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| 6 Fourth Age: Six Years of Peace; [ Open ] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 7 Sep 2008, 07:44 PM (1,138 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 7 Sep 2008, 07:44 PM Post #1 |
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The buzzing voices behind the thick stone door fell silent half a minute after the herald left King Elessar and Queen Arwen. In his loud, clear baritone, they were announced in long formal titles. Half a beat later, the King of Gondor and Arnor led the way through the opening stone doors and into Merethrond. It looked like half the kingdom had gathered for this, the sixth celebration of the downfall of Mordor. The Hall of Feasts was, at this moment, a sea of bowed heads that would not lift until the King and Queen took their seats at the long table on a high dais at the front of the hall. The finer details of the design were not noticed by Aragorn as he walked along the dais towards the two ornate center chairs. Arwen had done an impeccable job of arranging the feast, just as she always had done. It was the empty places that captured the King’s interests. His gray eyes found the place where Frodo Baggins had sat in the weeks following the destruction of Mordor, where Gandalf had sat puffing his pipe, and where Galadriel and Elrond had stood to watch the royal wedding. It all seemed too great a price. When Aragorn reached his place at the table, his face had formed into a stoic frown under the awesome responsibility of his friends’ legacies. His eyes, however, burned with the same fire as when he had accepted the winged crown of Gondor and been named Elessar by his people. The King sat, and the bowed heads throughout the hall raised a beat after. Aragorn said nothing yet. His speech would come in perhaps a quarter hour when the first course was ready to be served. He did, however, look over at his wife and take her hand in his. Soon enough, the conversation in the Hall began again. Floor to ceiling was filled with the beautiful cacophony of voices. Some minutes later, the minstrels began a slow, yet lively, tune very popular in Dol Amroth. |
| Deleted User | 7 Sep 2008, 08:23 PM Post #2 |
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Arwen had found her husband in the crowd. Well, rather she had been escorted towards her husband in time to go in. Even after about six years of this, it was still something that was rather different to her. And yet she would not trade it for anything in the world. Matching her husband step for step she entered the Hall at his side. So many people. . And yet, so many people admired him. . Looked up to him. . And Arwen herself was very proud of him. Proud that he had taken the path that had been laid out for him. It had been odd for her the first few years here. Saying goodbye to her father had been the hardest thing that she had ever had to do. Knowing that he was going somewhere that now, she could never follow. The people had been intrigued in the King’s choice for a bride and Arwen had garnered much curiosity amongst the people. And in time, acceptance of the beauty that had captured the heart of their King. The walk to the table seemed like it took years. But upon finally reaching it and being seated, Arwen looked around at the faces of the crowd. People that had survived through a dark time and now were seeing the light again. People that had lost much but had rebuilt and moved on. The race of men was truly amazing. Feeling her husband’s hand slip into hers, Arwen cast a glance over at him. So much was expected of him. . So much placed on his shoulders. With a slight squeeze of his hand she smiled. “They would be proud of you Estel, what you are doing. . What you have become.” |
| Deleted User | 8 Sep 2008, 02:17 PM Post #3 |
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Gwenneth had sat for awhile now, still taking in the beauty and the slight shock that her father and she were seated at the King's table. She'd had to fight off giggling like a little girl when Elessar had first insisted that they would and then again when they were walked there by the servant boy to their seats. It was far too surreal and eagerly Gwenneth sat, large blue eyes gobbling up all there was to see and attentive ears listening to the types of topics going on around her. From great political debates, to who was wearing what and dancing with whom tonight. Sadorannant on the other hand looked much the proud peacock, sitting with his feathers fanned out and his posture without flaw. He had never had the honor yet of dining at the King's table and the greedy part of him took all the credit. It was him after all that had got them there and not his conniving daughter Gwenneth. It was his own greatness and loyalty to the King that had finally landed Elessar's attention, not Gwenneth's. Which meant more than ever, Sadorannant kept his composure pristine and humble. His arrogance kept caged within himself while his features settled a little less harsh than normal and kept at bay the sour taste of disdain he felt toward's his daughters actions. Sadorannant knew, like any smart man would, to refuse the King was to insult and risk everything of value but that didn't mean there weren't other ways to keep Gwenneth reigned. It would afterall, be such a tragedy if she were to fall ill just in time for the King's trip. Deeming her unable to physically make the trek and regretfully refuse. 'How horrid', Sadorannant thought, and the wicked smile shot through his eyes like the hot flash of lightning while his lips remained tight, stiff and stoic. When the King arrived, Gwenneth's breath caught at the sight of Arwen at his side. Star struck with the elven queen's beauty, she let her eyes follow as a shadow would. Drifting along every movement Arwen made and how the dress she wore moved with her as if animated by the lady's essence of ethereal and prowess beauty. In respect everyone would first stand and then bow or curtsy to their Lord and Lady as the entered. Gwenneth was no different, and in fact had been one of the first to fall into a knee level curtsy and one of the very last to rise. She waited until they sat, the table sat and her father sat before Gwenneth re-settled herself in her chair as well. The music would start again slowly, a lazy simmer being brought to a boil that crescendoed in volume and tempo. During meals it was kept cool, refreshing and a light melody at the back of ones mind. Done for easy conversation and ambiance, later it would pick up and inspire toes to tap and fingers to drum on table tops until the itch to dance overcame most and the floor would be flooded with spinning damsel's and their gents that were always there to catch them. Gwenneth stared with a dreamy haze in her eyes at the currently empty dance floor - excluding the small children and dogs that scampered across it - and envisioned all the dancing and twirling about. A vision that shatted as a broken mirror hitting the ground when beside her, Sadorannant coughed to clear his throat and fetch his daughters attention. He saw the anticipation in her eyes and knew his daughter well enough to know she wanted to dance with men like some piece of filth wench would in a tavern. No, not his daughter, and the look he cast her said as much. |
| Deleted User | 8 Sep 2008, 11:29 PM Post #4 |
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Having grew up in the Halls of her Uncle, you would think that great parties and dancing and celebration would be in her blood. But the times had quickly grown dark, and there was only time for war, and for caring for her Uncle, King Theoden of Rohan. Even now to think about it, it brought a tear to the Princess of Ithilien’s eye. Gone were the days of her brother, cousin, and her playing through out the Golden Halls. The War had made sure of that. So much loss had been suffered. Her Cousin slain by orks. Her Uncle slain on the field of battle by the Witch King. But through all sadness there comes hope and joy. Her brother, Eomer was now King of the Mark. There was a King in Gondor again. And Eowyn herself had found the love that she thought elusive, marrying the Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor, Faramir. Eowyn sat at the table waiting, like everyone else, for the King and Queen to arrive. When they were announced, she stood with the rest of the guests, smile affixed to her face. Since seeing the Lord Aragorn in Edoras, feelings had sprung up within her. Ones that had been dashed away by his words. But that was all of the past now, as when she looked at him and Arwen, it seemed that so much love radiated off of them, that she was just happy to have her own husband to share something like that with. As they were seated again, her eyes wondered around the table. She was coming to know the names and the faces of the Court, but two people stood out. One of them she recognized, but the lady at his side she did not. Then again, it was known the kindness of the King through out the lands. |
| Deleted User | 9 Sep 2008, 03:01 AM Post #5 |
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Aragorn shared a lovingly smile with his wife. Her gentle grace gave him strength, and her use of his childhood name revived the hope he had been named for. He squeezed her hand subtly in appreciation of her presence next to him. The King took note of the lords and ladies around him. He was pleased to see Gwenneth at the table and even managed a brief nod in her father’s direction. Eowyn received a warm smile from him. She had suffered great losses and achieved mighty victories too. “Mae govannen, Eowyn. It has been many months since we’ve been in Emyn Arnen, but we will remedy that soon,” Aragorn said, speaking in the royal collective. It no longer felt strange to refer to himself in the plural. “How does the rebuilding in Ithilien progress?” For a moment, Aragorn was distracted by the children scampering across the dance floor. Their happiness reminded him of his own childhood days spent in Imladris. He had not known his destiny then. The halls of the Last Homely House contained nothing but joy for him. A true smile spread across the King’s mouth. “Have you met Gwenneth, daughter of Sadorannant, our Chamberlain?” He turned to the young woman a few places down from him and nodded once. As he had not met her before tonight, he would not assume others had. The chief usher appeared by the double doors and looked determinedly at the King until Aragorn caught his eye. It was time for the speech, and then the feast that would celebrate the sixth anniversary of peace in the West. OOC: Mae govannen = well met/welcome |
| Deleted User | 9 Sep 2008, 01:26 PM Post #6 |
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The hall was beautifully decorated when Haeleana and her mother entered the hall with several of the other women and men from the Dunedain tribe. She allowed her mother to guide her to her seat and as they sat Haelana looked around the hall. It was beautiful and Haeleana was echanted by the decorations. The sound of the doors opening and people rising all around her snapped her out of her daze. She stood with the rest as the King and Queen entered the hall. She smiled as she laid her eyes on the Elessar. There was something about him that made her confident in him being their King. Perhaps it was because he was once a Dunedain himself. She turned her attention on the Queen and couldn't help a smile. The ethereal beauty that surrounded Queen Arwen was enough to make her heart gladdened that not all the elves were gone. There was something comforting about Arwen's presence that made Haeleana very relaxed. She sat with the others again once the King and Queen had taken their place. She glanced around at all the guests and she recognised the Lady Eowyn amongst them. She couldn't help feeling a little self conscious about her own looks amongst these beautiful people. But she kept her chin up after all Dunedain weren't about beauty. She would live longer than many others anyway which was almost sad. She sat quietly and listened to her mother chatting to another Dunedain man. She was a little nervous and wasn't sure whether to make conversation or stay quiet. She smoothed out her long green gown of which the sleeves were soft and flowing. Her red hair was loose down her back in ringlets. She felt quite different here. She usually wore traditional practical Dunedain clothing so getting dressed up like this was unusual. |
| Deleted User | 9 Sep 2008, 05:21 PM Post #7 |
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It was almost dizzying, all the fresh and new faces that had come to celebrate. All the strangers that lived in Gondor and she had never seen. Was it actually this possible, that Gwenneth who had lived in Gondor all her life, felt more a stranger to it's people more than ever? Then, that was exactly how Sadorannant had wanted it, 'protected' he insisted from the masses. The Chamberlain nodded in respect to the King and Queen, then to Lady Eowyn as the King introduced Gwenneth for him. His daughter's charming smile spreading a little wider, as she too would take the moment to greet Eowyn. "Greetings to you, Lady of Ithilien." Apparently, despite never having looked upon Eowyn before, Gwenneth had recognized her name from her studies. And just as she had read the scribes detailed stories of Aragorn, Legolas and the fellowship had it been that Eowyn too had her own sections of bravery and heroism told. The shieldmaiden of Rohan had been both an epic and inspiring tale that Gwenneth had been relieved to find ended happily as the woman deserved. "and an honor to meet you, my lady." Sadorannant shifted in his seat beside Gwenneth. Watching her from the edge of his peripheral vision while more and more people seemed to appear. The Dunedain tribe had arrived also and he did what he could to address them with dignity and respect. A difficult task for a man who had now felt slighted by another of the Dunedain's women for just over twenty years. It didn't show however, on his features or in his eyes, though as according to his character he didn't smile in their direction but simply bowed his head. Uttering 'well mets' and 'greetings' in his low, baritone voice. |
| Deleted User | 9 Sep 2008, 06:35 PM Post #8 |
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Upon the greeting from the King, Eowyn bowed her head in his direction. "We would enjoy very much a visit, as it has been a long time." Though Eowyn was versed in the formalities and customs of Court, and how to speak in front of others, it was still a little odd doing it to a friend. Then again, the Lord Aragorn was deffinatly different. Had it not been for him, she would not be sitting here right now, but would have been lost to the darkness that she had slumbered in after the attack on the Witch King. "To my knowledge the rebuilding is going along as planned. I beg your pardon that I can not tell you more than that. For I have been in Edoras lately." She had been missing the open country of her birth, not to mention her brother. With the time of peace she had been able to garner a little visit. It almost seems as if Lord Aragorn had read her thoughts as he introduced her to the woman that she had been wondering who she was. "Greetings to you Lady Gwenneth. I do hope that you are enjoying the festivities. The Lady Arwen sure does know how to arrange a wonderful celebration." |
| Deleted User | 10 Sep 2008, 02:06 PM Post #9 |
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As the greetings around him were made, the chief usher gave a single nod to his King, which was the acknowledgement that the lower ushers had put the guests on alert and the butlers were ready to serve the feast. The King rose from his place and stood tall before his people. The winged crown of Gondor rested on his head, and in his hands he held the Sceptre of Annúminas. The hall fell silent around him and a thousand pairs of eyes gazed at their King. Elessar found sections of his people grouped together. The Swan Knights sat off to his right, and the foresters of Lebennin were clustered in the back. The farmers had come in from the wheat fields and the soldiers out of their barracks. All of Gondor had come, even more than the year before. Perhaps that was because of the rumors, whether they were believed or just a shocking reminder of what had happened such a short time ago. It was to the small group of tall, proud people directly in front of the dais that Elessar looked at the longest. He saw the familiar, hard faces of the Gray Company and the softer, yet equally proud expressions of the women. The Dunedain had gathered in the South, what few of them could be spared. These were his people. Not as a King to his subjects, but as a man to his family. They were the King’s House. He inclined his head slightly to them. “A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor,” the King began, repeating the words Arwen had spoken to him seven years ago. “A Shadow cannot cover a memory and a great legacy. While we gather in Merethrond and hail those who paid for our freedom with their lives, we shall be untouched by the darkness. Raise your cups and remember them.” Elessar held his golden chalice high. In the infinitesimal second, the faces of his departed friends flashed behind his eyes. Boromir and Halbarad, Hama and Theoden. The victorious dead, the Rohirrim called them. He also remembered those who were happier now, in a land so full of comfort all wounds could be healed. Frodo and Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel. He lowered the cup to his lips and drank in the rich red wine in their memory. When the King gained his seat again, the butlers appeared in the aisles carrying towering platters of food. Aragorn did not pay much attention to the feast. Arwen would have arranged everything perfectly. Instead, he took a moment to glance up and down the table at the people who had suffered the same loses he had and had likely hailed the same departed friends. Tonight was not one for solemn contemplation, nor would their friends wish it to become a second farewell. Aragorn smiled and relayed some news from his earlier conversation with Gwenneth. “I hope when I come to Emyn Arnen again that Pippin will be there to see Faramir. I’ve promised Lady Gwenneth a meeting with a Hobbit, and her father has kindly consented. In fact, let’s make it a royal occasion. The next time any Hobbit comes to Emyn Arnen, send a Messenger. We’ll all go meet with him then.” The King knew he shouldn’t be goading the Chamberlain, but after his display of unfriendliness in the Stone Courtyard, Aragorn could not help it. The presence of his wife, the King’s House, his friends, and his promise to honor the departed had propelled him into a good mood. “Olerion,” Aragorn called, beckoning to his servant boy. “Bring some of the King’s House to my table.” The King laughed openly as the adolescent boy walked straight over to a beautiful red-haired Dunedain woman and motioned to the King’s table on the dais. Several others from the Gray Company were invited as well. OOC Translation: A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor = The Shadow does not hold sway (yet). |
| Deleted User | 10 Sep 2008, 02:34 PM Post #10 |
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Haeleana felt tears rise up in her as the King made his speech. Her own father had been slain by orcs. She raised her glass as he did and felt her mother squeeze her hand as she did the same. Everyone had lost someone in the War and Haeleana definitely felt it was right to honour them in this way. As the court raised their goblets she did the same and drank from it. She turned around to look at the hall as she caught the eye of the man known as Sadorannant. She noticed his small nod of the head towards the Dunedain and she nodded back glancing back at her own people. She smiled feeling proud to be one of the Dunedain. Haeleana was very surprised when an adolescant boy approached her and motioned towards the King's table. She blinked in surprise and she stood up gracefully and followed him towards the King's table. She smiled as she approached and she curtsied low to the King. "My Lord" she said gently before raising her head to look at him. |
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