Corsairs and Corsets RPG

[alaklondewen]

Pelien stared at her daughter’s back anticipating the reaction she would receive. Would Adrama scream at her mother and storm out of room, or would she break down spilling the tears that were already in her eyes? Pelien was unsure, but she knew that she could not stall any longer.

“Last night…” Pelien paused trying to form her thoughts into words. “Last night I spoke with Denethor and Finduilas.” Adrama turned slowly to face her mother with an expression rich with anxiety. “I let the Princess know I knew about her…ancestral lines. I couldn’t listen to the talk anymore and think of what she was getting away with. I expected Denethor to be disgusted with her once he knew the truth, and it wouldn’t be long until he tossed her out where she belongs.”

“And what exactly did happen, Mother?” Adrama’s eyes widened a bit as she pulled her breakfast chair out and dropped into it, but she was already calmer than Pelien had expected. Maybe she was just in shock.

Pelien solemnly told Adrama every detail of the exchange with Denethor. She did, however, leave out the personal words from Finduilas about Pelien’s resemblance to her own mother. The feelings that conversation invoked still needed to be kept close. When she’d finished her confession, Pelien took a deep breath and searched her daughter’s face for some sign of her inner thoughts. However, Adrama sat for a long moment looking at her intertwined fingers on the table without saying a word.

[ September 13, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Nurumaiel]

There was a long silence, in which no noise disturbed the picture that anyone who had entered the room would have seen. Adrama's face was drained of all color, and she sat stiff and erect, staring off into nothing, her eyes filled with emptiness, and no emotion on her face. Pelien was also silent, and she looked nervous. Perhaps she was afraid her daughter had despaired and would do something terrible now that she had nothing to live for. Or perhaps she thought her daughter would fight back with more strength than ever, even abducting Finduilas. The idea was absurd, Pelien realized at once, but what was Adrama thinking? Her face and her eyes showed absolutely nothing.

Minutes passed. At last a deep sigh escaped from Adrama's lips, and she leaned back, her hands resting casually on the arms of the chair, looking her mother evenly in the eye. There was no frustration, no sorrow, no anger in her any longer. She suddenly seemed very weary, and much older than her twenty-six years. And she was so calm...... Well, no doubt she'd go to her room later and have a good cry when the emotions really came to her.She did not speak for awhile, but Pelien felt relief, for her daughter's attitude did not signify that she was going to do something rash.

"Well....." Adrama murmured, and then fell silent again. This time, however, only a few seconds passed before she spoke again. She said just a few words, with such simplicity and tiredness that she could have convinced most anyone of the truth in her words. "It's over, then."

Pelien opened her mouth to speak against that, but before she could Adrama sat up abruptly and slammed her hand down into the table. Suddenly her feelings were back, all her emotions. "No, Mother!" she cried. "It's over, and nothing can be said to the contrary. Does this not clearly say that Denethor loves Finduilas above anything, and he will never turn from her? It's hopeless. I love him still, but I give up the fight now. It is no longer any of my business. I will not interfer in their love for each other." Her anger slowly seeped away, and then she appeared quite calm.

"Adrama, please do not give up hope. You believe that they love each other? Perhaps, just perhaps it is an illusion, and soon they will realize they do not love each other."

The young woman smiled sadly and shook her head. "Mother, they love each other, else Denethor would have given in easily to the rumors, delighted with the opportunity of getting rid the of the girl he thought he loved. No, even if these ghastly rumors about her were true, I believe Denethor would still love her." She stood up and leaned against the wall by the window, letting a breeze blow over her pale face. "I'm sorry it didn't work, Mother. I know how much you love me. How you tried to bring the two of us together, and all for nothing. But if you truely love me, Mother, then you, like I, will give it up. Further pursuit of the matter will only bring disgrace upon our family. Do you remember when I did not care of our family's reputation? I do now, but still not as much as you would like. I would fight for Denethor and ruin our reputation, but I give up not only because it is hopeless, but because I love you. Can't you return what I do for you?"

Pelien was completely silent, but then she stood and placed her arms around her daughter, hugging her closely. "I love you, Adrama," she said, "and I will no longer act in any way to bring Denethor from Finduilas. I will not say anything, I will not do anything... I leave the outcome to Fate. But, daughter, as long as I live I will never say anything is hopeless. I believe there is always hope. And so, though I do not do anything out of love for you, I will continue to hope until it really is over."

And then a light came to Adrama's face, and hope flooded her. She returned her mother's embrace with such feeling that Pelien began to wonder if something were not the matter with her daughter. Adrama laughed and turned to the window, looking out with such peace and joy that she could never describe it afterwards. "Mother, oh dear, dear Mother, please, do not hope, for even if Denethor were to break his engagement to Finduilas, I would still not marry him. I have realized the truth." And then she laughed again, but slowly her face sobered and she shook her head. "Perhaps I am just imagining things. Oh, how quickly the heart of a human does change! I must think about it, Mother, and then I later I shall tell you the decision I come to, perhaps after the matter is settled."

And then, kissing her mother on the cheek, she called for some breakfast. Pelien was confused when Adrama left the room with an empty place. If her daughter had such a great appetite, she couldn't be sorrowing. What had come over her?

Adrama herself wasn't sure, but she felt like singing and dancing. At last everything had been made clear to her, and nothing was being hidden. Why did she not weep when she thought of how her hopes of wedding Denethor were over? And why did she suddenly think of...... here she discontinued her thoughts on that matter. She'd have to think about it first, she'd have to speak to him, she'd have to see if it was really a possibility or if she was just going crazy over her loss. But it was so clear, so clear... all her feelings were finally being revealed to her. Why had she not seen them before?

You didn't want to see them, you foolish woman, Adrama thought, stepping outside. You knew all along what was in your heart, but you ignored it because it seemed so impossible. And now, even when they're clear, they still seem impossible. Why do I not sorrow when I have been told that I have lost Denethor? Why do I instead laugh and feel joyous? Dizziness swept over her and she placed her hand against the wall of the house to steady herself. And then, suddenly, she realized. Even though her feelings for Denethor were seeping slowly out of her, she had once loved him so very much and now she had lost him. What had she been thinking before? She loved Denethor and he was gone.

A little sob burst from her and the tears came swiftly to her eyes. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, trying to keep herself under control. After all, she was standing outside where everyone would be able to see her. And she felt far too dizzy to go back inside to her room. No, she'd just have to keep her emotions in check, even if it was hard. She wept inwardly, but on the outside only one tear managed to escape her eye, and she kept her face well shielded to those who were at a distance.

But what of those who were standing close by? Adrama was suddenly aware of someone standing in front of her, watching her, so she turned away, murmuring a barely audible greeting. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and drop away again, and the familiar voice of Addruran ask, "Are you all right, Adrama?" There was concern in his voice, so much that she actually felt sorry for him. Turning, she put on her brightest smile and denied that she was feeling unwell.

"Very well, then," said Addruran, accepting her word, though there was suspicision in his voice. "I came to see how you and your family are doing, and to speak with you."

"No, no, Addruran, not now. I lied. I am feeling terrible. I'm so confused..... Can I talk to you later? Alone, please. No one can hear. I need someone to talk to. I desperately need someone to talk to."

"Of course," he replied, and need it be said that some hope was reborn in him when he heard her words. "Anything."

"Now I had better go back in. Mother isn't in the best of moods, I fear, and she not might like me speaking with you." Adrama said this without any fear of startling Addruran, for he knew quite well that Pelien didn't approve of him stopping by all the time. Adrama grabbed his hand and squeezed it, then, after a brief smile, disappeared into the house, hoping that her mother hadn't seen them speaking or, even worse, heard what had been said.

[ September 14, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eckthelion leaned back in his chair fingering a small stack of letters that had been set down on a tray in front of him. He owed a debt of gratitude to Diorwyn, a debt that he would not forget when she left Minas Tirith to return to her home in Dol Amroth. It was not only that she had responded to him politely and promptly, but the notes he'd received were exactly what he'd hoped for. Vieana, Averyll, and Eleniel.... His personal agents had done a bit of digging to ferret out the details on each of the women who'd replied. And the background of the women, their personalities and loyalties, seemed to be the precise match for the job.

The Steward hunched over his desk and carefully set his quill to the sheet of blank vellum that lay before him on the desk. After several moments of writing, he stopped to reread the message before folding the sheet over and applying his personal seal.

Ladies Vieana, Averyll, and Eleniel,

My personal greetings to you and yours.

It was with keen interest that I received your recent messages regarding the matter that Diorwyn and I had previously discussed.

As Diorwyn explained to you, I strongly suspect that one or more members of my immediate entourage are intercepting dispatches in order to gain access to information that would normally not be available to them. This highly sensitive material is likely being forwarded to the authorities in Umbar.

Since the dispatches are handled solely by my personal guards in Minas Tirith, I consider it most likely that the particular person involved is stationed at the nearby garrison. I would enlist your help to uncover the identity of this individual.

Your task will be to gather information--this and nothing more. Use your eyes and existing contacts, asking subtle questions to uncover details that are not readily apparent to the casual eye. You are to convey all information gathered directly to me. Even if you find that a particular guard looks to be at fault, you are not to approach him at this time.

Rather, I have a later strategy in mind that will help us identify who is actually innocent and guilty. More importantly, this ploy may aid us in publicly identifying the persons at the top of the chain who are employing and manipulating these lesser agents.

My own men have been able to do some preliminary leg work. We know that a confidential message was sent directly from Gandalf to me, and that it definitely arrived at the garrison four days ago. It should have been immediately sorted and sent on to my attention. That did not happen. The dispatch appeared on my desk only the morning after the masquerade.

We need to identify every person who handled that dispatch in the interim. There are no written records of these assignments and the commanders themselves do not keep track of such a 'routine' task, a deficiency that we will remedy in the near future. Only the guards are likely to notice, but will account it a matter of little importance whether one person does the chore or another.

If I was to begin asking questions, the entire garrison would be immediately aware that something was very wrong. We simply cannot tip our hand to Umbar's agents in this manner. Therefore, we must proceed with secrecy. It is far more acceptable to have a young woman ask innocent questions, perhaps under the guise of helping track down a guard who's caught her friend's fancy.

First, Averyll....Could you make discreet inquiries as to the identify of the guard who rode down to the Anduin and met the small, swift vessel that brings in the dispatches from lands to the south? This ship would have docked four days prior to the masquerade. The dispatch that was diverted was definitely delivered at that time. Give me as much information as you can -- the solider's name, physical description, from what city he ostensibly hails, and whether his fellows have noticed any strange behavior on his part.

Eleniel....In the same manner, you are to find out who was the guard responsible for sorting the dispatches that same day, once they arrived in the garrison.

And lastly, Vieana, you are to find out which guard delivered the dispatches to my office the morning after the masquerade.

One of these three is surely a spy....possibly all of them. We know there was tampering going on at this point. But if you find out their names, I will be able to discover who the guilty party is.

I wish you success in your endeavors and beg you to carry out your tasks with caution and secrecy.

Gondor is forever in your debt.

Eckthelion
Steward of Gondor

The Steward wrote out two identical copies of the letter. He could not risk entrusting the task to a scribe, since he yet had no idea who was loyal and who was not. It was this fact, as much as any other, that had forced him to turn to the women of Dol Amroth for aid. At least he could be fairly certain that they were not part of the court cabal that was loyal to Umbar.

He read over the dispatch one final time to make sure that it said exactly what he wanted and then called his personal manservant into the room, telling him to deliver the messages as quickly as he could without stopping to talk to anyone.

[ September 12, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Elora]

Ruiel held her daughter against her, pleased at Dryea's return to her senses and somewhat surprised all the same. When they parted, Ruiel held Dryea at arms length, a hand on each shoulder. She was wearing the mourning colours and that ring. Perhaps the change of heart was not all that it seemed, perhaps not. Dryea bore her mother's inspection silently, seemingly complacently.
Ruiel smiled in satisfaction and released her.

"Umbar is blessed to have daughters such as you, Dryea Morthaniawen." Ruiel turned and walked back to where a group of chairs sat around the hearth. She left the expectation that Dryea would follow behind her. Obedient, Dryea was seated soon after her mother.

"Have you eaten," Ruiel inquired. Dryea shook her head. Yes, the grief was deep. Still, that could be used. Ruiel passed her daughter a delicate china plate and then a platter of fruits.

"You will need your strength." Dryea looked at the food unconvinced and then dutifully took a spray of plump, sweet grapes from the platter. It went as far as her china plate and there remained untouched, and raised her pale face to meet her mother's speculative and considering gaze. Blue eyes turned with cunning thoughts were alight by the hearth that morning.

"You wished to speak with me, mother," Dryea prompted, wishing only to loose herself in service and feel nothing else. Ruiel nodded, as though she had agreed with herself and began.

"Word has reached me that you and Alethea had a disagreement last night..." Dryea leant back in her chair, eyes closing. "If word has reached me, then it will also have found other ears. I have not yet heard what words you exchanged..." Dryea opened her eyes and mouth to interceded but Ruiel held up her hand to forestall any word.

"And I will not ask for them," Dryea blinked in apparent surprise at her mother's uncustomary leniancy. "Disappointing? Yes... and I will speak to Alethea also this morning. Irreparable? I do not think so." Dryea watched her mother smile dangerously and then take a sip of the Khandese coffee from the nearby cup with a sinking heart. She barely recalled what she had said, but none of it was good for others to hear.

"This morning's tragedy could be our redemption." Succinctly, Ruiel went on to outline how Dryea would play the very public role of grieving betrothed. The news of the engagement had spread like wildfire. The more grief stricken and fragile she was, the more latitude would they be accorded. For example, who now would question Dryea closely over the disasterous bickering with Alethea now that Dryea was garbed in the melancholoy of death's pain.

The fact that Dryea was genuinely grieved, shadows of pain in her eyes, only made the cover all the more stronger.

"Weep delicately, faint even if you think it is necessary, but allow noone the chance to question you closely about matters of state, the Steward or your relationship with Alethea." Ruiel was clearly pleased with how it was all coming together. Rhir had been a millstone in life, but in death was a boon beyond all value.

"But what of Alethea?" Dryea's voice was faint. Yes, she'd do well as grieving widow... young love taken so soon in it's nadir of beauty... so unjustly... Few could withstand the depth of blackness of such grief long enough to extract the possibly damaging answers to uncomfortable questions. Furthermore, it offered an opportunity to plant more dissention under the cover of bereavement for those who briefly stopped by to pass on their condolences.

"I will ensure Alethea understands her part in this, daughter. Mark my words." There was an iron in her voice and face then. It was clear in that moment why Ruiel Morthaniawen had risen so far from such humble beginnings. Ruiel then rose and crossed to ring the taper and summon Rannë.

The maid appeared with alacrity, shooting a concerned and compassionate glance to where Dryea sat with her head bowed.

"Have the house adorned with the mourning swathes. Staff are to wear the black and ensure that all are ready to receive any guests. Have flowers arranged for the reception room and throw the gates open."

Rannë nodded as Ruiel fired instructions at her. Black taffeta swathes had to be installed on the front gates and the facade of the manor. Arm bands had to be found for the staff. Flowers had to be ordered from the flower merchants.

"And rouse Alethea and send her to me immediately! Inform me of any arrivals Rannë, any!"

Rannë curtsied and beat a hasty departure from her mistress, who seemed possessed by a strange energy. Ruiel turned back to where Dryea sat by the hearth.

"You will need your strength, daughter. Eat," she urged. Dryea mechanically plucked a grape between two fingers as Ruiel turned back to the larger arrangements.

"This will do more for us than anything I could have contrived. You have done Umbar proud, Dryea, and your mother."

[Everdawn]

Vieana's eyes widened as she read hte letter over Averyll's shoulder. "The Steward!" she exclaimed. "Things are worse than we thought..." she paused thinking, it seemed that there had been developments since her meeting with the guards the night before.

"Well, it is our duty as true Dol Amroth women to do what we can, and if the steward himself asks it of us, well... Imagine how proud Dardanir will be of me." Vieana exclaimed. I guess that will mean Averyll will have a nice trip today and see the sights, as will you Elen." she spoke whilst rushing across the room for her shawl.

"I on the other hand have some work at the barracks to do." It had been a long time since Vieana had been filled with such feeling of responsibility, now she would have her chance ot proove what Dol Amroth women were made of and do her military family in Dol Amroth proud. "Goodday to you all" Vieana said stepping out the door, her light blue skirts flowing lightly in the breeze.

It was not a long way to the Barracks, and Vieana was not short of guards pointing her the right way.I think it best to rule out any involvement by our men, we have had dealings with Umbar in the past. Yes i think it the best course of action. "How can i help you m'lady" a stout guard asked her when she reached the gates.

"Oh! I was just wondering if i could speak with the Dol Amroth guards of Finduilas please" she asked sweetly. "Im sure they are in, allow me to escort you there" The guard answered. As they walked he asked her many questions, and seemed nice. Vieana suspected her harsh judgement of the guards was wrong. "Here we are Lady, i hope you find what you are after." he said as they faced a large white marble building.

Some of the familliar guards came out to meet her. "Thankyou Inanilon" she said as one of the guards sat her down and offered her tea which she took greatfully, the guard fetched Naian, their commander. "Lady Vieana, how may i be of service?" he asked his face was concearned.
I musnt give away too muchshe thought to herself.

"Naian, i want you to tell me truthfully, have you or any of them men come into contact with any messages, anytime we have been here?" Vieana turned her grey stare on the guard. "No lady, none at all. I can tell you where all the men have been all this time. Why do you ask?"

"Its just that... well, i was expecting a letter from my husband. Yes, thats all, Dardanir thought that he was going to be posted here right away. The general was going to post him to Finduilas' guard." Vieana was breathing heavily.

"Are you sure you are allright mistress?" Naian asked. "Yes Naian, I dont doubt your word, you are loyal to Dardanir, and i have grown to expect the same. Thankyou" Vieana was relieved, Naian had bought her story. "Is there anyhting else Lady Vieana?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, could you take me to the men who handle all of the messages?"

"I would be glad to run your errand Lady, if it would save you trouble, you dont want to be among these men." Naian said walking her in the street to the sorting house. "No sir, this is somehting i have to do myself" she laughed. "My lord is indeed fortunate to have such a lady in his keep" Naian smirked. "YOu never rest until a task is done do you?" he asked stopping at the door.

"Never" Vieana answered stepping inside. The sight that met her was that of a normal sorting house anywhere to be seen, but the crest of Gondor shone on the marble floor. Her footsteps echoed in the rooms as she walked up to the main desk. Turn on your charm Vieana, sweet as a lamb, elusive as the next man or Umbar agent.she spoke in her head.

"Miss?" another Minas Tirith guard answered upon seeing her. "Yes sir, why i was just wondering where i may speak with the man who is in charge of this fine facility?" That was a little too sweet she thought and smiled He should fall like a swatted fly. "Yes Miss, i will get him."

A few minutes later she was lead inot another large room down the hall where one man sat and several others were standing. "Greetings, my name is Brígon, i was informed you wish to speak with me?" he asked, his voice was hard with a hint of contempt.

"Yes, i am Mrs Captain Dardanir the high guard of Dol Amroth, daughter in law of the Dol Amroth general, my name is Lady Vieana." At once one of the standing guards began to whisper to another who then disappeared from the room. Well, that is indeed strange... "And what can we do for the Lady of such standing." He was holding something back, why such an attitude towards her? Vieana clenched her jaw and held her head up high.

"I was just thinking how i had not heard from my city, i was expecting a letter. I was told it would arrive four days ago, i recieved it yesterday." she lied.

"I can assure you that any message for the DOl Amroths would have been taken to their house by the Dol Amroth guards." Brígon spoke smugly. "You do not believe me, you may speak with the man who handles the dispatches, speaking of whom has just arrived. I will leave you, i assure you i have other business ot attend to, goodday."

Vieana was left with a sandy haired man, who spoke deeply. "If i can be of help in any way?"
"Do you know who delivered the important messages yesterday, to anyone, i mean, Lady Tessa? Lady Finduilas? the Steward even, i am ever so troubled that my lettera are caught up and landed some other place." Vieana smiled.

"I do seem to remember that it was one of the newer guards, so new infact i dont even know his name, dark haired man, young... I just cant seem to remember... If you like i can get someone to take you to find him."

"That is quite allright." Vieana said quickly, gathering up her shawl and parisol. "I will have to accept that my husband has trouble with addresses, thankyou you have been ever so helpful."

Vieana was the first one home that afternoon. Lessawen left her some tea and writing materials. So it was a dark haired young man, a new man, and the other two guards at the sorting house... strange.. the thoughts tarried in her mind as she wrote her message to the steward.

My lord
As you instructed to us this day, I have been out among your men and mine at the barracks. During my time there i gained information that none of the Dol Amroth guards are responsible, their captain informed me so and those men are loyal to me and my house. I fabricated a story about my messages being fowarded late and insisted in speaking to the man in charge of the sorting house, Brígon. He seemd very hostile to me when i was there. As soon as i mentioned who i was, two men who were also there whispered something and then were gone. I do not like to speculate what it was about.

I also spoke to the man who was incharge of the dispatches, and he said that the letters to the noble houses that day were handled by a young, dark haired man who he did not know his name. I hope that i have been of some use to your cause, and I am happy to be in the service of Gondor.

Lady Vieana

Vieana handed the letter sealed to Lessawen. "Do not let this out of your sight, you have been my maid since i was a girl, since you were a girl, i hope that you are as loyal to me as i am to you. This is not to be seen by anyone but the Steward, take it to him, do you understand?"
Lessawen bowed and went on her way to deliver the message.

[ September 13, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[Ealasaide]

After Vieana had left for the barracks and Elen had gone back to her room to change for her outing, Averyll reread the steward’s letter one last time before folding it and carefully stowing it a hidden pocket inside the lining of her dress. It would not do to leave such a letter lying about for anyone to find. She would burn it later.

Obviously, Eckthelion had done his homework, sending Vieana, the wife of a captain of the guards to the barracks and herself, the widow of a navy officer to the docks. She smiled. She still had many friends among the Dol Amroth naval officers. She knew a Captain Parris who made the run from Dol Amroth across the Bay of Belfalas and up the Anduin to Minas Tirith every several weeks, carrying mail and dispatches between the two cities. If she remembered correctly, his ship would already be in port and no doubt preparing for the return trip. She hurried to her rooms to dress for the outing with a fresh spring in her step, marveling at how a disastrous yesterday could turn so quickly to a hope-filled and exciting today. She knew what she must do for the steward and Finduilas and was determined that she would carry it through with absolute caution and prudence. But she could also have a little fun while she was about it.

Having changed quickly into a new dress of pale green brocade, she tied on her hat and got quickly underway. The steward had already arranged a horse and an escort of guards to take her beyond the walls of the city to the banks of the Anduin. Arriving at the docks, Averyll dismounted and left her horse in the care of one of the guards, while the other accompanied her in the direction of the ships. Even from a distance, she could distinguish the sleek lines of Parris’ ship. While she knew she owed her escort no explanation, she decided it would be wise to make light conversation as they went.

Smiling merrily, she pointed to the tall masts of Parris’ ship. “That’s the Sea Witch,” she explained. “My husband captained her sister ship, the Enchantress. I feel like I know her like the back of my hand, though I’ve been aboard the Sea Witch but once.”

The guard, a fair-haired young man of rather plain countenance but pleasant demeanor, nodded politely. “I’ve never been to sea,” he said in answer, his eyes never straying from the tall masts and elegant lines of the sea-going vessel. “She looks fast.”

“Fast enough to outrun the swiftest of the Corsairs’ ships,” Averyll explained proudly. Before the birth of her son, Averyll had sailed with her husband on the occasion run and remembered well the thrill of running at full sail before the wind, her hair whipping her face, deaf to everything but the sharp snap of the canvas sails and the crash of the waves beneath the Enchantress’ prow. Those were the few memories of her marriage that she truly cherished. She tried not to think about how the Enchantress had eventually run afoul of a nasty squall and perished with all hands, bringing Averyll’s up-to-then pleasant life to an abrupt and eye-opening change. She said nothing of this to the guard.

As they approached the berth of the Sea Witch, Averyll was delighted to see Parris himself standing on deck overseeing the stowing of supplies for the return voyage to Dol Amroth. She waved up at him. At first not believing his eyes, Parris did a quick double-take. Then a broad smile spread across his weathered features.

“Lady Averyll!” he called over the side to her. “You’re a long way from home! Either that or I’ve been at sea too long and am having a very pleasant hallucination. Whichever it is, come aboard!”

She happily accepted his invitation and, assisted by the young guard, climbed aboard.

“Captain Parris!” she said extending her hand.

“Lady Averyll!” he responded and, taking her hand in his, kissed it. “What brings you to Minas Tirith of all places?”

“Hadn’t you heard?” she replied with a reproachful smile. “I’ve accompanied Lady Finduilas here as one of her ladies-in-waiting. I don’t know how long I will be here… at least through the wedding. After that, I’m not sure.”

From there, the conversation drifted to news and gossip from home and the sea, with Parris doing most of the talking and Averyll, an eager and willing audience. She missed Dol Amroth and the ocean deeply, and her three year old son most of all. Parris, unfortunately, had not been in contact with her in-laws and had no news of her son. Averyll hid her deep disappointment, but decided to use the subject as an opening to pursuing her mission for the steward.

“How long have you been in port?” she asked. “I’ve been expecting a letter from my in-laws for days and, so far, nothing. Not having any children of your own, you probably can’t understand how difficult it is not hearing anything about my little boy for so long. It’s very hard.”

Parris gave her a sympathetic nod. “No, I think I do understand,” he said quietly. “I wish I had some good news for you, but we have been in port nigh on five days now, making repairs to the hull. We brushed a reef just before entering the Anduin’s delta and have been taking on water ever since. It had to be repaired before setting sail. I’m afraid we’re the only mail ship in or out of port since.”

“Oh,” Averyll sighed. “They promised they would write to me every day with word of how he is getting on and if he misses his mummy. Is there any chance my letters might have gone astray?”

Parris started to shake his head, but stopped abruptly when he saw the look of forlorn hope in her wide, blue eyes. After a moment’s thought, he sighed. “You can try speaking to Athadan. He’s the one who receives all mail and dispatches on this end of the run. If anyone knows what’s become of your letters, it would be he.”

“Athadan?” Averyll gave Parris her prettiest smile. “Thank you so much, Parris. You don’t know what this means to me. I shall be sure to speak with him.”

“Be careful of that one,” Parris added suddenly. “To be honest, I don’t entirely trust him.”

This interested Averyll tremendously, especially since she trusted Parris and Parris’ judgment absolutely. After all, was it not Parris who tried to warn her of her husband’s improprieties months before they actually came to light? If Parris was distrustful of this man Athadan, then it was something she should definitely look into.

Averyll frowned slightly. “Is he dangerous? Should I be frightened of him?”

“No,” Parris shook his head. “But be wary. While he has always been quite competent and professional in his dealings, I get the feeling that he, well, resents his duties. In fact, lately, he has been boasting to my crew of how he will soon be taking his proper place in the world and won’t be a mere messenger boy anymore.”

“Oh, my!” exclaimed Averyll. “Perhaps he is getting an inheritance of some kind.”

Parris laughed. “And I imagine it’s wearing petticoats! The only way his kind gains position or status is by marrying it. And there have been rumors of his courting some high-ranking female on the sly, though I can't imagine who. He's just the second son of a nobody lord from the provinces.”

“Don’t be mean, Parris!” Averyll chided him gently. “It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“But the sea air suits you admirably!” rejoined Parris with a smile. “When you return to Dol Amroth, you must let me take you and your boy sailing. If he’s anything like his father, he’ll have the sea on his veins.”

Averyll grimaced. “That’s precisely why he won’t go sailing. I can’t have him running off to sea just yet. He’s only three.”

Captain Parris smiled. He was just beginning to say something else when his attention was diverted by the arrival of a horseman along the shoreline. Averyll followed his gaze to the rider as he dismounted and approached the ship. A tall young man with black hair and a thick black moustache, he wore the standard black and silver livery of Gondor, the tree and seven stars emblem shining on his chest. His olive-skinned face was pleasant enough to look upon, though not overly handsome, with deep-set dark eyes. Averyll thought she could detect a slight swagger to his walk.

“Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Parris murmured to himself. Turning to Averyll, he added, “Here’s your man, Athadan, now. If you wish to speak with him, now’s your chance.”

Thanking Parris profusely, Averyll bid him a sad good-bye and disembarked, walking to where Athadan stood talking to one of her escorts. Parris’s gray-green eyes watched wistfully as she walked away, then, sighing, he returned to the business of his ship.

Athadan delivered a short bow as Averyll joined him and the other guard.

“Greetings, Lady Averyll,” he said. “What brings you to the banks of the Anduin today, if I may be so bold?”

“Mostly my friend, Captain Parris,” she answered, opening her fan with a sharp flick of her wrist. “I heard he was in port and thought it would be pleasant to reacquaint myself. And who might you be, sir, that you should question one of Lady Finduilas' ladies so, without so much as an introduction?"

This time, he delivered a deep bow. "I am Athadan of Harondor, at your service, my lady. My apologies if I offended you. It is just rare to see a lady such as yourself out here by the river."

"Apologies accepted," Averyll said pleasantly. "Actually, I am happy to make your acquaintance. I was just inquiring of the captain if any letters had arrived for me from Dol Amroth. He assured me that he was aware of none, but that if any had come, you would be the one to know. So?" She fluttered her fan in her best imitation of a coy lady of the court, though it was not her usual style at all. "Have any letters come for me?"

A slight shadow passed over Athadan's dark eyes, then he grinned what Averyll thought to be a very superior grin for a mere guard. "Sorry," he said blandly. "The Sea Witch has been the only dispatch boat into port this week and I've seen to it that everything from that drop has been delivered. I don't recall seeing anything for you, though I doubt I would remember specifically. I suggest you check with fellows who sort the mail. Perhaps they would remember."

"No, that's all right," Averyll tried to sound disappointed. "I believe you. There was probably nothing if neither you nor Captain Parris remember anything. But I thank you for your time." Not willing to overplay her hand, Averyll ended the conversation shortly thereafter with a few lame pleasantries and an amiable smile. Taking her two guards with her, she left Athadan at the river and returned to the city. When she got home, she retired immediately to the writing desk in her room where she composed a letter to the steward, detailing her conversation with Captain Parris and her subsequent meeting with Athadan. When she had finished, she folded the vellum neatly and sealed it with a drop of midnight blue sealing wax and the emblem of a leaping dolphin, the symbol of her father's house.

[Child of the 7th Age]

The afternoon sun flooded in through the open curtains as two men sat talking in hushed tones over lunch in the private dining room.

"Denethor, I promise to take care of this. I do thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I've heard of these rumors already, and they do not please me..."

"As to your other request, regarding the Lady Pelien, I will tell you that I am hesitent to act in the manner you suggest."

Eckthelion stared at this son and sighed, "You're young. Just getting married. You have no idea yet what it is to have children, to love them beyond anything in the world, yet sometimes be unable to help them."

"If Lady Pelien has overstepped her bounds, and I do not doubt that fact, it is not because she is a traitor or wishes ill to our household. No....she is a mother who has failed to get her daughter what the young woman so desperately wanted. Surely you're aware of that. I am well aware that Adrama had her eye set on you, and that her mother tried to aid her in that."

"You liked her well enough. She is of good family and brighter than most. Who knows....? If it hadn't been for Finduilas catching your eye, and our need for an alliance, the Lady Adrama might have been chosen to join our family. Her mother finds that hard to forget when she sees her daughter's sorrowing eyes."

"Lady Pelien is no traitor. And I have no wish to start a battle with her, or her family. She was merely repeating what others have said. We must look elsewhere for the author of these lies. This is where the poison lies."

With these words, Eckthelion drew closer to his son and confided to him the name of the traitors, cautioning him to keep the news to himself. The response came swift and immediate, "But father, I cannot believe this. Are you certain? Do we have proof?"

"I am certain enough in my heart, and enough has been shown to convince me. But we can do nothing till we secure some public confirmation of what I've privately learned."

"And will you do this?"

"Aye, the trap has been set, and we will soon see what creature is caught inside. Go now to Finduilas. Tell her I am proud of how she responded to Pelien's words, and for her not to be overly harsh on the poor woman. And you, Denethor, are fortunate to have chosen a wife worthy of you, and of our family!"

"I have already sent out the invitations for the betrothal party. By week's end, you will stand in front of the court to make your promises, and all else will be forgotten. And, if I get my wish, by week's end, these poisonous vipers will be caught in a trap of their own making, and I will have them under my command."

With that, the two men parted, with Eckthelion returning to his desk to work.

********************************************

Eckthelion hunched over the table scribbling out one last letter, this one directed to the Lady Pelien. The woman was no spy or agent. He was certain of that. No agent of Umbar would dare have approached his son face-to-face with such a preposterous set of charges. If anything, Lady Pelien was the one person he could be totally certain was innocent of any serious misdeeds. She was not involved in any of the scheming other than as an innocent bystander, albeit one whose mouth was a bit too loose.

He sighed and reread the letter that sat in front of him, making sure that the words and tone conveyed the exact message he intended:

Dearest Lady Pelien,

It has come to my attention that there was a minor misunderstanding yesterday evening at the ball. Denethor came to me expressing his own concerns and those of his Lady Finduilas, a young woman of unblemished descent in whom I put great trust.

I assured my son that the whole episode had been a regrettable misunderstanding. Your family has long been among the most trusted and valued supporters of the Stewards, and I assured him this relationship would continue in the future.

With this thought in mind, I would like to put forward a proposal, for there is indeed a way that your family could assist me in safeguarding the security of Gondor. I would be most grateful if you could set up a luncheon for two days after tomorrow. This luncheon would be for three of the guards stationed in the garrison. I will be sending you the names shortly.

Please arrange for three young unattached ladies of appropriate station to attend and keep them company. You will, of course, wish to include your own daughter Adrama as well.

One other consideration. As you may have suspected, this party is more than a simple afternoon luncheon. There is a viper loose in the court, and we will use your little party to uncover just who that viper is. You do not need to bother with the details of all this. However, I will be sending you an official dispatch under separate cover addressed to Sador. Do not open that dispatch, but set it clearly out on a table, in plain sight of all, in the very room where the soldiers are asked to leave their weapons and cloaks. I will do the rest.

One final request. It is also imperative that Addruran attend this little gathering. I will contact him personally, since he will be the one assisting me in these endeavors. I have great trust in him. He is a man of valor and common sense, and one whom I've marked out for future responsibilities and a position of trust.

I pray that this arrangement will meet with your agreement, and that of your husband and family.

Regards,
Eckthelion, Steward of Gondor

[alaklondewen]

Pelien sat quietly at the breakfast table while Rummel busied herself taking up the dirty dishes and bringing fresh coffee for Pelien’s cup. Pelien, however, paid her no attention as she contemplated Adrama’s joyous reaction to her mother’s news. Had the girl completely lost her mind? Pelien was more than a little concerned about her daughter’s well-being, and this complete reversal of emotion just didn’t seem right.

“Lady Pelien…” The servant girl’s voice broke through Pelien’s thoughts and when the older woman looked up with an annoyed expression as to why she was being disturbed, Rummel continued. “There’s a messenger at the door, Madame.”

“Very well.” Pelien rose slowly from the table curious as to the nature of a message. Several possibilities ran through her mind…the message might be from Denethor apologizing for his reaction and thanking her for telling him the truth; or maybe it was from the Princess who wished to meet with Pelien before she returned to Dol Amroth…Pelien smiled at the possibilities.

As she entered the foyer her eyes landed on a young man dressed in the colors of the Steward standing next to the door. “Lady Pelien, I carry with me two letters from the Steward.” The young guard stepped forward with confidence and placed the messages in her hand. Then after a small bow, the messenger turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Pelien stood in silence for several moments just looking at the letters in her hands. Her heartbeat had steadily increased and her palms were damp, but with a deep breath Pelien overcame her nervousness and opened the first letter. She slowly began to read as she sauntered into the parlor and dropped into her favorite high-backed chair. As she finished the letter, Pelien folded the parchment and slipped it back in to the envelope.

For several minutes Pelien sat in complete silence weighing the news in the letter. The Steward was offering her a chance to redeem herself, which on one hand brought her great relief, yet on the other, she now had a great responsible not only to the Steward but now also to all of Gondor. In two days she would have another luncheon in which three unsuspecting guards would be tempted to read a confidential document. Her job now, which would be hard work, was to set up the luncheon and invite three young women as companions to the guards.

Pelien finally turned her attention to the second envelope that she unconsciously had been rotating with her thumb and forefinger. After carefully breaking the seal she slid the parchment from its cover. The second note was much shorter than the first, and read as follows…

Lady Pelien,

I have just received the information that you will need to complete your preparations for the luncheon. I will therefore send this list of names along with the same messenger who brings my letter to you.

Here is the list of names of the young men whom you will want to invite:

• Brigon - the gentleman in charge of the sorting house

• Athadan of Harondor - the guard who receives all mail and dispatches from the arriving ships, and, lastly,

• Aranarth, born and bred in Minas Tirith who was responsible for delivering the mail to my office the morning after the masquerade.

As I have said, you may also expect to see
Addruran who will be acting as my trusted agent in this affair.

Written in great haste,
Eckthelion, Steward

As soon as she refolded the paper, the entrance door opened and Adrama strolled across the foyer. “Adrama!” Pelien called out.

“Yes, Mother?” As Adrama turned toward the parlor, Pelien noticed a new lightness in her daughter’s steps.

“I want you to see something.” Pelien held the first of the Steward’s letters out to her daughter. As Adrama unfolded the paper and began to read, Pelien added, “I will need you help with this.”

[ September 16, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Arien]

“Come in,” Alethea called towards the knock on the Drawing Room door. It opened to reveal Rannë.

“Your mother wishes to see you,” she said abruptly, and before Alethea could reply she had vanished as quickly as she had entered. Alethea shut the book she was just reading and placed on the antique table beside her chair. She rose slowly and made her way over to the desk in the corner of the room. She would go to her mother in a minute; right now she had to send word to Adrama.

Alethea pulled up a chair and dipped the quill into ink, gingerly holding it over the parchment for a few seconds. A drop of ink fell and she started to write:

Dearest Adrama,
I whish to meet with you this afternoon, around 3 o’clock; if it is possible. I have some troubles on my mind that I believe you may be able to help me with and I long to speak to some one. I will meet you in the Public Garden where we first meet. I must go now; I hope I will see you soon.
Wishes Alethea

Alethea read the letter over again, and when she was satisfied she rolled it up and tied it with a string. It would be hard to get the letter out of the house without a servant intercepting it and informing her mother. The only one she felt she could trust was Meirelle, but she had to find her and Alethea dreaded the thought of keeping her mother waiting too long.

Alethea pushed back the chair swiftly and ran through the door towards the main hall. When she reached it she gazed around for Meirelle, but she could not see her. Where would she be? Alethea whispered under her breath. It was nearing noon so she would probably be in the kitchen. Alethea hurried down the corridor to the kitchen, her dress sweeping across the sheen floor. As she neared the kitchen a figure came out.

“Your mother wants you,” said Meirelle quietly shutting the door behind her.

“I know, I know.” She answered exasperatedly, “But before I go I must ask something of you.”

“Anything,” she replied.

Alethea placed the letter into Meirelle’s palms, “Can you deliver this to Adrama, please. You cannot let anyone see it apart from her.” Meirelle nodded placing it inside of her dress pocket. I need to go out for some spices anyway, I will deliver it while I am out. A grateful smile fell across Alethea’s face and she thanked her before hurrying off to meet her mother.

Alethea knocked on the door tentatively and was told to enter. Her mother was sat at her desk and she motioned for Alethea to sit down.

“My daughter, how nice of you to come so speedily…” she commented scribbling something down on the paper in front of her.

“I was….”

“I don’t need an excuse Alethea,” she replied holding her hand up to silence her, “Now I desire to talk to you…”

[ September 17, 2003: Message edited by: Arien ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Really? A spy? How...thrilling!"
Thrilling!, Emilia thought scathingly. Did Lorna not realise how serious this was? She conveniently forgot her own reaction to the news in indignation over Lorna's.
"Yes" she answered, face impassive, voice earnest. "I can't tell you any details, of course, Ecthelion swore me to secrecy. Only the most inner circle know the details."

Lorna's mouth formed an 'O' of surpprise, jealousy of Emilia's supposed position in the inner circle shining from her eyes.
"Of course" Lorna answered innocently, nodding. "I suppose you couldn't give me any idea... who?"

"No I could not" Emilia's voice was calculated to contain shock, outrage and disapproval. "It's highly confidential"
"Of course" Lorna murmured again, drawing away absently as she realised she would get no more details.

Emilia could see that even as only a partial story, Lorna would see this as one of the best she had ever heard. Emilia had not broken any of Ecthelion's wishes, and in fact it might help to have an awareness of the spies. She had made it clear enough- even for Lorna- that the group from Dol Amroth had nothing to do with it, which he would surely see as a benefit too. Emilia was feeling rather virtuous all around, in fact. She hoped that there would be some sort of a reward coming for her behaviour very soon...

[ September 19, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Nurumaiel]

Adrama read the letter quietly, and when she finished she folded it gently and placed it back in the envelope. Her mother handed her the first. This letter took her a few minutes to finish with, for she read it thrice over. A little sigh escaped her and she handed both letters back to her mother. There was a long silence, in which neither spoke, but many thoughts came and went in Adrama's mind. At last, with another sigh, she spoke slowly. "I will help, Mother," she said. "There is a person of evil here, and I will do all that I may to reveal her, though the name of this person might be one I do not wish it to be."

Her thoughts were of Alethea. She didn't know very much of the girl and her family, and it had been rather obvious to Adrama's naturally intelligent and sharp personality that there was some secret Alethea had been hiding. There was not even the slightest clue as to what it was, until now. Could it be that the traitor was Alethea, and that is what she had been hiding? The thought was too dreadful, too terrible. They had become fast friends, and Adrama knew what she would lose.

Straightening herself up and nodding with a sudden resolution, she turned abruptly away from her mother. A breeze found its way into the window and through the room, and Adrama welcomed it to soothe her burning cheeks. And with the breeze went all her fears. Maybe Alethea was the traitor, but if so, it meant Alethea was not her friend. All would be an act, an act to bring trust from the citizens at Minas Tirith and support later when she was discover. Surely Alethea knew that sooner or later her horrible plans would be discovered. But with the friendship of the people of Minas Tirith, she would have supporters right and left, protesting against any accusations.

"Adrama..." Pelien gently touched her daughter's shoulder. At the simple yet obvious sign of affection, Adrama felt a lump go to her throat and a tear to her eye. "Something is troubling you greatly, daughter," Pelien said softly. "What is it? Could it be that you know who this traitor is?"

For the briefest moment Adrama hesitated, wondering if it were all from her imagination or if there was actually evidence that proved Alethea was indeed the traitor. But she was, she had to be. Nothing else could explain her behavior of hiding something... and what about the clear anxiety that had been on her face at the masquerade? Adrama's voice came so quietly that her words were barely perceptible. "Yes, Mother, I know who it is."

Pelien did not question her. There was another period of silence, then Pelien spoke again, her voice carrying a lighter note, obviously trying to draw Adrama away from dismal thoughts. "Ecthelion has already named the men who will be attending our luncheon," she said. "He has left it to us to select the young ladies. I have already made up my mind." She waited for Adrama to face her, but seeing that the young woman did not intend to, she said in a voice full of authority and decision, "I have chosen the ladies Vieana, Averyll, and Elen."

Now Adrama did turn to her mother. Disbelief and anger was written all over her face, and she spoke no words for a few moments. Then she let a torrent of words fly from her lips, all of them spoken without thought and deliberation, the names bringing back in full force the anger she had felt on a previous occasion. "You surely are not inviting them?" she cried. "Mother, I begin to reconsider my decision to help you at this luncheon. Those three ladies bring nothing but anger to my heart, and I would not face them again in a manner of friendliness, for all kind thoughts and feelings towards them have been banished from my mind. You ask me to work with them, who I consider beyond any doubt enemies of mine, and I say to you it is impossible, and I will not do it, not even for you, Mother. They have wronged our family terribly, they and the Lady Tessa, and even now their words come back to me as they mocked you so cruelly-"

Here she was cut short by the sharp words of her mother. "Be silent, please, Adrama! You speak of them wronging our family and mocking me? From whence did this mad idea come?"

Adrama was taken by surprise and fell silent for a moment. It seemed impossible that her mother had not been aware of the ladies' attitude at their previous meeting. "It was everywhere, Mother. When you were not looking they laughed at you, and their opinions of you were low, their thoughts clearly expressed this."

"And how was it that you could read their thoughts?"

"Their eyes showed clearly..."

"There was no mockery on their part, Adrama," Pelien said firmly. "You must have been quite confused. All that I saw was love for the Lady Finduilas, which you certainly have none of."

Adrama refrained from speaking aloud her thoughts (being that her mother could say so much for herself) and straightened herself up. Her young, beautiful face grew stubborn and she shook her head. "Think what you will, Mother, but it will not change my mind. I have told you that I will not attend the luncheon if those ladies are to, and I will not." A reply from Pelien was halted as Adrama held up her hand and continued. "Don't try to order me, Mother. I my still by your daughter, but I am not your child. It has been many years since I was a child. I can decide for myself, and I choose not to go."

"If you are not a child, Adrama, than do not speak and think as a child," Pelien retorted, her voice sharp and cutting. She stood, indecisive for a moment, then her voice became gentler and her manner kindlier. "My dear girl, you may not be a child, but to me you are still one. I remember the laughing little girl who was so innocent and so unworried. And as I look at you now I sorrow, for you look as though you are much older. What worries and pains have come upon you?" She sighed sadly, then she took both her daughter's hands in her own. "I assure you, Adrama, there were no ill thoughts, ill words, or ill actions on the part of the ladies of Dol Amroth when we last met them. Perhaps they were not sure what to think. They had heard of the ghastly rumors against Finduilas, and is it not likely that they would think it was our family, in particular me, who had started them? I do not know what they thought, but I know they thought nothing against us.

"I ask you now to go to them in all manner of kindliness and loyalty and help unmask the traitor. I am sure if you will but speak to them and watch them you will see that there are no poisonous thoughts in their minds. And if you will not go to them as a friend, then go to them in forgiveness for the wrongs you believe they have done you, and as one loyal to your Steward and land. You may not be a child, Adrama, but you are not old yet, and I am growing old. I know things that you will not know until you are older. And I know this... the ladies of Dol Amroth are our allies and friends, and there is no reason to make them think otherwise."

Adrama thought on these words for awhile, then she kissed her mother's cheek, smiling at her. "I'll do as you ask, Mother," she said. "But whether as a friend or as one enduring all trials to save her land, I do not yet know. That rests entirely in the hands of the ladies with whom I will meet with."

"Thank you," said Pelien. "And if there's anything you would like to say to the ladies, then I insist that you call them aside for a few moments and do so. I'm sure the young men will not object to the young ladies speaking amongst themselves for awhile." And with those final words, Pelien released her daughter's hands and departed from the room.

Adrama remained awhile longer, thinking of what was to come. Now that her mother had revealed such deep thoughts to her, she did not know what to think. Where was her mother's pride? But perhaps it was that pride was not only a good thing. Adrama wanted to go to the ladies as a friend, but memories were making it hard. Her mother said that she had been tricking herself, that there had been no mockery and ill feelings from the ladies, but Adrama could not convince herself that this was so. Yet perhaps she would call the three of them aside for a few moments to ask their forgiveness and friendship.

She groaned and placed her head against the wall, dread building up in her. Things were becoming so clear. But if the ladies did not act in the kind manner that Adrama was preparing to act towards them, if they did not show themselves to be friends of the family and not enemies, then what would happen to all the decisions that had come to her. She would not be able to take it. It would be too much.

"Oh, Vieana, Averyll, Elen," she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Please, I beg you, do not let me down. Addruran, I'll need you to comfort me if they do. But you won't, will you, ladies?" If her mother had been there she might have been seriously alarmed at seeing the girl talking to people who were not there. But perhaps she would have understood if she had seen the weariness of mind and body that had taken her daughter, the great need for help, the sorrows of her realization of Alethea. But she did not see her daughter then. It was only afterwards when she went to look for her that she found her curled up on a chair, her dark hair running tangled down her back, her eyelashes resting on her pale cheeks where the trace of a tear still remained, and her eyes closed in peaceful slumber. The mother smiled fondly at her for a moment, then closed the door at let her daughter continue to dream.

[ September 17, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[alaklondewen]

Pelien returned to her room after checking on Adrama one last time. Her lovely daughter had dozed off in a chair in the parlor. The girl’s face exuded the innocence of her youth. How Pelien missed those days when Adrama was a little girl and life seemed simpler.

Sighing deeply, Pelien sat down at her roll-top desk in the corner of her bedroom. The rolling sound of the top thundered in the complete silence of the room. The contents of the desk were neatly organized on two small shelves along the back. It was from the lowest of these shelves that Pelien selected three pieces of parchment. Then, she pulled a stamp from the top drawer, and after pressing it generously into a soft pink pad, she carefully decorated the heading of each paper with a rose. Minutes passed before she picked up the quill to write, but finally she dipped the pen and wrote three identical letters in her elegant handwriting. The only difference seen was the name on the address line…one was addressed to Lady Averyll, the next to Lady Elen, and the third to the Lady Vieana.

Pelien hoped the ladies would accept her invitation to the luncheon. She knew now they only came to her before because of the love they had for Princess Finduilas, and she felt they deserved to be a part of this operation.

Pelien quickly folded the letters and wrote the name of each of the ladies on the appropriate paper. Then, she pulled out four more parchments and jotted down similar invitations for the young men and Addruran. Using the smaller letter from the Steward, Pelien copied the names of the young men on each page and then folded and sealed them.

She would have Rummel deliver these immediately, so Pelien hurried down to the kitchen where the servant would be preparing lunch. Rummel was given instructions to deliver the messages immediately and not to stop anywhere on the way. Pelien also informed her of the luncheon in two days and that she would have a list for the market ready when Rummel returned. With a curtsey the servant grabbed her shawl and slipped out the back door letters in hand.

[ September 19, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Everdawn]

Vieana sat drumming her fingers on the bureau in the sitting room. Averyll had returned home while she had been writing her findings in her own diary, no words had passed between the two all morning as they were both wrapped in their thoughts., and Elen still seemed to be out, attending somewhere with Tessa.

She had reviewed the past days findings in her mind. It was indeed strange the situation she had found herself in here in Minas Tirith. Vieana had come now partly becuase Finduilas requested her to but also to gain some training at the great medical schools which she had so far failed to inquire about. She was severly doubting that she wanted to be a fully practising medic, and while Dardanir had encouraged it Vieana had wanted it more than anything in the world.

She had hardly guessed that she would be playing spy for the Steward. Just then Lessawen came scurring into the room, in her little cane basket were three letters. "Come now, what news?" Vieana asked in wonder at the three envelopes. "I dont know Lady, but there is one each for yourself, Lady Averyll and Lady Elen."

"Thankyou" she mumrered reaching for the letter opener. Her eyes ran rapidly asross the letter several times before she hurried with it quickly to Averyll who was still in her room. "Averyll" she said as she tapped on the door.

"Come in" she said and so Vieana did. "A letter!, one came for you as well, though i can only assume that it says the same thing. Anyway, its form Lady Pelien. Can you believe it! A luncheon, two days." She paused while Averyll opened her letter in turn and took the time to read. Vieana sat herself down on a princess lounge in the corner of the room. Averyll got to one part of the letter and her eyes widened. "Yes, see who is coming, the rude man from the Sorting house." Vieana said angrily.

"He was so very rude, and i was very sweet to him, to all of them it was very funny. Well, what do you think?" she asked waiting for Averyll's opinion of the letter.

[Ealasaide]

"Well, what do you think?" asked Vieana as Averyll finished reading her invitation to the luncheon at the home of Lady Pelien.

"I hardly know what to think," answered Averyll, lowering the letter. "Your rude man from the sorting house is going to be there, as is my arrogant man from the docks. It was almost as though he thought himself too good to speak with me." She laughed suddenly. "I can just imagine what his face will look like when he sees me at the luncheon."

Vieana smiled weakly. "You can't think Lady Pelien invited us just to get back at us for our rumor campaign... could you? I mean, how would she know we spoke to these men ..."

"No!" Averyll shook her head. "No. She would have no way of knowing. Maybe she feels as badly as we do about how things went the last time we came to visit and wants to give us another chance. At least, that's what I am hoping. The fact that the other guests are the fellows who handled the steward's mail tells me that something else is afoot, but I honestly believe it has little to do with us."

Vieana leaned toward Averyll from her perch on the edge of the princess lounge. "How can you say that? It seems to have everything to do with us. You have to admit that it's far too much of a coincidence that we should have spoken to the steward of these men only to find ourselves invited to a luncheon almost immediately where we will be expected to entertain these same three men."

Averyll sighed and gave the letter another long look. "You know, you are right. But I still think the fact that those particular gentlemen are going to be there has everything to do with us, but the fact that we are invited to be there, too, has nothing to do with them. Does that make any sense?"

"None at all!" Vieana laughed. "But I trust you know what you are talking about."

"I think I do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We go and we behave as perfect ladies and hostesses, and let whatever is to happen unfold around us."

"And then?" asked Vieana.

Averyll shrugged and gave her friend a hopeful smile. "Then we see what happens."

[ September 21, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaide ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The garrison was quiet that afternoon as Eckthelion sat waiting for Addruran to make his appearance. A number of the guards had departed earlier that day in small groups of twos and threes to search the surrounding countryside. There'd been several rumors of an attack by Orcs on innocent travellers. With that possible threat, the Steward had felt compelled to send out patrols to check on the safety of the roads, especially those that lie to the east in the foothills of the mountains.

Yet his present concerns lay closer to home. He needed to speak with Addruran and let him know what his assignment would be. There was a firm knock; then the door swung open and a young man came striding into the room.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Addruran respectfully nodded his head.

The Steward beckoned the guard to come inside the office, "Yes, I need you to do some work for me. This is a matter of great importance, and I must warn you to keep everything I say here in confidence. The safety of Gondor may depend on it. Come, sit down. We must talk."

For the next half hour, the two men exchanged confidences, with Eckthelion spelling out his intentions. The Steward outlined the events of the past two days for Addruran and revealed some of the information he'd gleaned as well as his plans for a luncheon at Lady Pelien's house. "And this," he added, glancing up at the guard's surprised face, "is where you come in. We must attempt to set up a situation to uncover whoever is responsible for the mishandling of these dispatches. It must be one of these three men. You will be sent an invitation to the gathering, but you will actually be acting as my agent."

"Before the party starts, I want at least twelve guards brought to the house, hidden in strategic spots in the garden and the rooms that adjoin those where the party is being held. Also hide two soldiers in the closet in the same room where the guards will be asked to lay down their cloaks and weapons for the duration of the party. You will leave this dispatch in clear sight of anyone who might walk in. Set your own cloak down first, and leave the scroll on top of it, as if you intended to deliver it after the party."

The Steward reflected a minute and then added, "In fact, let it be known to your companions at lunch that after departing from Lady Pelien's household, you will be riding down to the ships to entrust this to one of the captains. Brag a bit, if you like."

Eckthelion handed the young man what looked like an official dispatch that was being sent to Thorongil. "Here it is. Guard it with care."

"Excuse me, sir, but what does this thing say, if it is permitted to ask such a question?"

The Steward sat back and laughed, "A more prudent man would not have brought such a query to me, but you are at least honest and deserve an answer." Eckthelion hesitated and replied, "It is a letter instructing Thorongil to attack the Corsair ships, as he has so often begged me to do."

Addruran's face blanched as he took in the meaning of this message. "Sir,..."

"No, you misunderstand me. Perhaps we will come to this point someday, but we are not there yet. This document is a fake, a forgery that I intend to use to ferret out a traitor. If a man is innocent, he will leave the message alone, but if he is guilty...." The Steward's voice drifted off.

"He must open the message and memorize it, as he can not risk taking it with him. Then he will come back to the table and invent some excuse for immediately leaving the party."

"Whoever that is, you are to arrest him and bring him immediately back to the palace. I will be waiting for you."

The conversation between the two men continued for some time, focusing on the various details that would need to be worked out over the next few days. Finally, as Addruran stood up to leave the room, he extended a hand in farewell, "Sir, I will not fail you. I know how much rides on this."

The Steward nodded his head, "I am counting on that, young man, for I have confidence in your good judgment and discretion. I would not otherwise have entrusted such a mission to you. The next time you see me, you will hopefully have our culprit in tow."

With that final exchange, Addruran bowed and left the room.

[alaklondewen]

As the morning of the luncheon dawned, the morning light streamed through the crack between the thick draperies hanging to the floor from the double doors that opened up to Pelien’s personal balcony. The woman’s face cringed when a ray fell upon her eye, and she turned toward over to face her husband. The couple had made up over the last two days, and Sador knew and understood what had brought Pelien to the point of confronting Finduilas and Denethor. He also knew of what would happen in a few hours at the luncheon.

As soon as she realized what the day was, Pelien’s eyes snapped open, and with a good stretch, she slid her legs over the side of the bed. After a short bath, Pelien chose a simple, yet elegant, navy dress from her armoire, and went downstairs to ensure the house would be to her standards before the arrival of the guests.

Pelien stood over Rummel and her sister, who had been called upon to help cook for the guests, all morning, only stopping for a simple breakfast when Sador and Adrama came down. Everything was coming along nicely, and soon the morning had worn on and the ladies would be arriving any minute. Sure enough, as Pelien stood before her mirror checking that every hair was in place, she heard the door open and voices coming below her. With one last glance at her reflection, Pelien exited her bedroom and met Adrama in the hallway before they both strolled down the stairs to greet their guests.

Three young faces rose to meet their hostesses. All three of the ladies were dress stylishly and Pelien admitted that they did look beautiful.

“Welcome, Ladies. I am glad you’ve come this afternoon. Please, come sit down and let us talk before the men arrive.” Pelien proudly led them across the foyer and into the parlor where she took her place in the high-backed floral chair. As soon as Adrama, and the others were seated, Pelien continued. “I think you should know why I asked you here today.” Leaning forward and looking each of them in eyes, Pelien described to Averyll, Vieana, and Elen the basics of what would happen in the next hour or so. She also explained her reasoning in choosing them. “I know you came to me at our last meeting because of your love for the Lady Finduilas, and at last I understand your motives. Because of the nature of this meeting, I feel you three, in some way, deserve to be a part of righting the wrongs toward your Lady.”

[ September 20, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Novnarwen]

Sador was more than willing to help his wife Pelien with this special luncheon. The two of them had talked, and agreed that none of them were mad at ecah other, Sador was also fully aware why Pelien had 'attacked' Finduilas. Pelien's intentions were good and that was enough for him.

"The ladies have arrived, I can hear them" Pelien told her husband, "So, I'll have to go down and greet them," she added. Sador nodded. "I hope everything will work out fine," he assured her. Pelien squeezed Sador's hand before saying that she thought it would go well, only that she was a bit nervous about the whole idea of guards running about in her house playing.. Pleien didn't get herself to finish before she rushed towards the door. "The guards will also come soon," she added before she walked out of the room. Sador could her her rush down the stairs.

Sador went down the stairs, now wandering in the foyar going in circles. From the parlour he heard thin women voices talking quietly. Ah well, Sador thought. This will be an exciting luncheon, and who knows maybe something unforseen will happen. He shuddered, it was far too unrealistic to be true. A traitor, among them? Rummel opened the door at the same time, the 12 guards and Adduran had arrived.

"Greetings, Adduran." The young man greeted Sador and took his hand firmly. The 12 guards followed doing the exact same thing. Sador smiled.

"Lets get down to business," he said in a calm but eager voice. "Now, come with me." Sador lead them to the cloak room. "As you may see,"Ssador looked at each of the guards. "This is the cloak room, it's the most important place of all today," he announced seeing the seriousness in the guards' eyes. "You two." He pointed at two guards. They were small but strong, exactly what Sador was looking for to have in a small closet.

"I suggest that you two would like the honour of having the best place of all." The two of them looked at each other and nodded. "Very well then, the closet will be your hiding place," he said looking at them and thereafter the closet which stood in a corner.

"In there?" one of them burst out.

"Yes, if you don't mind of course," Sador replied strictly looking at the now tense and nervous guard. The other, pretended as nothing. "I do suggest that you try it out before you're actually going to sit there in perhaps a couple of hours."

None of them said a word, the other ten guards however, had a pleasant time, watching their companiens being afraid to sit in a closet. Sador opened the narrow doors so everyone could see in.

"Nice space, eh?" Sador said, trying to be funny. None of the guards laughed though. "Now come on, what are you waiting for. We don't have that much time. We are already late," he said pushing them in.

Sador smiled, he was happy with the result. "If you need anything then.." Sador had't really thought about that. "Okay, lets just say that I hope you have eaten, and...because you won't be able to do that for the next couple of hours, unless something extremeley odd happens. Anyway try not to cough or sneeze, well don't try, just don't sneeze nor cough. Okay?" He didn't wait for reply before he locked the doors and led the other guards to the next room.

After about 15 more minutes all the guards were placed around in the house and in the garden and all were ready to 'attack' when the signal was given. "Adduran, thank you for coming," Sador said at last after giving the final instructions. Adduran smiled, "The plaseure is on my side." Sador patted the young man at his shoulder:

"Why don't we join the ladies, then?" he asked. Adduran followed.

[ September 21, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Nurumaiel]

Addruran did not follow Sador immediately. Taking off his cloak, he put it on a table by the door, and, hiding a grin, pulled the scroll from his belt and placed it on top of the cloak. After making sure it was completely visible, he turned to Adrama's father, but not to follow him. "Sir, I have something that I need to ask you," he said, blushing deeply. "It will only take a moment. I realize the ladies are waiting, but I can't say this in front of them, especially where Adrama might hear."

Sador gave him a kind, fatherly look and, already guessing what the young man wanted to say, dropped his hand from the handle of the door and gestured towards a chair. Addruran shook his head. "No, it won't take that long," he said. Leaning against the wall to steady himself, he looked Sador straight in the eye and spoke clearly. "Sador, I am asking permission to marry your daughter, if she'll have me."

The question was not unexpected. Sador showed no hesitation at all. "You have my permission, and I'm glad," he said, and smiled when he saw Addruran's tenseness ebb away to be replaced by weak relief. "I know Adrama has long been in love with Denethor, or so she thought. Ahem... some people might say that I couldn't understand how she felt because I was a man, but Adrama was always her father's pet and I know her well. I also remember when I was first falling in love with my wife." He smiled fondly for a moment, then continued. "I don't think she was really in love with Denethor, Addruran," he said. "See how already she ceases to care for him. It's because she's realizing the truth. And I believe in her heart, very deep down where she can barely see it, she loves you. But that is coming to light, and soon she'll know."

Addruran grasped the back of a nearby chair and gripped it tightly. Could it be that Adrama loved him? That it wasn't hopeless?

Sador hesitated for a moment, then spoke once more. "I don't know what my wife will think of it. I believe that both wife and daughter are realizing the truth... the daughter loves you and the wife is ready to take you as a son. They just need to fully realize it. But, Addruran, you have my full permission and I cannot think of a finer man for Denethor. I hope I do not cause you any embarrassment by saying this, but not even Denethor would be good enough."

Addruran, though he was still feeling weak, felt loyalty surging up in him. "Denethor is a fine man," he protested.

"He's a great man," Sador replied, chuckling a little, then he fell sober again. "He's just not the one for my Adrama." And Addruran was glad of that.

Meanwhile Adrama had taken the three ladies aside, blushing in shame and looking pleadingly at them. They couldn't understand the reason for her sorrow and fear, but they looked gently at her. A few moments passed, then Adrama decided to make a blunt confession of it. "I've treated you very horribly, and I'm sorry," she said, and her voice showed she truly was sorry.

The ladies were silent for a moment, then Averyll spoke hesitatingly. "I don't understand what you mean," she said. "When did you ever treat us badly? The only time I have spoken with you was the time we met with you and your mother for tea, but I did not notice you treating us badly."

"Perhaps not where you could see me, but I've been telling my mother horrible things about you, and I've been thinking horrible things about you, and..." Then in a rush, Adrama told those three rather startled ladies all her feelings about them since the tea party, and how she had called them cruel and malicious. When she finished, her lips were quivering and her eyes were dim. Vieana, kind and gentle of heart, immediately threw her arm around the girl's trembling shoulders and murmured forgiving words in her ear.

"So.... I'm very sorry," she finished at last, with great effort. The three ladies comforted her and showed such kindness and forgiveness that Adrama felt even worse. Averyll smiled at her and said, "Come, now, I hear your father and the young man Addruran coming. You don't want them to see you've been crying, do you?"

Adrama smiled thankfully at the three of them and went to open the door for the two. She was very startled when she saw Addruran. She had been aware that he would be there, but he strode in regally, looking down his nose at everyone and his eyes arrogant. She had never seen him look that way before. "Addruran...?" she began.

"Good day, Adrama," he said, brushing past her without even a glance at her, and surveying the room. "None of you look very important," he said scornfully.

Adrama was thoroughly shocked, as did the three ladies. She opened her mouth, stammered a few words out, then leaned against the wall for support. What had come over Addruran? What was wrong with him.

"No, indeed, you don't look like you have important papers with you," said Addruran. "Not like me!"

Adrama gaped at him, and the Dol Amroth ladies looked rather uncertainly. It seemed rather clear that, when hearing about Addruran from Pelien and Adrama, they hadn't expected him to be anything like that. "What important papers?" Adrama managed to gasp out at last, trying to keep her confusion hidden.

"Papers from none other than Ecthelion himself," Addruran replied. "Very important papers. About the corsairs, you know. And it gives orders to..." He was interrupted rudely by Adrama grabbing his arm and sharply pulling him aside, her eyes flashing. "What, Adrama?" he cried angrily. "You interrupt me, the bearer of such important papers, so rudely?"

"Addruran, I don't know what has come over you, but will you be quiet. If you are carrying important papers, don't tell everyone what they contain. I know the Dol Amroth ladies are fully trustworthy, but all the same I'm sure Ecthelion would be-"

"Adrama, this is an act," Addruran said, his voice barely a whisper. "Those papers are fake, and they're supposed to be found. I can't tell you more, but a spy..." He trailed off for a moment, then he said, "Just don't interfer, all right? Everyone in this room has to hear that I have important papers with me. And later, when the three men arrive, you'll hear much of the samet thing."

Adrama was silent for a moment, then she gave a barely perceptible nod of her head and let Addruran go. When he had crossed the room again, scornfully looking down his nose at Averyll, who was standing next to him, Adrama spoke up, her voice calm but annoyed. "Be that as it may," she said, as though she were referring to something Addruran had just said to her, "I don't believe you have important papers at all. If you do, why don't you show them to us and prove it?"

"Prove I have important papers that give orders that the corsairs should be attacked?" Addruran laughed. "I would show them to you, Adrama, only I don't have them on me right now. I left them out by the door on top of my cloak, and I don't care to go get them."

"Then I suggest we stop this foolishness about important papers and start the luncheon," Adrama said sharply. "Or shall we at least get ready? The men will be arriving any moment. And, Addruran, for goodness' sake stop looking down your nose at people. Important papers, yes. Important person? No." Inwardly she was laughing so hard that it was extremely difficult to keep her face straight.

"No doubt Ecthelion will give me a high position in his court," Addruran muttered sulkily as he took a seat, shoving Elen out of the way to do so. "After all, they are very important papers and that makes me an important person." And he scowled at Adrama. She looked at Averyll and gave an apologizing smile, though it was really a way to get some of her mirth out.

[ September 25, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Elora]

Ruiel cast an incisive gaze over her younger daughter. Alethea seemed unpeterbed by her insolent dawdling in attending to her mother's summons. Displeasure kindled in Ruiels gaze. She was far too tired to contend with this ongoing rebellion from her own flesh and blood, no less! Countless years spent in desperate labour would not be undone by a feckless girl, be that girl her daughter or no!

Ruiel took a calming breath which in no way banked the ire of her gaze and set down her nib upon her desk with deliberate care.

"Sit, Alethea," she said in voice that brooked no argument. Alethea visibly bit down on a comment and proceeded to search out a chair. She noticed Dryea sitting silently before the hearth, garbed in maudlin black and hesitated before taking a seat herself. What her sister had already said, Alethea could only guess, however it was plain that their mother was displeased.

Ruiel rose from her desk and paced on the luxuriant carpet that was spread over the flagstone floor, behind the chairs arrayed before the hearth. Alethea cast a sidelong glance at her older sister, her discomfort rising steadily as her mother allowed the silence to stretch. Only the whispering of her skirts as she paced and the crackle of the fire upon the grate filled the room.

"I learnt of a curious thing upon the evening past," Ruiel said in a deceptively light voice. Alethea held her tongue and the silence stretched again as she gazed stubbornly ahead.

"It came to my attention, amongst other interesting tidbits, you had a disagreement with your sister, Alethea." Again, Ruiel's voice was smooth. It was as though she were blithely commenting on the perfection of a summer's day. Yet, in her office, Alethea felt distant indeed from such warmth and pleasure. She shot another glance at Dryea, speculation on how her sister had painted the disasterous exchange whilst she had her mother's ear running again. It was not fair that her mother was inclined to favour Dryea always first.

Neither was it fair that her mother interrogated her, pacing behind her chair. Alethea swallowed.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she began. Ruiel laughed and Alethea fell silent, wishing she had not spoken at all. What had she to be sorry for, indeed? A misspoken word? What was that compared to the stain of an innocent life upon your hands?

"Sorry makes little difference to me. If you think I will squander my time listening to your concocted lies on what was and was not said, then you sorely underestimate the danger we are all in!" Ruiel's voice had sunken to a hiss that twisted over Alethea's shoulder and snaked into her ear. Her mother straightened and walked away from the back of the chair, leaving Alethea with a horrible question. Had it been her sister or her mother that had murdered Rhir?

She cast another glance at Dryea, who sat in the perfect poise of a grieving widow. Ruiel caught the stare and snapped at Alethea.

"Heed me Alethea. Gone are the days where you were coddled. No longer shall you be protected from your duty. Your sister has embraced it, and too long have you dragged your feet in following along your chosen path!"

"Chosen by who?" Alethea gasped, surprised at the heat in her own voice. Her mother, by contrast, was icy silence once more. She did not hear Ruiel this time as her mother drew closer to Alethea's chair.

"Chosen by me, daughter. Gainsay your duty and mayhap I will gainsay the life I gave you!" Alethea's eyes went wide in her pale face. Ruiel's fury blazed from every inch of her regal being. Ice that burnt. Perhaps she knew who the murderer was now. Alethea tightened her grip on the sides of her chair and lowered her eyes.

Ruiel reined back hard on her frayed composure and whirled away. The office was again silent as the women struggled with themselves in very different battles.

"Things could very nearly come undone," Ruiel murmured in a voice that betrayed her underlying sense of impending disaster. If it was to be averted, it would be by a narror margin. The office was filled with a thick tension that seemed to even defeat the life of the fire upon the hearth. It was a cold place, doom in the air.

In a stronger voice, Ruiel continued on down a different path, unwilling to contemplate failure.

"Yet even so, things fall our way still. Alethea, it is time to put your friendship," sarcasm was heavy upon that word as it fell from Ruiel's lips, "with Pelien's daughter to good use. We cannot squander Rhir's timely death." Alethea twisted in her chair, horrified at Ruiel's perfunctory tone of voice. Dryea closed her eyes, keeping her pain to herself. Alethea could not believe her eyes.
Her mother considered Rhir's death a boon.

"You will find your friend and tell her of how grief striken your sister is at the death of the fool boy. Say how incapacitated by sorrow the house is and yet that House Morthaniawen will serve the Steward in seeing the marriage of his son to Finduilias fulfilled."

Alethea blinked in disgusted astonishment.

"But mother... why?" Ruiel turned back to her younger daughter's pale face.

"Because in that alone, duty and sorrow, shall we have such disguise. Who can bear to closely watch such pain. Whilst they avert their eyes, whilst they think us frozen by grief, shall we strike unseen." A fierce smile of pleasure lit Ruiel's features. It was more fearsome than the rage of a moment before.

Alethea gulped, thoughts swirling within her head. Ruiel made for her desk once more, now done with both girls.

"Alethea, see to it that you meet your friend today. I want word spread quickly of Rhir's death and I can think of no better pit of gossiping vipers than Pelien's household.

Dryea, you are to remain here to received any who come with their condolences. I want the lords and ladies of Mians Tirith gulled by nightfall."

Her orders given, she waved both daughters out in patent dismissal. Rannë, who had hovered in a corner throughout the entire exchange, kept her eyes averted and focused on the hem of her skirts. She dared glance up in time to take in the shocked faces of Dryea and Alethea and the auburn hair of their mother who bent back over her correspondence, nib once more in hand. The maid sighed sorrowfully and waited where she was until summonsed once more to do something unsavoury in this sorry business.

[Arien]

"Alethea, see to it that you meet your friend today. I want word spread quickly of Rhir's death and I can think of no better pit of gossiping vipers than Pelien's household. Dryea, you are to remain here to receive any who come with their condolences. I want the lords and ladies of Minas Tirith gulled by nightfall."

Alethea turned swiftly and headed straight to the door, her mother had angered her a great deal; although she found that she could not argue with her. She could never win a fight with her mother. Her palm pushed the door open and she headed to the garden; she would take a walk and collect her thoughts. Alethea had left without biding farewell, however it was not to be expected; the heat between the three had grown fierce these past days.

And there were lots to be gathered. Either her mother or Dryea had killed Rhir. She desperately tried to think of which one as she swept out on to the garden path; not Dryea surely. She loved him, but one was never sure of what Dryea could do. Her mother would suit the killers profile better; she was ambitious, too ambitious at times but when Alethea thought of it. No her mother couldn’t of.

Ruiel had indeed taken advantage of his death and commanded Alethea to spread the rumours but she was hardly going to do such a thing. And the way he mother talked about Adrama like that! Alethea was not going to use her, she would never dream of doing that. But that trivial meeting seemed to have pushed Alethea to the edge.

She had promised herself if she could find one spark of even some integrity, decency in her family then she would not tell Adrama for all the riches in the world.

Alethea still loved them; but they had gone to the extreme. Her mother and sister showed none of their true warmth that she had yearned for them to reveal, they were as cold as ice and their hearts as solid as granite. She would enlighten Adrama to her predicament and she would see what her reactions would be. Alethea was at a loss of what to do and she dearly hoped that

Adrama might have at least some idea.

Alethea sat down on a bench along the path; the sun shone lightly on her face and warmed her a little. It was cold out side but the chill of the wind was a fire compared to the chill she felt from her mother. The sweet smell of flowers surrounded her, and bright colours danced across the flowerbeds. Chirping birds were busy across the garden and the soft hum of the life outside of the estate could be heard, just.

“Alethea!” Came a voice from the right, she turned round and was greeted by Meirelle.

She was still in her shawl and carried a basket in her hands. She had obviously just returned from her duties.

“Alethea,” she said again coming up to her. Alethea stood and greeted her. “I have sent it, she should get it soon….”

Meirelle paused momentarily looking upon Alethea’s face. “Have you been crying?” She inquired.

Alethea was shocked at what she said, but when she wiped her hand across her cheek damp salty tears met her fingers.

“Why yes I have,” she said solemnly, “Thank you Meirelle.” The girl nodded and made her way back to the manor without any more questions. Alethea was glad at this; she did not feel like answering any.

Alethea returned to her seat and sighed, “So now tears fall with no heed to my wishes, am I so broken, so hurt that this can happen?” she whispered to herself. And she was; she could not believe what was happening. Her whole world was collapsing around her. Her mother treated her a material position to be used when convenient. And all communication with her sister was lost.

Alethea longed to go back to happier days…but what happier days? Was it not true that it had always been this was, just she had never had the sense to argue against the dishonest nature of her kin. She had been too scared of them, too timid and too foolish to admit the ones she loved were wicked.

Her whole life had been wrong, she was forced to do these things; but she had never rebelled against them. Alethea was so frustrated with herself, tears started to flow again with out her knowledge till one fell onto her palm. Alethea unconsciously wiped it away on her dress and stared blankly ahead.

Tears she had shed over her plight, but what of the plight of Gondor if she did not tell someone? And could she even bring herself to tell someone? She hated them; but loved them and her heart could not bring itself to tell anyone. And Alethea hated herself for it.

She was so confused and now the tears blurred her eyes. And the small knife that lay beneath her dress looked incredibly welcoming. She pulled it from its tiny sheath. She had always carried it, but she had never been attacked; or had a chance to use it. Its steely point glimmered gently in the suns brilliance, its sharp edge catching sparkling light. Alethea toyed with knife for a few moments and the grasped it firmly by the handle. She drove it down, down into the wooden bench and released her hand almost instantly as if were on fire.

This was getting beyond horrid, she needed to talk to Adrama.

[ September 23, 2003: Message edited by: Arien ]

[maikafanawen]

Dryea left Ruiel's room a little while after Alethea. But unlike her younger sister had, she curtsied politely and looked reservedly triumphant in her mother's direction before leaving. She was quick enough to spy Alethea retreating down a hallway towards an exit. Looking about for a moment, she decided on pursuit and followed her quietly.

Her younger sister led her down a tightly packed dirt garden path that led out into the tame flowers of the courtyard. A little ways down she stopped and sat on a bench. Dryea stayed concealed in the shadows.

The eldest daughter of Morthaniawen was not sure why she had followed. She was suspicious, but she knew that nothing would be revealed to her now. Still, the expressions of a face and simple gestures could tell much more than words ever would.

So she stood in silence and observed Alethea analytically. What was she thinking? What she hiding? Dryea wished she knew. Meirelle approached her at one time, just come from outside the estate walls, and whispered something to her mistress. Then the girl straightened and this time, more loudly, asked if she had been crying. Alethea touched her face and nodded, "Why yes I have, thank you Meirelle." Then the maid left and began to walk up the path towards Dryea. The Morthaniawen in shadows smirked and stepped back further into the dimness until Meirelle passed. Then she abandoned her watch on her sister and followed the second best source of information: her handmaiden.

Just before the girl reached the door to the house Dryea quickened her pace and intercepted her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Excuse me," she turned the startled girl around and faced her authoritatively.

"Yes m'lady?" the maid said, curtsying. Dryea eyed her skeptically, waited for her to rise and somewhat regain her composure before questioning her.

"Did you just speak with the lady Alethea?" she began. Meirelle nodded, eyes averted. "What did she have to say then?" Her tone was tense and commanding. The maid hesitated before answering and when she did her voice was trembling and coy.

"I was inquiring about Lord Isindil's son," she whispered. To complete the act, a single tear slipped quickly down the maid's cheek. Still wounded about Rhir's death herself, Dryea accepted the tale and dismissed her. The maid was out of sight before Dryea questioned her honesty. It was too late then for Rheaite summoned her to prepare to receive the condolences.

Somewhat restless at the thought of sitting around and looking depressed all day, Dryea reluctantly mounted the steps to her room so that Rheaite might tend to her. She passed a large mirror hanging on the wall in the hallway. The woman stopped and gazed appraisingly at her reflection, pushing back the net that hung over her face suspended from her hat. Her features had suddenly returned to the sultry and devious form they had attained so often before. She grinned.

"My, I do look fine in black." Chuckling malevolently, she entered her room. It was a wicked thing to say at such a time but, after all, Dryea was a wicked woman.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Alak's post:

Pelien sat motionless in her high-backed chair listening to the sound of the guards in the next room with her husband. When she watched them filing through the door just moments before, the reality and significance of what was happening in her own home left her in an almost dazed state. Thankfully, Adrama had taken the young ladies into another room, so she didn’t have to hide her nervousness. For the first time, Pelien thoroughly contemplated the possibilities of who the spy might be and what would happen if and when he was caught. What if we can’t catch him? I will be a disgrace in the Steward’s eyes. Her long fingers squeezed the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white. She’d never considered what would happen if they were unsuccessful this afternoon, or what if…What if he lashes out violently? If violence occurred she hoped that Sador would stay out of it. Even though she knew he was a fully capable and respectable soldier, he was her love and she didn’t want him in any danger. Pelien let the air she had been unconsciously holding slowly escape through her lips.

Sador and Addruran returned from the garden and while Pelien’s husband paused next to his wife, Addruran, who looked almost giddy to Pelien, instinctively went in search of Adrama. With one eyebrow raised, Pelien looked up at her husband, but Sador’s only reply was a warm, handsome smile and the gentle squeeze of his hand on her shoulder. As soon as Sador offered his hand to help Pelien up from the chair, Rummel appeared in the doorway announcing that the remainder of the guests was currently coming up the walkway. Pelien inhaled deeply and grasped Sador’s still-outstretched hand. Nodding at one another with the same look of encouragement, Sador and Pelien entered the foyer to greet their guests.

Three young men in full uniform crossed the threshold taking their hats off as they entered. Their faces automatically lifted as their eyes wandered over the décor of Sador and Pelien’s home.

“Welcome to our home, Gentlemen. I’m so glad you were able to join us this afternoon.” Pelien stood proud and tall as she smiled amiably at the young men. Adrama, who must have heard her mother’s voice, led the ladies from Dol Amroth into the foyer to meet their companions for the afternoon. “Oh, good, Ladies, I would like you to meet Brigon, Athadan, and Aranarth.” The guards each nodded respectfully as his name was spoken, and the young ladies smiled charmingly batting their eyelashes. “Here we have the Ladies Averyll, Elen, and Vieana.” Each of the ladies offered her hand, and the young men seemed eager to take them. “Sador, would you mind showing the men to the cloak room, so they can lay down their cloaks and weapons?”

“Of course I don't mind, Dear.” Pelien watched as her husband led the guards around the corner to the cloak room. As soon as they were out of sight, she threw Addruran a questioning glance. He nodded answering her without words…the trap had been set.

In just a moment the men returned. “Now let us proceed to the dining room where we may speak more comfortably.” Pelien smiled the gracious smile of an experienced hostess, and after taking her husband’s arm, she led them to the dining table that was lavishly set for the luncheon. The mannerly men remained standing until the women were seated, and Rummel and her sister immediately began pouring wine for all the guests.

*********************************************

Nurumaiel's post:

Addruran had remained fairly silent up till the arrival of the other men, but when they arrived it was clear to Adrama that he was preparing himself to tell them about the papers in some way or another. She decided to help him a little. Standing, she gave a graceful curtsey to the men and said, "Good day, sirs. Please, do sit down. You haven't missed much talk, and the luncheon has not, naturally, begun without you." Sitting down, she smiled at Addruran. "We were just talking about Addruran's new position in Ecthelion's court."
Addruran felt relief come surging over him. Adrama had solved the problem as to how to start speaking about the important papers. Putting a smug look on his face, he nodded.

Brigon grinned rather hesitantly at Addruran. "This is new to me," he said. "What happened that gained you this new position?"

"I am in charge of delivering an important message from Ecthelion," Addruran replied. "I don't have it with me to show you; it's near the door on top of my cloak. But I remember what it says perfectly. It is an order to attack the corsairs, to say it shortly."

"Are you sure Ecthelion won't mind you telling this to us?" Athadan asked.

Addruran, in an attitude of extreme carelessness, said lightly, "Oh, he won't mind."

Adrama choked on a biscuit she had taken from a plate while no one was looking, and Pelien looked at her sternly, reprimanding her for taking the biscuit before they'd begun to eat and threatening to give the plan away at the same time. While Pelien wasn't looking, Adrama stretched out to put the biscuit back, but it slipped from her hand and rolled under the feet of Athadan. She paused for a few moments, then looked up, to find with a shock that Vieana was looking at her. But the lady of Dol Amroth smiled reassuringly at her, and Adrama decided then and there that she would be fast friends with the three ladies from that moment onward.

"-very important, yes," Addruran was saying. "If they should fall into the wrong hands, Ecthelion would surely behead me. However, I know I can trust all of you. That is why I tell you all this. If I thought any of you might be willing to sell that note for much money, or even be a spy for the corsairs, I would not tell you."

"It's very flattering that you put so much trust in us, Addruran," Aranarth said sincerely. "I hope all of us shall live up to your expectations, and I believe that none of us will disappoint you. But all the same, are you sure it is wise to tell everyone this?"

While Addruran made a very weak reply, Adrama crossed Aranarth off her list of suspects. He had really meant what he had just said, and he couldn't be the spy. Of course, if he were as good an actor as he were a spy, things could be different. Brigon had acted a little nervous when he had heard of Addruran's new position, but that was foolishness. He couldn't have known that 'new position' was the result of an 'attack on the corsairs.' Please let the spy be found out soon, Adrama thought. And don't let be Addruran be hurt when they're surrounding him. Please, don't let Addruran be hurt. She had suddenly realized how dangerous it was for Addruran to be hunting this spy. If the latter was armed, Addruran could be hurt. He was very brave...

Something flickered inside of her, but she drove it away. That was foolishness, and it couldn't be true.

[ September 28, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Manardariel]

Midnight moon. Lady´s eyelash. Finduilas deeply enhaled the scent of the roses, naming each one as she leant down, beathing in. She had always loved roses, their deep smell, their intense beauty. Battlefield blood; Morning Glory. Who had named these flowers, who had given these divine descriptions. And who remeberes them now? She bent down, picking off a dying bloom. Carefully she put into her hand, stepping away from the flower beds. Then she took a deep breath. And blew. The pettles were immeadiatly grabbed by a gust of wind, speading out in all four corners of the world. As a child, she would have made a wish now. But where had her wishes brought her? Where in this cold world was there room for her wishes?

Someone lightly tapped her on the shoulder. She swung round.
“Oh, Denethor, it´s you!”
He smiled at her, his deep, sensitive eyes full of affection. “Hello, my dear. I´m sorry I didn´t see you earlier this morning. I was rather busy, you see?” She smiled back at him. He was such a gentle soul, and he would make such a good husband- indeed, such a gentle lover. She leaned against him. Finduilas was not very tall, and now Denethor seemed like a pillar of strength she could lean against- against all odds. A deep sigh escaped her. “What is it, my love?” Denethor gently touched her chin. “Are you ill?”

“No,” she said vaguely. “No, no, I´m fine.” He gently turned her around, looked her straight in the eye.
“Pelien?”

She nodded slowly. “I don´t understand, it´s so outrageous. How can she hate me so much, I -” She stopped. Denethor had layed his fingers on her lips. She closed her eyes, felt his arms around her waist, his shoulders on her cheeks, and then- his lips on hers.
They kissed. Long, gently, passionatly. After an eternity, they broke apart. Caressing her cheek, he murmered into her ear: “Don´t listen to them. They know nothing of you, but they don´t hate you.....” Tears of love and gratitude spilled on Finduilas´ cheeks, on her beloved´s shoulders.

Without speaking a word, Denethor took her hand. He lead her out of the garden, through the citadel, into the stables. Gently, he helped her onto his horse, got on behind her. They rode out of the city. Finduilas let out a delighted squeel as the mare galloped out at full spead. Denethor´s hands held her tight. The woind played with her hair. Oh Eru, she thought. Just look at us. Words are so silly. Just look into my heart. They rode along Mindolluin, and reached a small grove of trees. As sweet smell of blossom, of summer lingered in air. A bird burst into song. Lightly, full of elegance Denethor dismounted the horse, then helped her off. She tripped, stumbled, fell into his arms. He too lost his balance and they rolled along the floor, laughing like children, blissfully happy. They kissed some more, then sat down, talking. Laughing. Being silly, and childish. Or just in love.
“Catch me!” she called out, running off. He followed her, grabbing her tight. Holding her.

“I´ve caught you.” He wispered. “And I´m never, ever going to let you go.”

[ September 29, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[*Varda*]

The past few days had been filled with such strange events. The look on Pelien's face - the realisation that Finduilas really was who she appeared to be. Then - the news that Rhircyn had died that morning. A strange death, dying so silently in the dead of night.

Elena had not been to see Dryea since she had heard of this. How must she be feeling? The atmosphere around the courts was odd - there seemed to be more whispers, more secrets than ever before. Elena had no idea what any of this was about, not having seen any of her friends since the masquerade ball, and not having Dryea to depend on to get her information

Feeling terrible for not having seen her dear friend after these tragic events, Elena donned her cloak and left her rooms, heading for the Morthaniawen estate. And maybe, just maybe, Dryea would have some answers to these mysterious secrets that seemed to be hovering in the air, if she felt able to talk.

Arriving at the Morthaniawen's, Elena knocked on the door, waiting for a maid to answer.

[piosenniel]

Pio's post

Prior to the luncheon . . .

He had been daydreaming of her as he sat at the desk, his pen poised over the sheet of blank vellum.

For all intents and purposes Athadan appeared the careful courier, noting in his daily log the number of posts he had delivered: from which ship he had received them, to whom they had gone and from whom they had been sent, all indexed in a neat manner under the day and date. The only glaring error, had anyone looked closely or followed up on the notations in this required routine, being that often letters or messages ‘disappeared’ only to be delivered much later than the date on which he had received them. All such omitted entries were discreetly ‘fixed’ by him to appear that nothing was amiss in the normal rhythm of the system.

Today, though, it didn’t matter. There had been no ‘items of interest’ as she and her mother had termed them. Nothing that needed ‘special handling’. Just the ordinary ebb and flow of message and response, waiting to be dutifully noted on the blank page for this day.

Instead the pen, almost as if of its own accord, drew bold strokes on the paper. Long, strokes cascading down from the finely drawn features of her face – her amber red hair, he imagined, his finger pressing lightly on the went ink to smudge in the deep shadows he recalled. And there, looking boldly out of her beautiful face were the blue eyes that had captured him with their daring glances . . . inviting . . . promising . . .

The nib of the pen scratched in a zig-zagged pattern through the pretty portrait he had drawn. Obliterating it for the most part, as he gave a long sigh. He had heard from those who had been present, of the death of Rhircyn. And had felt the power behind the beauty, the Dark Mother, as he thought of her. What had that man done to need being taken from the picture. Had he served his purpose in her . . . their scheme. Or had he had no purpose but was just an obstacle needing to be removed . . .

Promises of favors and monies and position aside, Athadan reminded himself that the only one he could really rely on was himself.

His gaze softened as he regarded her lips. They had escaped the marring of his pen, and he touched them now, softly. How often had he watched her, wanting to pluck a kiss from their bounty . . . His finger tapped lightly on the corner of them. Barely parted they seemed ready to curve into a smile . . . and yet, just hidden in the shadows of them lay the sharp edges of her teeth . . . danger couched in a pretty package . . . he must be careful . . .

The sound of footsteps wrenched him from his self indulgent reverie. He tore the inky page from the book and balled it up in his fist, throwing it carelessly in the wastebasket at the desk’s edge. The steps drew nearer, someone was calling his name. He straightened his tunic and stood up, turning to face the man who sought him.

It was Addruran. Something about a luncheon at Lady Pelien’s. Athadan would be required as part of the escort for the ladies who were to attend. Full dress uniform required.

Athadan made the pretense of checking his duty calendar, then smiled agreeably, saying he would be more than happy to have one of the lovelies on his arm. At Addruran’s questioning look, he added hastily.

‘Within the bounds of decorum and duty, of course . . .’
___________________________________________

At the luncheon . . .

Athadan was careful to keep a pleasantly neutral face as the conversation turned to news of Addruran’s impending promotion. The man was an insipid fool! he thought to himself. And that Adrama, she was no prize in his book. Once his family rose to their proper position, he would love to see her and her precious Addruran squirm under his boot heel.

He held himself in check as Addruran bragged on about Ecthelion’s note he was to deliver. So . . . that was the packet he had seen on Addruran’s cloak in the cloakroom . . . Resisting the urge to leave the table for a look at them, he sat back in his chair and nodded approvingly at Addruran, a smile of congratulation pasted on his face. ‘Well done, Addruran,’ he said in a pleasant voice. ‘I can scarce think of a better man to have the ear and gracious nod of the Steward. This is indeed a fortunate coup for you. Congratulations.’

It was well into the second course and what seemed like an unending exchange of pleasantries with his dining partners on each side when he thought of how he might excuse himself from the meal for a few moments to take a close look at Addruran’s supposed important note and confirm it for himself. The appetizer was done; the cold, fruited soup cleared away; the salad of crisp greens laid on the plate before him.

He sat back in his chair, and rubbed his temples with his fingers for a moment. Adrama had just picked up her salad fork as he leaned near her, a pained expression on his face.

‘If you will excuse me, for just a moment, m’Lady,’ he spoke in a low voice. ‘I am subject to dreadful headaches this time of year.’ She murmured some sympathetic words. He continued on. ‘The herbalist has given me a packet of powder to quiet them, and I’ve left it in my cloak. Please allow me to go take it, and I will be able then to enjoy the rest of this most pleasant meal.’

She dismissed him, making his excuses to the rest of the company. Telling him to hurry back. He took a glass of water with him and made for the cloakroom, noting with curiosity, the eyes that trailed after him.

Once in the cloakroom, Athadan assessed the area. No one was about, or so it appeared. And there on the cloak lay the tempting dispatch. The room was quiet, and close. No breath of air moved in it. Like an offering left to some god the letter beckoned him.

He reached out his hand toward it, when something caught his attention. A scuffling sound from behind one of the closed, latticed doors that opened into a closet he supposed, or a small storage room. Athadan moved his outstretched hand to his own cloak and reached into the pocket of it, pulling out a small twist of paper. He made a show of emptying the contents into his glass and stirring it quickly with his finger. Never mind it was only the leavings of some crumbly sweet he had jammed in there several days ago.

He drank the concoction slowly, rubbing at his forehead with his free hand, complaining loudly about his headache . . . and wasn’t it unfortunate that it should happen now in the middle of this pleasant party. ‘This room is so close,’ he complained, draining the liquid in a last gulp. He walked to the small window on the outside wall of the cloakroom and threw open the shutters, leaning out to breathe in the clean, cool air.

‘Ah, that will do,’ he said after a few moments. Athadan turned back toward the door and walked quickly back toward the dining room. Leaving his now empty glass in the hands of a passing servant. He smiled and nodded at Adrama and resumed his seat at the table, falling easily into the inane babble of polite conversation.

_____________________________


The luncheon concludes . .

‘Shall we walk in the gardens for a while,’ he heard one of the ladies say. His eyes brightened at the opportunity and he murmured how pleasant that would be. ‘I have heard the grounds are lovely,’ he said, in agreement.

The party rose, and he offered his arm to the lady on his left. ‘Shall I get your cloak for you, m’Lady,’ he asked, a note of concern for her in his voice. She smiled prettily at him and told him which one it was, saying she would wait for him with the others. He hurried off.

Athadan had been thinking hard during the last of the insufferably long meal, wondering if this was some sort of trap laid to catch him. Still, they had seemed sincere enough in their talk about the message. And Addruran, that bragging pomp, had appeared his usual self-important self in talking about it. ‘I have to see for myself,’ he thought to himself. ‘If it is at all true, then this could be my hour to claim what is mine and my family’s.’

He entered the cloak room and made the pretense of looking about for the lady’s cloak. The window was still open he noted, and he moved nearer it as he picked up her wrap. His free hand snaked out in a quick move, snatched up the letter, and stuffed it in the band of his breeches.

The two guards hidden in the closets of the room burst out at him.

At the one nearest him, he threw the cloak, entangling the man’s head and arms in it, slowing him down. The second man did not fare as well. Athadan drew his knife from his boot and threw it at the guard, hitting him in the arm. Then, picking up his sword laid neatly near his own cloak, he hit the man hard with the flat of the blade on the side of the head, bringing him to his knees.

The first guard had recovered by then and dove for him, his blade meaning to lay him low. Athadan swung hard at him, beating him back; then made the quick, short dash to the window and landing hard on his feet in the dirt below, went running for the exit to the grounds . . .

[ September 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Everdawn]

Vieana had taken more pride in their appearance that morning than usual. Partly a side of Vieana wanted to show up Lady Pelien for being so cruel to Finduilas, and partly because she wanted to see how sweet she had to be before the man Brigon would be civil to her. Or at least notice the charm that the sister of her house were known for (besides their notorious practices of spreading tales) as they were in the same, carbon copies of each other with slight variations.

Vieana thought herself lucky, both Elen and Averyll had rejected the maid Lessawen's offer of dressing them that day, which Vieana happily snapped up. After two and a half hours, with their combined effort of Lessawen and herself, they had produced a rather stunning version of the Lady Vieana. Her hair was waved and put up and held in by a silver circlet depicting the Swan of Dol Amroth. And her gown was of light blue.

Vieana emerged from her room down the stairs to the sitting room to find that Averyll and Elen were very skilled and looked equally as impressive. "Well, the show must go on!" Vieana cried as she saw them. "Indeed" agreed Averyll pulling form the cupboard a light bonnet. "I think we will be late if we wait any longer!" Elen fussed when she saw the carriage waiting.

Pelien met them at her dor, and to Vieana's surprise, she was very kind.
Curiouser and curiouser. she spoke to herself as Pelien told them of what they were invited for.

“I thought as much!” Vieana exclaimed to her two companions. It was at that moment that they were met by the men. Brigon looked in surprise at her. And Vieana smiled (not willingly). She held her head high and said nothing. She was forced to sit across form him at lunch, and while she did her best to ignore him she spoke mostly to Adrama. Vieana had realised that she had quite misunderstood this girl, And she hoped that there would be new friendships there, she had wanted to make new friends while in Minas Tirith but had been unable to due to Finduilas. “You see, My husband had not wanted me to come here for so long at least, I came to study medicine. My husband’s father the General, thought it was a grand idea, so poor Dardanir lost out. And it was ever so lucky for me that Finduilas was betrothed at such a convenient time for me, so I came with her. Its true I have been met with some horrible people” she paused looking at Brigon. “Mostly it has been fine.”

Later Averyll suggested that the all take a walk in the garden. Smart little vixen, I wonder what she is playing at? She must be killing herself inside. He really doesn’t seem that bad, at least I don’t think so. She smiled on the outside. He then offered to find Averyll’s cloak. Vieana had tuned out to most of the conversation as she walked beside Elen and Adrama. Adrama really was like the Dol Amroth women. Vieana’s gaze moved to beyond the courtyard. “Look at that view!” she exclaimed walking over for a closer look. She must have stood there longer than she had thought because a minute later there was frenzied shouting from the house. She spun around in time to see Athadan land from a nearby window. Her jaw dropped. “So it was him!” she said as Athadan ran straight past her. Do something! she told herself. There were now guards covering all the grounds. “There he goes!” she called to them. “Go back inside lady where it is safe!” one called to her. And so she did.

[ September 29, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[Nurumaiel]

As Athadan ran past the ladies, Adrama, who had been standing in his path, explaining Addruran's conduct to her new friends, was shoved aside and knocked over. Elen was quicker than Adrama's fall, though, and caught her as she fell. Adrama stood up straight and murmured some words of thanks. From the door of their house the guards from inside were running out. Addruran jumped out the window, taking the same path as Athadan. He did not pause as he passed the ladies, but they heard him say as he passed, "I apologize about the rude exit."

Vieana couldn't resist a smile at that, and she turned to Adrama, saying, "All your words couldn't explain that he was acting before as well as that one sentence." But then her smile faded as she saw Adrama's face. It was deathly pale, and if it hadn't been for Elen, whose hands were still on Adrama's arms, the girl would have fallen. "Adrama, what's wrong?" Vieana asked, concern on her face and in her voice.

Adrama spoke without any emotion, staring off into the distance as if she were far away. "The spy was armed," she said.

Lady Averyll immediately saw what was wrong. Taking Adrama's hand, she clasped it warmly and reassuringly. "Don't worry, Adrama. Addruran will be all right. He's brave and he has a lot of sense."

Adrama looked as though she hadn't heard. Elen gave the other two ladies a look, and they led the girl inside.

Addruran raced after Athadan, taking careful note that the latter had a sword and would be obliged to use it. He knew that the spy didn't stand a chance of escaping. Due to the careful planning, the house was completely surrounded by Minas Tirith guards, and it was only a matter of them closing in. But what Athadan would do when he saw he was trapped, Addruran did not know. It would be dangerous. And he was armed only with a small dagger, for at the unexpected and crazy escape of the spy, he had had no time to retrieve his weapon.

"Close in!" he called, waving his hand. Gesturing to the guards behind him, he had them form the back of the circle. Athadan stopped his mad run when he saw the guards emerging from their hiding places in front of him, and turned slowly in a circle. A cornered animal is dangerous, but a cornered man can be just as dangerous. Addruran was now within a few feet of Athadan, and he did not see the latter's hand grip his sword tighter.

Addruran paused where he was, taking in the matter with careful consideration, while keeping Athadan within his vision. However, he was not expecting the spy to suddenly rush at him, and though he sprang back, the sword of the enemy grazed his arm. His dodge had caused him to lose his balance, and he fell backwards to the ground. Two of the guards in the circle had already broken forward and were running towards Athadan. The spy attempted to stab Addruran through where he lay, but the young man rolled aside and then dived forward, catching Athadan around the knees and bringing him to the ground. Then, jumping up, he kicked the sword from him and stood back as the guards took the matter into their own hands. "Thank you," Addruran said with a little nod to the guards who had rescued him. "We should take him to Ecthelion now."

"But, sir, you're wounded. You should go back to the house."

Addruran looked at his arm and shook his head. "No, I'll go with you," he said. "It isn't a bad wound. Fortunately I had the time to jump back, otherwise I could be dead. But this won't keep me from going to Ecthelion."

"Yes, it will," Sador, who had come up behind them, said in a firm voice. "It may not be bad at the present, but if you just let it bleed things will get worse." He saw an annoyed expression come onto Addruran's face, and he smiled. "Besides, I think you'll find Adrama is anxiously waiting for you."

Addruran's eyes lit up. "Ah yes, I forgot that I had something to ask her about."

Sador grinned and, taking Addruran's arm, led him back to the house. When they entered the parlor, Adrama sprang up from her chair with a cry and stepped forward. "Oh, Addruran, you're safe," she said. "But, what's this?" She stared at his arm. "Athadan hit you?" She looked at him inquiringly.

"No, I tripped on a stone and fell on a sword lying on the ground," he replied with a faint smile. Realizing how foolish her question had been, she smiled back and led him over to the couch. She sat back on a chair opposite him, gazing at the wound. "I don't know how bad it is," she said with a helpless sigh. "So I don't know what to do."

"It isn't bad," Vieana said, advancing forward. "As long as we do something about it and he doesn't lose too much blood, he'll be perfectly all right."

"But I don't know what to do."

Vieana smiled slyly. "I'll see if I can help," she said, a prompting tone in her voice. Adrama stared at her for a few minutes, then a wide smile came to her voice. "I came here to study medicine and I might not be an 'expert' yet," Vieana said, "but I think I can handle this little scratch well enough. It seems like anyone should," she added with a glance at Adrama. "I suppose you've never seen anyone wounded before, since you seem so helpless."

"Well, I suppose I've seen people wounded," Adrama replied. "But I've never had to do anything about it."

So Vieana tended to Addruran's wound while he related to everyone present in the room, who had not seen the capture of Athadan, what had happened. Adrama was moved by his bravery but couldn't help chiding him for putting himself in such danger. After all, she told him, if the guards were closing in on Athadan there was no need for Addruran to run right up to him.

When had had finished telling the story, he turned a deep shade of red and averted his eyes from Adrama's face. "Adrama... If I may, would you allow me to talk to you later after the guests leave?" he asked. "I have something important to... tell you."

"Ask, not tell," Sador grumbled to himself, and left the room.

[Novnarwen]

"No, I'll go with you," Addruran said, "It isn't a bad wound. Fortunately I had the time to jump back, otherwise I could be dead. But this won't keep me from going to Ecthelion." he continued.

"Oh, yes, it will," Sador assured him. Sador hadn't been able to follow the whole episode, however, as long as the spy was under arrest Sador was happy. "It may not be bad at the present, but if you just let it bleed things will get worse." Addruran grew annoyed by this statement coming from Sador, but understood when Sador mentioned Adrama; and her being worried.

"Ah yes, I forgot that I had something to ask her about." Addruran said while making big eyes. "Come," Sador said leading the young man back and into the house.

Adrama sprang at once towards them. It was obvious that she was worried. She gave a cry: "Oh, Addruran, you're safe." she paused. "But, what's this?" She looked at Addruran's wounded arm. "Athadan hit you?"

Addruran explained to her how he had tripped over a stone and how he had fallen over a sword laying on the ground. Adrama wasn't sure what to do with the wound and did express herself in that way.

"It isn't bad," One of the other ladies claimed. Sador believed it was someone named Vieana. "As long as we do something about it and he doesn't lose too much blood, he'll be perfectly all right," the lady continued.

Sador watched while the lady came forwards showing how to treat Addruran's wound.

Addruran was eagerly telling his story to the others in the room, while Adrama was giving faint smiles. She hadn't thought it a good idea for her loved one to run after Athadan, when some guards where doing the same thing. She admired his bravery, though.

Suddenly it came to Addruran's face a sign of joy. "Adrama... If I may, would you allow me to talk to you later after the guests leave?" he asked in a low and gentle voice. "I have something important to... tell you." he added.

Sador grinned. "Ask, not tell," he told Addruran while walking out of the room. Sador grew happy by the thought of Addruran marrying his sweet daughter. In fact, he thought it was a splendid idea. No other man would fit better for his daughter than this young, handsome and polite man. Though, he wondered what his dear wife Pelien would think of this....

[Child of the 7th Age]

Alaklondewen's post

While her guests were moving out to the gardens, Pelien stayed behind to give Rummel orders about cleaning up and the possibility of wine afterwards, but before she could explain herself thoroughly, voices broke out from the cloak room causing Pelien’s heart to jump into her throat. It’s happening! It’s happening! At first her body was frozen, unknowing what she should do or precautions she should make. Then slowly the hostess, with Rummel at her side, peeked around the dining room doorway. She was unable to see directly into the room from where she stood but the soldier who had been knocked to his knees was in her line of vision. As soon as she heard someone cry that Athadan had leaped from the window, Pelien, relieved he was out of her house, scurried down the hall to aid the kneeling soldier.

As she neared the room, the blood coming from the man’s arm was first seen by Pelien and she gasped. “Oh dear, you’re injured! Let me help you up.” The young man shook his head, saying that he was fine and that it was only a minor cut, and then preceded to get up from his spot on the floor. Shouting was heard coming from outside, and the soldier quickly excused himself and rushed toward the commotion.

Pelien let her eyes fall to where she found the young soldier. A moment later, she cried out…a large smear of blood was on her rug. The color drained from her face as she fell to her knees.

“Rummel, quick! We must get this out before it sets!” Pelien wrung her hands as she waited for Rummel to return. She didn’t want to touch the stain, but she was anxious to have it removed.

Rummel arrived shortly with a bucket of hot water and several rags. As the girl sat over the rug scrubbing, Pelien suddenly remembered what was transpiring around her, and after her moments of insanity, the older woman pick up her skirts and hurried out to the gardens through the kitchen door. When her eyes saw Sador, she sighed a sigh a relief and slowed her step. As long as her husband was uninjured, and her daughter as well, Pelien could accept the rest.

[ October 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eckthelion paced nervously about the guardroom striding from one window to the next and absentmindedly staring out as he waited for his soldiers to appear with their prisoner in tow. Surely, by now, he should have heard some word of how the luncheon had fared and what had happened to the three gentlemen who'd been invited to Sador and Pelien's house.

This whole thing was not without risk and, on the whole, the Steward preferred to take a safer path, leaving daring rescues and bold attacks to those like Thorongil who seemed to have more heart for it. Still, he'd felt there was very little choice in this matter. Weighing the odds on whether to attack the Corsair fleet in distant Umbar was one thing. Making that same decision in regard to a traitor found in the midst of his own court was quite another.

The Steward's reveries were interrupted by a determined knock on the door as a guard stepped hastily inside, his face flushed and excited, "Sir, they're coming...from across the plaza. A band of twelve guards escorting a single prisoner."

"And the prisoner? What livery does he bear?" The Steward's voice was calm, belying the torrent of emotion that raged underneath.

"Sir..." The guard hesitated and then went on. "He wears the livery of Gondor. The black and silver uniform and an emblem emblazoned with the tree and seven stars."

Eckthelion sighed and winced, refusing to meet the eyes of the guard. With difficulty he asked the second question, "And can you tell who this soldier is?"

The guard nodded and whispered, "Athadan, sir. It's Athadan."

By this time, the escort was marching down the hall with the prisoner safely ensconced in chains. The soldier at the head of the column stepped forward and barked out, "Pernell, here. Reporting on behalf of Captain Addruran."

At this last pronouncement, the Steward glanced up with a startled look as he noted Addruran's absence. Pernell's words of assurance immediately came bounding back, answering Eckthelion's unspoken query, "Oh, no, sir. He's fine. The captain, I mean. His wounds are being tended now, and he should be up and about shortly."

"Good, then," came the brisk response. "Station three of your men outside the door and take the rest back to their barracks. Give them the afternoon off for a job well done."

"And the prisoner?"

"Take off his chains. Then I will deal with him in here."

"But, sir...."

"None of that, now. The man is unarmed. And I have my sword and dagger."

"But the men of Umbar possess tricks of sorcery..."

Eckthelion cut him off abruptly and stared Athadan directly in the eye. "This is no man of Umbar. No practitioner in the dark arts. This is a citizen of Gondor who finds himself on a bleak, unfortunate path."

With that, the guard did as he was bid, leaving Athadan seated in the guardroom and closing the door behind him. Eckthelion stood and walked to the window, staring out across the city. "Your own deed has condemned you. Tell me, what shall I do? What does justice say in such a case?"

There was no answer from the tall young man with black hair and a thick black moustache who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

Hearing only silence, Eckthelion continued, "Justice would call for you to go in front of a firing squad of your peers. For you have betrayed them, as much as you have betrayed me and the state that you serve."

"Sir, please, I..."

"No, I already know what you would say. You would tell me that you were misled and that you have no grievance against myself or the people of Gondor."

"But, sir, it is true."

"Indeed, I know it is true. I have found out enough of you and your family to glimpse something of the truth. There was no great evil. No hatred of our people. No love of the Corsairs. Only the little things that get in the way for all of us. A desire for wealth, distinction and power, perhaps also a woman with honeyed lips who promised more with her eyes than ever came to you."

At this last comment, Athedan found his breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The steward quickly retorted, "So my words have found their mark, especially the latter. I am not surprised."

"Well, Athadan. I have a bargain for you. A bargain that can earn you your life again and some small measure of respect, if you agree to my terms. First, you will do as I say so that we may lay a trap to ensnare this lady and her family. For they are vipers that must be wholly obliterated.

Secondly, once you have carried out this ruse, I will make alternate arrangements for your employment. I have a company of soldiers serving on the northern border of Mordor in the shadow of the mountains. These are honest lads who have the hardest task among my soldiers, to stand and watch as the shadow grows ever darker and warn us if an attack should come. You will serve there as they do for a good five years."

"And then?"

"Then you will be free to go and live your own life with no stain upon your head or that of your family."

"You will do this then?"

Athadan greedily shook his head, glad to sign any bargain that would give him his life and, even more, allow him to strike back against the silver-tongued vixen who had put him in this fix.

"My aides will instruct you as to the details and also secure a full list of your contacts." The Steward rose to go, but then stopped and spoke again to the soldier, "One last thing. Just so you never forget. You will be carefully watched from this moment forward. I am not so trustful as that. And if I ever see the slightest reason to suspect you, I will tell your comrades what you have done to betray those with whom you serve. I will not have to execute you. For I have little doubt that they will arrange for your death and in a most unplesant way. But for now, I will simply tell the other guards that a grievous error has been made, and you are innocent. See that I do not have to tell them anything else."

With that, Eckthelion rose and left the room, as the aides came in to question and instruct the prisoner.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Emilia frowned to herself slightly, taking care not to create wrinkles. It was most vexatious that Finduilas had not appeared at the luncheon. It was past time that Emilia should have made herself known to her- best regards, any aid in a foreign city and so on. Finduilas, it would appear, was the future and had to be cultivated. That younger sister of hers was no help whatsoever, a young hoyden. Emilia had felt worn out after a few minutes talk with her. Surely soon she would get her chance.

The best part of the lunch had been the fact that there were plenty of male escorts to go around. Emilia had been in high demand,that was natural. Thenidir had come to pay his respects- perfectly polite on the surface but his lips had lingered on her hand.

Perhaps after all, he would be the best choice? Men like Beren simply bored her. Thenidir had sent her a note asking to accompany her to the next ball, and while he didn't have the position she had hoped for, anything was possible in the future. After all, her part in the Dryea affair would stand her in good stead as regarded influence. Perhaps the steward would support her first child? Especially if it was a son. Life looked bright.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Save for anyone:

[Nurumaiel]

Nuru's post

When the Dol Amroth ladies had let, Adrama took Addruran by the sleeve and drew him away from her mother and father, into the garden, where she leaned against a tree and sighed softly, looking at the blossoming flowers of many different colors with a dreamy yet perplexed expression. Addruran stood where he was, surveying her fondly, but he was also concerned. Something was greatly troubling her.

"Addruran, I must talk to you," she said at last, turning her brown eyes to him. "I'm so very confused, and I wish you would help me see the truth."

"What is it that troubles you?" Addruran asked her.

"Finduilas... and Denethor. Addruran, I don't hate Finduilas any longer, and I don't... I don't love Denethor." Her voice broke, and her head sunk so her face could not be seen. There was a silence, then Addruran heard the sound of muffled sobs. He leapt forward and took both her hands and held them without saying a word. A few minutes passed, then her sobs ceased and she looked up at the sky, her face still and peaceful.

"That should not trouble you, Adrama," said Addruran, still holding her hands. "Not your hate of Finduilas being gone. But... it must be hard to realize that your love for a man you always had loved is gone." He spoke those words more stiffly, for the one he loved he still loved, and he was not able to understand her feelings. He did, however, perceive that it must be hard.

Her tear-filled eyes turned from the sky to his face and a soft smile came to her lips. "Oh, Addruran, I don't know what I would do without you. Sometimes I was tired of living, but I kept hope, because I kept thinking of you. You've been my best friend since childhood, and..." She stopped, and looked away. "I suppose," she said, taking her hands from his and stepping back a few steps, "that friendships of that sort can't last forever."

Addruran made no answer, but if the girl could have seen his heart, she would have wished she had never spoken. So then, Sador was not right. Not only was it that she did not love him, but she did not even want him as a friend. And if he could have seen her heart, he would not have given up hope. For she was certain that he would not forgive him for the cruel way she had been treating him the past few months, and she felt lost, and without a care in the world, for she felt all her love was in vain.

"Do you need me anymore?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and friendly. But if he hadn't the control over his emotions, he would have wept then.

"I suppose if you'd like to go, you might," Adrama said, her eyes still averted from his. He turned to go, but suddenly she gave a cry and ran after him, catching his sleeve. He turned, staring at her in confusion, and she burst into tears. However this time he did not try to comfort her. His confusion was too great. Why did she weep?

"Addruran, you want to go," she sobbed, "but how am I ever going to let you?" Then she could speak no further and simply sobbed, still clinging to his sleeve.

Addruran threw away all doubts. He didn't care what she said. He had long wished to say it to her, and he would now, no matter what her answer may be. "Adrama," he said firmly, so firmly that, startled, she checked her sobs with a little gasp. "Adrama, I must go to Ecthelion now, but I will ask you something before I go... will you, someday, even if it is years and years from now, wed me?"

There was a silence, and she stared at him. "But after what I... you.... I don't..." Then she stopped, blushed, and, laughing softly, ducked her head, murmuring, "Yes."

"How soon?"

"As soon as you wish."

He took her hand and kissed it, and as he did so, Pelien came out into the garden. She started when she saw it, but then calmed herself a little, thinking it was very natural for a man to kiss a lady's hand in greeting or parting. Addruran then turned and left, nodding at Pelien as he passed. Adrama stepped up to her mother, with more fear than Addruran had shown. Had her mother heard the words between them?

"Adrama, a letter for you has just arrived," Pelien said, gazing at her daughter curiously. She handed a small, thin letter over. Adrama took it and opened it, reading it quickly. Her eyebrows raised, and she put it in her pocket with a perplexed frown. "What is it?" Pelien asked. "You look concerned, daughter."

"It is a letter from Alethea," Adrama replied. "She says she would like to meet with me again. And from her letter, she sounds very worried about... something." Pelien did not notice the hesitation before the last word Adrama spoke. In truth, Adrama suspected what it was that Alethea was concerned about. "I will go to meet her at once, if you don't mind, Mother."

"No, you may go," said Pelien vaguely, but as Adrama turned to go in, she paused her daughter. "Adrama, I cannot help but ask. What was it that Addruran said to you?"

Adrama paled and hesitated, then, her eyes fiery, she straightened up and said, "He asked me to marry him, Mother, and... and I told him I would."

Alak's post

"He asked me to marry him, Mother, and... and I told him I would.” Adrama stood before her mother with solid determination knowing well that Pelien would not approve of this marriage engagement.

Pelien caught her breath and tried to remain as calm as she could while concealing her shock. How had this happened? Surely, Adrama was not seriously going to marry Addruran. There had been strong chemistry that was visible between the young man and Adrama, but after all of these years of hoping her daughter would marry the future Steward, Pelien didn’t know if she could accept another man as her son-in-law.

“You told him you would marry him without even asking for my consent or at least a hint that this was coming?” Pelien’s voice was full of accusation as she stared into her daughter’s eyes. Adrama should have asked for her mother’s permission in this matter, and anger was rising in Pelien’s chest as she thought about being left out of this delicate process.

“Mother, I am an adult…I do not need your permission to marry Addruran, and for the record, I did not know myself that he was going to propose.” Adrama spoke slowly and softly seeing the resentment in her mother’s face. This was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life, and she didn’t desire to feel the brunt of Pelien’s fury. “I’ve realized I love him, and I intend on marrying him.”

“But Adrama, he’s not good enough for you. You…you’re fit to be the Steward’s wife, why…”

“But you forget, Mother, the Steward already has a wife. He has made his choice, and I have made mine.” Pelien was taken aback by Adrama’s interruption and the seriousness of her tone.

“I see…I still feel that you should reconsider your decision. What if you tell him you need more time to think? Then we can talk about this when emotions are not so…high.” Pelien reached out and touched Adrama’s arm gently. All she wanted was for her daughter to think this marriage through before she jumped into something she’d regret for the rest of her life. Maybe if the girl could be stalled, Pelien could change her mind…make her realize her mistake.


Nuru's post

The words had gone on long enough. Adrama knew her mother was weakening, that her mother was beginning to like the idea, but even so, she was not going to listen to these arguments anymore. "I will marry Addruran, Mother," she said firmly. "I will marry him, whether you give your consent or not." Glancing over her mother's shoulder, Adrama saw that her father, attracted by the loud words, and come to the garden door and was lingering in the background, listening to what was being said.

"Adrama..." Pelien began.

"Addruran is a brave man, as you yourself saw today," Adrama said, not caring that she was interrupting her mother. "He is loyal to his land and is not afraid of losing his life defending it."

Pelien made no answer, and gave Adrama the time she needed. The girl swept past her mother towards the door, yet paused when she came to Sador. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Bless you, my girl. I know you two will be happy together." Tears of gratitude filled Adrama's eyes, and she put her arms around Sador's neck, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Father," she murmured, and then she departed.

As she walked through the streets, her heart was singing, but a shadow was also cast over it. Her joy would be perfect if her mother approved. Adrama knew deep down that her mother did approve of it, but if she could only have her word!

Adrama arrived at the garden and found Alethea standing by the gate, pacing back and forth in nervous anxiety. Adrama hurried forward to greet her. Alethea turned to her, her eyes filled with sorrow, and said, "Adrama, I must talk to you. Things are so horrible!" Her voice dropped lower. "There's something I must tell you."

Adrama took her hand and said in a reassuring voice, "I know what it is, Alethea."

"You know?" Relief and surprise were in Alethea's voice. "Oh, but how could you possibly know? Everything has been planned so carefully, and..."

"You don't need to worry about it," Adrama said crisply. "You're the spy, and that's that. We can't do anything about it now."

Alethea looked shocked. "Oh no, Adrama, that's not it at all!" she cried. Disbelief spread over Adrama's face.

Arien's Post

Alethea hesitated a few moments more, and then she began to speak as the two began to walk through the Gardens.

"I am not the spy, nay. But I did have some work in the treachery. You know about it?" Adrama nodded her head. So if she knew the others did as well. Alethea thought of Dryea snug in false security.

Oh, how she would relish the moment that her sister would fall from grace and her mother with her.

"I," Alethea voice faltered a little but she kept speaking, "I am the spy's sister." She looked across to Adrama. Her face held an expression of shock.

"Dryea, but..." she started.

"Yes it is she. Her poisons have entered your minds and numbed them. No one could ever guess that it was she. Her air of innocence and her sweetness is too good to be true." Alethea stopped and looked to Adrama. If her sister were false would she believe that their friendship was an act too? She looked towards Adrama again for reassurance but her eyes looked ahead.

"But..." started Alethea.

"Yes?"

"You must know that our friendship is not a fake!"

"I would never have thought such a thing; or at least I hope it was not."

"And even though they tried to make me use you, I never did. I could never do it."

Adrama smiled, "Thank you." She spoke softly. Alethea was relived that Adrama believed her. If her only friend would not then Alethea would have been distraught. "But tell me something, Alethea. Why never before have you told me or anyone in fact about your sister's deceitfulness?"

"It was not only Dryea, my mother as well. I loved them; they were my family. I could not do that to them. But with recent goings on I could not bare it anymore. They went even as far as to kill!" Alethea finished exasperatedly.

"To kill?" Asked Adrama shocked, "But who?"

"Rhir," Alethea replied solemnly.

"But Dryea... he?"

"I know, but I do not know which one of them did it."

They talked for a while more and Alethea revealed everything to Adrama about their false life in Gondor and their real heritage. About the plot to shame Finduilas and her arguments with Dryea. Adrama was so understanding and Alethea was shocked to come into contact with such a warm heart; after all the coldness she had received at home.

"But I know not what to do," Alethea finished finally.

Adrama paused, "You must go to someone. Eckthelion perhaps?"

"Yes I will," Alethea said firmly. She could not have faith in the fact that she was going to tell him. But what would happen to her? If Dryea was caught and her mother, surely she would be caught with them. She had been a part of these lies and deceit. And even if she had not controlled it she still had had the power to turn them in. And if she was not punished, then what? She no longer had a family, and could the people of Minas Tirith or even Gondor trust her again?

But she must tell him; it was certainly the right thing to do. After a quick farewell to Adrama she made her way back to the Estate to get ready for the ball.

[ October 02, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[ October 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eckthelion looked over at his family and smiled. His two daughters, each with their own personalities and gifts, and the young lady Finduilas who was soon to join their family. He'd already made his private apologies to Siriel for not believing her first warning when she had first observed that something was wrong. It was not a mistake he would make again. He leaned over and hugged her, whispering a few words in her ears. Then he turned to acknowledge Tiriel and the Lady Finduilas.

Denethor walked forward and quietly pulled his father to the side, "It is set up then?"

"Perfectly!" His father observed. "And I expect that, by the end of this evening, many will come and pay their respects to your wife-to-be who have not done so before."

Denethor stiffened and looked as if he was about to object, but then pulled back and remained quiet. Even he realized that there were times when the best thing to do was to accept a change with grace.

The family walked together down the corridor and into the state ballroom, with the footpad announcing their arrival. A number of Gondorians turned and bowed or waved their hands in acknowledgment. The musicians struck up a tune, as Denethor leaned over towards the Steward and whispered, "What shall we do now?"

Eckthelion turned to face him with the look of a gracious hostess. "Please, everything is under control. Carry on as you would normally do. Surely you will ask your fiancee for a dance?"

Denethor nodded his head and turned back towards Finduilas, "Lady, will you give me the honor?" He held out his hand and she took it in her own as the two of them stepped out into the center of the ballroom, and, locked in each other's arms, whirled about the floor.

[ October 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[alaklondewen]

“They look good together, don’t they?” Sador leaned his head toward Pelien without taking his eyes off Adrama and Addruran who were gliding across the dance floor. Pelien didn’t reply. The couple sat sipping wine at one of the several tables that lined the outer walls of the grand hall, and even though the party was for Denethor and Finduilas, Pelien and Sador had their minds on another engaged couple. Sador had supported the engagement from the beginning, but Pelien was still coming around to liking the idea. A marriage would mean parties and a lot of planning, especially for the bride’s mother. The only drawback was that Pelien hated admitting defeat, so she was still partly hesitant about giving Addruran her complete support, but she knew eventually she would. “Look at our little girl…isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is.” Pelien reached across the table and took hold of Sador’s hand and squeezed it. “Oh Sador, what are we going to do?”

For a moment, Sador just looked at his wife with an expression that relayed the seriousness of the question, but then he relaxed and a broad smile spread across face. “We join them.” Pelien, confused at what her husband meant, tilted her head to one side with her eyebrows drawn together. Laughing at his wife’s expression, Sador continued, “…on the dance floor.” With that he stood and bowed to his wife before offering his hand. Pelien hesitated a few moments and then slipped her long slender hand into her husband’s hand, and the couple stepped out onto the floor.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Novnarwen's post

“Oh Sador, what are we going to do?”

Pelien acted like expected; sad that her dear Adrama wouldn't marry the Steward but this Addruran. Sador hesitated. What to do, he thought. The answer was clear. They couldn't do anything, it wasn't really their business. If Adrama wanted to marry Addruran and they loved each other, then.. well...

“We join them.” Sador said after a moment of silence. “…on the dance floor,” the man continued. His wife looked oddly at him, as if he was making a joke of all this. Sador however, stood up, took her hand gently and bowed before he lead Pelien onto the floor.

Sador looked over at Adrama and her husband to-be (hopefully). He realised how happy the was for her, that she had finally found the one. Sador was also proud. "Pelien," he said whispering in her ear. "They do look wonderful together," he said nodding towards their daugher. Pelien gave a sigh. "But it wasn't meant to be..." she claimed.

"Ah well..Why not?" Sador said considering the situation carefully before asking this. He looked in his wife's deep eyes. "Don't you see? Adrama, our daughter was madly in love with Denethor, but she could still see Addruran. Which means in my opinion, that she practically saw this man when he was invisible." Sador swinged Pelien around. "And that is love, my dear wife. She saw him when she was in love with someone else."

Pelien didn't say anything, she just gazed at her husband, looking, searching; to find an answer to why he had said exactly this. Sador noticed the music stop, the dance was over....

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Everdawn]

Everdawn's post

Vieana, Averyll and Elen stood by the side of the dance floor watching Denethor and Finduilas dance. It was true that these times had been trying for the young women. "Well, im glad everything has turned out for the better." Vieana exclaimed. "I'm just glad at how clever I was." Averyll laughed. "You would" Elen remarked holding her wine glass loosly in her hand.

"Look, it's Tessa!" Elen said once again, pointing ot the other side of the room. "I was wondering about where she had gone off to..." Vieana said putting her hands on her hips awating the lengthy speech that she suspected was to come from her cheeky young friend. Instead Averyll held up her hand as she came. "We wanted to tell you." Tessa laughed and shook her head. "That was fantastic!" was all she said.

Vieana glanced at the dancing couples. Adrama smiled at her, and Vieana at her. "You know what, distinguished ladies of Dol Amroth?" she started. "I think that from now on, i will never make decisions about people before i see their true colours." She folded her arms. "Here, here" echoed Averyll from her side.

"Suppose we had never come to Minas Tirith, things might have turned out differently." Elen chimed, getting another glass of wine from a waiter. "Elen, lay off the wine a little, you may end up tipsy." Averyll laughed and made to take the glass of her, Elen backed off. "Thats exactly what i feel like doing! Ive earned it dont you say!"

"You are right Elen, drink up, I never thought in my wildest dreams that anyone would even try and attack Minas Tirith, i mean, especially now." A hand touched Vieana's back. "Neither did I." She looked around into the familliar scarred face of her husband Dardanir. "I wanted to tell you" Giggled Tessa mocking her. Behined Dardanir was a new number of Dol Amroth guards, all in Formal dress uniform, as well as Finduilas' Guard form the barracks.

"I have re-posted for the time being, until Finduilas is married of course. Captain Naian tells me that you have done a great favour to Gondor m'lady" He said smiling handsomly as he took Vieana hand and kissed it. "Why sir! So i am told by the Steward himself." She laughed and hugged him.

"Averyll was the onve who eventually found out who it was though." Vieana said turning to her friends. "You remember Dardanir, dont you." Dardanir bowed. "May I have this dance Lady Vieana."
"Why, certainly" she remarked smartly and took to the floor with her husband.

********************************************

Ealasaide's post

"Averyll was the one who eventually found out who is it was, though," Vieana said, smiling as she introduced her husband, Dardanir, to her friends. Averyll curtsied to her friend's husband and said she was glad to make his acquaintance. Then, as Dardanir whisked Vieana off to the dance floor, Averyll found herself on the sidelines again with Eleniel. She was used to it, having spent a year or so in mourning, but she still missed the feel of her husband's arm around her back as he spun her around the dance floor. Averyll sighed as her eyes found Lady Finduilas dancing, as well, on the arm of her husband-to-be.

"She looks so happy," murmured Averyll. She clasped her hands in front of herself, smiling at the young couple as they danced past. She felt pleased in her heart that she had been able to play her own small role in preserving Finduilas' happiness. With a little luck, Finduilas would have no more sadness in her marriage, having had so much to deal with so early on.

"Yes, they do look happy, don't they?" asked Elen, draining her wine glass. She had acquired a tipsy glow about her from all the wine and festivities. Averyll had heard her say a few minutes earlier that she had earned the right to a good time, and, in all honesty, Averyll believed Elen was right. She should be dancing! Turning to the group of new Dol Amroth guards just behind them, Averyll smiled at a handsome, dark-eyed young fellow, who seemed to have an eye for Elen. Walking over to him, Averyll winked.

"There's lovely young lady there, who - I have a feeling - would love to dance." She gestured to Elen, who was watching the dancing with a happy smile on her face. The young guard looked first surprised, then delighted. Averyll watched as, a moment later, he led a beaming Elen out on to the floor for the next dance. Averyll stepped back from the edge of dance floor, disappointed not to be dancing herself, but happy that all of her friends were happy. She was just drifting back in the direction of the buffet table, when she felt a hand gently catch her elbow.

"Lady Averyll, may I have this dance?" asked a familiar voice.

She turned and, for an instant, the breath caught in her throat. Then, a bright smile spread across her face. "Parris!" she exclaimed. "I thought you had sailed!"

Captain Parris merely smiled and shook his head. "We were planning to sail, but when I heard what was afoot here in Minas Tirith and what your part in it had been, I decided to stay an extra day." Averyll noticed that he was resplendent in the dress uniform of the Dol Amroth navy. She had never seen him looking so handsome and gallant.

"How could I miss the opportunity to dance with the lovely lady who unmasked the traitor?" he added with a courtly bow.

Averyll curtsied in return. "How could I refuse to dance with gentleman who did so much to help me unmask the traitor?"

"It was very brave of you to do what you did," Parris said quietly, leading her on to the dance floor. "You should have told me what you were about. Men like Athadan are not to be trifled with. You could have been hurt."

Averyll smiled. "You told me yourself that I should not be frightened of him, didn't you?"

Parris shook his head. "That was before I knew what was happening. You couldn't have trusted me?"

"No," Averyll leaned her head against his shoulder as they began to dance. "It was not my secret to share or keep. I was under the orders of none other than the Steward himself. I'm sure you can understand."

Parris said nothing, but Averyll could tell that he did understand. She closed her eyes, as his arm tightened slightly around her waist. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, as they glided smoothly around the dance floor. He was an excellent dancer. When Averyll opened her eyes again and looked up at him, she found him smiling at her.

"When are you coming back to Dol Amroth?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Definitely not until after the wedding. I suppose I shall stay as long as Finduilas needs me."

"What if you are needed by someone else?"

Averyll stopped dancing and took a step back from Parris, but he caught both of her hands in his. His grey-green eyes that reminded her so much of the sea twinkled at her.

"Are you saying that you might need me, Captain Parris?" asked Averyll playfully.

"That I am," he answered more solemnly than she had expected. "I am asking you to come back to Dol Amroth with me, Averyll. You are out of mourning now and free to do as you wish." He kissed her hands. "Will you have me?"

Averyll smiled at him gently, tears of happiness welling up in her eyes. "The last time I saw you, you only wanted to take me sailing."

"I've had time to think."

"And my son?" she asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

"I will love him as my own."

Averyll hesitated for only an instant, thinking of all the years she had known Parris, first as an associate of her father's and later on as the friend of her late husband. She had always felt an affection for him, and later, respect as she had gotten to know him better. True, he was a good deal older than herself, by at least fifteen years, but he was a good man. Now, she realized that the feelings she had for him had grown over time into something deeper than merely respect. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss on Parris' lips.

"When Finduilas is happily married, I will come back to Dol Amroth," she promised.

"For me?" he asked, the playfulness coming back into his voice.

"For you, Captain Parris," Averyll answered happily. "But only if you promise to take me sailing." With that, both of them broke into laughter. Parris took her back into his arms and the two of them rejoined the colorful flow of dancers moving in graceful circles around the dance floor.

[ October 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Arien]

Alethea sprawled out on her bed. Her head ached and she wasn’t sure she could face going to the ball tonight, but she would have to and anyway she had to go, as Eckthelion would be there. And it would be the best time to tell him. And betray her blood said the voice in her head.

“No,” she whispered. It was a battle; but she knew it was the right thing to do. Even if she did ever feel some love for her sister and mother, they were evil and they had to be stopped. Alethea was the only one who knew all. She pulled herself off the bed as she heard the voice of Meirelle.

“Alethea!” She called knocking at the door.

“Come in,” Alethea replied. The door clicked open, Meirelle entered and shut it behind her.

“Do you need any help to get ready?” She said setting down the dress she held in her hands on the chair closest to her bed.

“Yes, if you will.” Alethea replied walking towards her. She placed her hands on Meirelle’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Thank you.” She said faintly.

“For what?” Meirelle laughed nervously.

“For getting the letter to Adrama, and for not telling anyone about it. You didn’t, did you?” Meirelle shook her head and Alethea smiled. She would miss her. No doubt whatever happened their servants would either flee or taken to be punished. Alethea didn’t want Meirelle to receive any punishment; but she did not want to loose her also. She had been the closest friend she had had when she was younger.

Which was a poignant thought for her; but it was all she knew. Alethea washed and donned the dress Meirelle had brought in with her. It had been purchased especially for the occasion and was a deep silky crimson. The corset fitted snugly around her torso, and was tied tightly with a red matching ribbon at the back.

The front was covered in bursts of rubies and the skirt was a plain crimson silk, but it was layered thickly. On her feet she was delicate matching slippers. Alethea sat down at her dressing table and stared into the mirror as Meirelle did her hair. The girl laced red gems in and out of her hair and brushed it while Alethea swept her eyes with a crimson powder and placed red gems in the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were glazed and filled with tears but she fought them back and reassured herself that she was doing the right thing.

She thanked Meirelle and the two made their way down to the main entrance where Dryea waited. As Alethea walked down the stairs her sister gave her a smile. Alethea did not know why but it annoyed her. How could she smile at her? It made what Alethea was about to do even more unbearable. She nodded back, but wore no emotion of happiness. Their mother was not to join them tonight; but instead remained in her study.

A few brief words were shared between the three before they left; they were mostly of their behaviour but all through it Alethea could not bring herself to look at the two. Whether it was because of guilt or sheer hate she could not gather. The two left in silence and they did not talk on the way there. Alethea was glad of this, for she could barley face Dryea. Their carriage arrived promptly and the two entered the ball without a word to each other.

Alethea turned and saw the back of Dryea as she walked off. She stared for a moment until she felt a tug at her hand.

“Adrama!” She exclaimed turning to her friend.

“Alethea,” she smiled back, “the steward is over there.” She said pointing.

“I know…” Alethea replied looking at the Steward for a few moments.

“You are not having second thoughts are you?” Whispered Adrama.

Alethea shook her head; but the truth was she was having second thoughts. Could she really betray her mother and sister and all that they stood for?

“You must tell him,” Adrama said exasperatedly now looking towards the Steward also, “It is the right thing to do.”

Alethea nodded, “I will go, alone. I hope you do not…” Alethea said turning to Adrama. She shook her head and with and assuring look Alethea made her way to Eckthelion.

“My lord?” She said when reaching him. She curtsied and waited for his reply.

“Yes?” He said turning to Alethea, as he saw whom it was his eyes widened.

“May I speak to you?” Alethea glanced around, “In private if you will allow it?”

“Yes, yes of course.” The two left and entered the gardens surrounding the Stewards estate. As they walked the cold chilling wind blew through Alethea’s hair and a lost tear fell down her cheek.

“Well what is it that you whish to say?” asked the Steward, while looking up to the sky.

Alethea paused and then began, “You know of the spy?” He nodded, “The spy is my family.” She said blankly.

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I was brought news of it. Someone had heard an argument between yourself and your sister. That is how I know.”

“But you do not know it all!” She exclaimed, maybe he would make an incorrect judgement and condemn her. But was that not the right thing to do? After all if she had always been against the why had she not come forth before that? Before she knew it Alethea had launched herself to tell the Steward all she knew of her family’s plans.

“…but you must understand. I know I am not totally innocent; but I hate hat they are doing, and I always I have I was just too stupid to come forth before. Please can you forgive me? I am not asking you to pardon me from punishment, but I….” Alethea broke of, stray tears fell down her cheek and she looked up at the Steward.

He stopped walking and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Alethea, you were right to come to me. At least you did not hide. Because of this you will be granted safety here. Everyone shall know that you have done no wrong.”

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper into the frozen night.

[ October 07, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Maikafanawen's post

"Oh, just send them away," Dryea complained to Rheaite. The maid stood nervously by the door to the parlor room, waiting to accept the next person come to pay condolences to the grieving woman. 'They were engaged for but six hours,' they would exclaim. 'It couldn't have happened to a dearer girl.' Lady Morthaniawen squirmed with glee at their pitiful faces. She so loved putting on dramatics and watching people's reactions. It was possible that Dryea even over did some of her acts like bursting into tears at the slightest mention of some delicate subject and even resorting to throwing her glass of wine across the room and out the open window. Rheaite knew she was playing a wicked game with these people's hearts and it was all she could do from stopping her.

"My Lady," she said intrepidly after a Ms Dillirdyn and her two daughters of just down the Way had left Dryea to one of her particular outrageous fits. "If I'm not too bold, perhaps if you were less dramatic and more accepting and fallaciously thankful of these people's attempts to cheer you, your loss would be well-harbored in the citizen's own hearts." Dryea stood and turned to glare at her maid. In two strides she was towering over the young girl, her hand raised in mid-strike. A moment before the inevitable slap, there came a knock at the door. "Get it," Dryea hissed to the terrified Rheaite. "And do not mistake me for the weakling of a woman my sister is. I expect you to keep your place!" The maid answered the door, trembling violently and deathly pale.

"The Isindils are here to see Miss Dryea," the butler announced to Rheaite. "Are you alright Miss Rhe?" The maid, nodding fiercely at the butlers inquiry, relayed the message to Dryea.

"Ooh yummy!" the lady exclaimed nastily. "I was hoping they'd come." She took a seat on the settee adopting a rigid and uneasy position. "Show them in," she whispered excitedly. Dryea made her face lack and gave an overburdening grief stricken appearance to her eyes. Then silver tears streamed down her cheeks. Thus Mr. And Mrs. Isindil found her. Rhircyn's mother had also been crying.

When they entered, Dryea allowed them to see her uncomfortable state before she turned to see who they were. She summoned an even more pained expression to her face and stood slowly, making her way to Lady Amowiel. Nearly there she swooned and fell with a dainty thump to the floor.

"Quick!" Lord Gaenry said. "The poor girl's fainted!" Rheaite's anger bottled up inside of her as she ran for someone to 'help'. Lady Isindil knelt beside the girl and cradled her head in her lap, crying softly. Dryea's eyes fluttered and open. Then she too began to cry. Rheaite returned with Ruiel bursting in the lead followed by the butler and a serving girl balancing a glass of water and two pills on a silver tray.

The Isindils left soon after Dryea 'recovered'. They decided it was too soon to speak with her about their son. The young woman thanked them for coming and apologized for fainting. "It's quite all right my dear," Lord Gaenry said solemnly. "We understand." The house was gravely silent as the Isindils made their way out the doors and down the path to their carriage.

Then Rheaite started to cry out of anger and Dryea laughed at her. "Oh get out!" she yelled at the furious maid. Helpless, the girl left her mistress's company and ran down to the kitchens. Ruiel, after making sure her daughter was truly all right, absconded to her office.

"My Lady?" the new maid's voice rang like a bell as she prepared to announce the next visitor. The woman smiled, "Yes?"

"There's a Miss Elena here to see you." Dryea's expression went from surprise, to worry, to acceptance.

"Very well, show her in." Elena entered and looking pityingly at her friend. She walked over to the sofa where Dryea sat in her black dress and veil, pouring a cup of tea—she'd already had enough wine for the morning. After looking her friend up and down, she quickly determined that all was well with her and her reason for dropping in was sincere. There might have been a few questions she'd have been hoping to ask but after Dryea's 'act' she would think it better not to.

"How are you doing?" Elena whispered kindly, laying a hand on her friend's arm. Dryea took in a short quick breath and then sighed just as promptly and mournfully.

"All right, I guess," she muttered weakly. The discussion went well and Dryea kept the posing cloud of despair huddled about her snuggly and politely accepted the condolences that passed through. Once during their talk she even began to cry (again) and Elena embraced her comfortingly.

After an hour or so the student left without asking any of her curious questions, leaving Dryea in her peaceful misery. "That will do for today," Lady Morthaniawen announced. "I'll have no more visitors." She stood and took the pins out of her hat, setting it on the table by the settee. She walked over to the window and looked out over her gardens and at the slightly graying sky overhead.

"Lady Dryea," the maid said in her singsong voice. "Thy mother sends word. Ye are required to attend the ball held by his grace the Steward—" she paused to brush at her nose, Dryea laughed. "She wants ye to be ready by seven this evening." The woman nodded.

"Give my mother my accordance." Bowing, the maid left to do as Dryea bid. In lighter spirits at the girl's wise demonstration of loyalty, Lady Morthaniawen ventured up to her room on the East wing.

The dress for tonight was of midnight black silk: appropriate for her current situation. Woven here and there were dark blue flowers that emitted a pleasant fragrance. Even though the colors were dark and mournful, the style was definitely not so. It was of the latest fashion appropriately implied with lace up sleeves segmented into slight ruffles and a closefitting bodice atop a full skirt. A motif of black roses were embroidered throughout and gave it a regal appearance. "Simply splendid," Mari, Dryea's new maid, had described it. Lady Dryea thought so. It was simple enough to fit her grief-stricken condition, but splendid enough to keep her reputation of utmost majestic splendor encouraged. She finished off the ensemble with a velour ribbon tied around her slender neck in a choker fashion, plus a set of onyx earrings, bracelet and rings.

"Mademoiselle," Mari whispered in her ear after curling the last lock of auburn hair and letting it hang down her back. "You are the finest lady I've ever seen." Dryea beamed. Her hair was curled and let down except for a small portion that was pulled behind her ears and knotted in the back. This was covered by a stylish black cap adorned with a single black rose and some ebony net.

"Is the lady ready Miss Mari?" the butler inquired from without Dryea's chamber door.

"She'll be right along." Making sure she carried all the necessities to a corsair woman's outfit, including every mean of self-defense, Dryea allowed Mari to carry her black cloak, gloves, and fan to the door for her. Not long after, Alethea arrived to hear out Ruiel's final instructions.

"It's not that big of a deal girls," she informed, "but keep your eyes and ears open and stay on your best behavior." There was more and finally the two women boarded the carriage and were off to the citadel.

[Nurumaiel]

Adrama floated across the floor in a dream, thinking of all that had happened recently. The uncovering of the spy, Addruran, her argument with her mother, her talk with Alethea.... Smiling fondly, she glanced over across the dance floor where her mother and father were also dancing, happy and relaxed. Adrama had been so pleased when her mother had given consent to the engagement.

Adrama's eyes travelled to Denethor and Finduilas. Finduilas was quite relaxed in Denethor's arms, and she was dancing gracefully, looking very lovely that night. Her eyes were locked with Denethor's as they moved about the floor. "Addruran, would you mind if we went and said hello to Denethor and Finduilas?" Adrama asked. When Addruran gave her a questioning look, she blushed and her head dropped. "I've been rather awful to them recently," she explained, her voice filled with shame. "I'd like to make up for it."

Taking her hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze, Addruran led her across the dance floor, where he paused Denethor and Finduilas. The latter two looked at the couple inquiringly, and some concern flickered in Finduilas' eyes as she recognized Adrama as Pelien's daughter. Adrama saw it and took Finduilas' hand, blushing furiously. "I hope both of you will forgive my family," she said slowly. "I realize that you must have been rather bothered that my mother brought up those rumors, but I assure you her intentions were not bad. Perhaps, though, it was rather rude. But our intentions were not..." Realizing that she was repeating herself, Adrama bit her lip. "I have also been very foolish," she said. Her eyes strayed to Denethor's face, wondering what he would think of her if she said, but then she remembered Addruran's presence by her side, and that she didn't care what Denethor thought anymore. And she confessed how she had been hoping all the rumors about Finduilas were true so she, Adrama, might marry Denethor. In speaking of the latter, Adrama blushed a little, for it was hard to admit to Denethor's face that she had been in love with him, but she received no scornful looks.

"I'm sorry for that," Adrama said. "But you can thank Addruran I didn't join with the traitors who have been hiding here, for if he hadn't come and encouraged me I very well might have, whether from despair or hatred of you, I know not." She paused, then, looking first at Finduilas and then at Denethor, said, "I beg your forgiveness."

"And you have it," Finduilas said. "Tessa once met with your mother for tea, and when she returned she told me about you, saying she'd taken quite a liking to you. I myself have wondered greatly about you. You seemed very mysterious."

"Perhaps I hid my feelings because I knew deep inside I was ashamed of them," Adrama replied. "Thank you."

Denethor, seeing Adrama was uncomfortable, skillfully changed the subject. "So you are Addruran," he said. "I have heard about you. My father speaks highly of you, and tells me you played a large part in capturing Athadan, the spy. Thank you for your service."

"Thank you, sir," said Addruran, trying to hide his embarrassment. "We don't wish to interrupt your dancing anymore. Farewell." With a nod to Denethor and a little bow to Finduilas, Addruran took Adrama's hand and they began to dance again.

Dancing forward into my life, Adrama thought as she went over the familiar steps of the dance, falling into a dreamworld. She thought of the children she would raise, and how hard their life would be, yet so easy. She thought forward to the day when their first child would be born, and what joy would come with that day. And then their second, and their third, and so on. And when they were old, and they would have grandchildren to love, and then someday when they had great grand children, until at last they drifted away from this world. It would be a beautiful life, and the beginning of that wonderful and glorious life was now, when at last all had been resolved and all her fears and doubts had been left far behind as they danced on.

[ October 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]