small smile, Lyda felt her hands intertwining as she walked down the corridor, stepping nearer to the room she was leading Berien to. “Of course” she answered finally with a nod. “The dark rumours, I have seen quite a lot recently…I could understand why your King would be worried.” Frowning slightly at the memories of utter fear and chaos, Lyda let out a small shaky breath and forced a gentle smile on her face. “Here…” Reaching forth to test the door, frowning a moment before producing a small set of keys from her pocket and slipping one gently inside, turning it until the soft click was heard and she pushed it open with a small smile. “…let us see…” Taking a few cautious steps into the semi dark room, Lyda frowned before reaching to light the lamps within the room. “How long will you need? For your inspection of these items?” Falling silent after a moment, Lyda glanced around the room, not exactly sure what she was supposed to be looking for. “Do you know what these items look like?” |
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amrothos.esril.merrick.lyda.morion. | |
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| Andrea | Jun 27 2009, 12:15 PM Post #7 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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“Yes…” Berien replied absentmindedly to Lyda’s comment, her eyes focusing on the path in front of them. When they reached the door, she stood back politely, though she was eager to complete her task and be done with it. She watched the young woman closely, eventually coming to the conclusion that, if it was possible, it would be wise to rid herself of the girl’s presence. Lyda would hinder her; Berien couldn’t possibly search and entertain her questions at the same time. The door opened and then the darkness came as Berien entered, following her guide closely behind. She walked further out into the shadows of the room, her back to Lyda as her eyes scanned the room for what she came for. It was dim, save for a splash of sunlight that cascaded down from a gap in the corner of the room, shining light upon the stone flooring. As the lamps were lit, the natural light lost its brilliance, and the room glowed with a faint orange. Wooden tables were arranged in a neat, symmetrical fashion, making small aisles from the entryway and from the shelves lined up against the walls. Berien wandered over to a nearby table piled with irrelevant documents, neatly organized. Hearing Lyda’s questions, she turned to face her escort. The contours of the Elf’s face sharpened from the glow of the lamps, which brought a small flare of life to her usual dark, dead eyes. “That will depend,” she answered. “I, too, am unsure of what these items look like… Something that looks harmless may have qualities of the complete opposite.” It was a complete lie; she was here for one thing only. However, she needed a reason to gently prod Lyda out the door. She turned away, considering her next words, before facing Lyda again. “If I may suggest,” she accentuated slowly, “perhaps it may accommodate you more to go elsewhere as I examine these items.” She gave a small, pleasant smile of reassurance. “You have been kind in your hospitality thus far, but these are dangerous, and it would not rest well on my conscience to have you in harm’s way.” Edited by Andrea, Jun 27 2009, 03:04 PM.
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| frannibal | Jul 8 2009, 09:57 PM Post #8 |
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the [rebel child]
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Lyda watched her companion for a moment as she assessed piled up documents that littered the tables in an ordered fashion and wondered briefly whether it would be best for her to stay quiet from now on and observe, rather than keep asking questions. It was all part of the skills she had to acquire as a Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Lothiriel, and what better place to practice – for lack of a better word – than to accompany a guest throughout the halls of what she almost considered home, if only privately to herself. Nodding a little at the answer to her question, Lyda and most of Arda knew about the rule of appearances. Look at the ring, of all things, a simple gold ring that could have ended them all. Such a small thing to hold so much power, and the Hobbits also, they were not to be judged simply by appearance. They had survived so much, those who had travelled with the Fellowship, oh yes, Arda had learnt the lesson of judging things – be they living or not – by their appearances. Still, at the request of going elsewhere, the young girl blinked and smiled. “I could say the same for you. If you were to get hurt, and I did not know, I would feel like I have failed not only you, but my Queen as well. So. If you do not object terribly, I shall stay by the door. That way…if anything happens, I can go and get you help but if it doesn’t, I can still be out of harms way and your way as well” |
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amrothos.esril.merrick.lyda.morion. | |
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| Andrea | Jul 20 2009, 09:02 AM Post #9 |
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Master Storyteller of Arda
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The smile remained on Berien’s face, but in truth the Elf was feeling quite the opposite. Objection was on the tip of her tongue, yet she bit down on it and restrained herself. This situation was not worth toiling over; she would just have to overcome her obstacles as they came. “I do not object. Your words are truer than mine,” she replied, sweeping her gaze across the shelves. She proceeded to walk slowly by each one, her eyes scanning everything that they contained. Everything was organized well, but it didn’t mean that her task was going to be any easier. The Elf did this for a couple of minutes, stopping every now and then in her pace to pick up something, feigning interest in the object, before placing it back where she found it on the shelves. She would stop and look at the documents on the table, eyes scanning the words but not bothering to put it to memory. As the first wall of shelves passed with no sign of what she came for, she began to grow restless. What if the item was no longer there? She couldn’t go back empty-handed—that much was certain. She would look foolish, or even looked down by her associates. Nevertheless, she persisted, taking her time—still holding the possibility that Lyda would tire and wander elsewhere. A glint caught the corner of her eye. She bent down, peered closely at the bottom shelf. Tucked into a dark corner was an object a bit larger than the size of her hand, fingers spread out in all directions. Yes… this was it. How inconveniently it was put, too. It was only by the flare of the lamps that Berien was able to glimpse it at all. To unassuming eyes, it would seem like an ordinary dining plate or a forgotten antique. Carefully she extracted it from its place and held it up under the light, inspecting it. It was light, but felt fragile in her hands. The center gleamed silver and reflected nothing, though Berien had an inkling of its true purpose. The mirror itself was framed by gold, its shine lost with age. Intricate carvings began from the center only to spread out in all directions around the rim. Ancient runes blended themselves in with the carvings; they seemed to be a part of the design, yet they seemed to hold an arcane aura discoverable only by those who were there at its making. |
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" V a l i n o r . . . W h a t s h i p c a n b e a r m e h e n c e ? " " T h e w o r l d i s a b i g p l a c e a n d E r a i d o r i s o n e s u c h p a r t o f i t — t h e S h i r e b e i n g e v e n s m a l l e r . " " T h e p r o b l e m i s y o u t h i n k t o o m u c h a n d y o u t h i n k p e o p l e a c t u a l l y l i s t e n t o y o u . " g r a p h i c r e q u e s t s | |
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| frannibal | Aug 4 2009, 04:52 PM Post #10 |
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the [rebel child]
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Standing as she said outside the door patiently, only looking in every now and then to make sure nothing had happened without her knowing, Lyda couldn’t help but watch the elf look around the room. Even in such simple tasks, the elves held an extra something to them, a delicate was of moving their feet and hands, picking objects up and examining, it was all different to how a man would do things, or how a dwarf would. No one would usually notice such things, but Lyda spent most of her time watching others, and such differences were noticeable When she finally halted her search for more than a few minutes, Lyda inclined her head to the side and watched Berien for a few moments longer before her voice filtered through. “Have you found what you are looking for? Is that it?” It was a small voice that filtered through, one of caution yet filled with interest. The experience was new to her, and so the interest was a tad stronger than perhaps what it should be. Staying in the doorway, still unsure whether it was safe for her to step into the room or now, Lyda twined her fingertips together slowly in an act for nervousness. She did not wish to be a burden, but her duties and her curiosity were starting to get the better of her. |
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amrothos.esril.merrick.lyda.morion. | |
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Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
