©
2003 I. Chishti
Harsh Words At the Bridge
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Allowing her chin to be lifted, the plain elleth looks up into the Knight Warden's face with an almost emotionless face. "I, too, am glad Oerwen has decided to stay." As he lets his hand drop she keeps her face upturned and a slow smile parted her lips, "I was unable to attend you and Oerwen's betrothal, I do hope to be able to attend the wedding feast?" Her eyes were cast down again and she turns her face from his, "Perhaps, Light does vanquish dark, but look at the sky. The light of Ithil, the light from the stars, are all hidden by the dark clouds. At what time will the price of removing the darkness be too great? Time for the edhil on this shore is short, I know it, sometimes I feel as if it would be best all around to just sail, all of us. Leave this shore for the others."
From the small trail that leads to the Last Homely House comes a muffled sound, as if someone came singing toward the Bruinen's shore. Soon, a small dark figure can be seen walking slowly towards the bridge. Braldor comes, singing softly, almost for himself, as he walks in the night. His eyes look upwards, as some stars can be seen glinting among the clouds. Not noticing any of the present elves, he continues to sing to himself, as he walks, gaze upward.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
A sparkle appears in Vinyarod eyes and his smile grows to the point that his eyes seems to smile. For any of the first born the light which shines from deep within the ellon is well recognized as one of the bliss of bonding. "We intend a feast to celebrate the marriage, yes." he says, his sindarin words ringing as natures own music. "Ah, but consider this. If we sail and leave the responsiblity to the mortals, the darkness will indeed follow." he says while it's clear he's thinking more of Oerwen than he is the darkness. Lifting a hand and sweeping it upwards between them in an elegant motion, he says "We are the light and ..." he pauses and looks to the darkness along the path to the house. His smile fade and it seems he cringes slightly. "And there is a Dwarf. Can you hear that horid sound." he whispers in his native tongue.
Braldor stops suddenly as he hears the elven voices speaking in their tongue. TurNing his head this way and that, he finally spots the two talking figures in the darkness. He approaches them both, and says, "Mae govannen" with a smooth bow. Finally spotting who it is that is here (too late, maybe), Braldor stops. "Vinyarod... how fare ye this fair night?", he asks with a diplomatic tone of voice.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Smiling and willing to let the depressing matter of the ensueing darkness drop, Arinkalya begins to speak, "Yes, it will be a grand.." When another voice breaks through the darkness, and the one of the Glirdain wrinkling her sharply sloped nose. "One can not help but hear it. I have always said that song was beautiful no matter the talent of the singer...but that?" Her sleeves billows down her arms as she drops them from thier folded stance across her chest. Clasping her hands in front of her, the Dancer turns and lifts her chin to the one speaking to Vinyarod in the foriegn tongue.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
Wincing at the tone so unlike the sweet sound of elven voices, Vinyarod shakes his head. "I would be to differ that assumption Arinkalya." He sings well I'll not disagree as I've heard much worse, but I have yet to aquire the ear for any but elven song." HardeNing himself, the Warden turns to look upon the approaching Dwarf. "Well met, Braldor." He says in a neutral tone which displays no hint of emotion. TurNing to the Dancer he quickly translates the Dwarf's words before turNing back to reply. "I am well, and you? How are you this eve? We heard you singing and I wonder, are you a Bard among your peoples or do you sing for your own entertainment." he asks. Though the senior Guard does obviously make the attempt to /try/ to be polite his tone does border upon one of disinterest.
Braldor bows to the other elven figure. "Mae govannen", he repeats. "I hope this night finds ye well, Lady Arinkalya". TurNing once again to Vinyarod, he replies, "Yes, the night finds me well, Vinyarod. I thought of having a night stroll to think a bit on what is about to happen, and about our position in such a matter. And no", he adds with a low chuckle, "I am no Bard, but merely dabble in the art of singing every once in a while for my own entertainment". His face turNing serious once more, he adds, "I've heard that the Council is approaching, Vinyarod. Wouod your people of this Golden Wood attend?"
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Speaking to Vinyarod in a low voice again, in her and Vinyarod's common tongue, "Aye, perhaps that is the reason. I have never heard anything but elven song. Perhaps it is an aquired taste?" As the Knight Warden translates the dwarf's word, Arinkalya simply nods in understanding. As the short bearded creatures speaks her name, and the greeting of her tongue Arinkalya inclines her head politely, "Mae Govannen to you as well." She murmurs toward the direction of Braldor in Sindarin.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
Vinyarod quickly translates the Dwarf's words for the delicate ear of the dancer, falling quickly into a habit of translating for both the Galadhrim and the Dwarf so they in fact can speak through by some means. His gaze rests a moment upon the Dwarf and it seems for an instant he is undecided if he should speak or not. Then, his stiff posture seems to melt and he crosses his arms comfortably over his chest. "I think we will be present, though I am not he authority to make that decision. And your thoughts, well I've had such thoughts myself." he admits, in at tone that clearly reflects his dissatisfaction for doing so. Politely, he passed over the topic of song, and it will surely only bring them to disagreement should his opinion be voiced.
"Ah, good to hear. The more of us present, the better it would be. An alliance among our peoples is needed... very much indeed", says Braldor, shuddering as he remembers the horror of the mounted figure of the Mirkwood. "As I've told you before... there are dark things lurking in Mirkwood. And I speak not only of orcs and wargs", he adds with another shudder. He then pulls his blue cloak tighter around him, as if that could ward off the chill that the memory of the Dark Rider brings to his veins.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya listens calmly to Vinyarod's translations and she nods as well. "I sure that if it effect us we will attend. I have not heard if we will or not." Her blue eyes never left the dwarf, a wariness is all that can be seen in thier depths though her tone is colder then is her usual wont.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
Vinyarod shrugs, counting the Dwarfs words among the fanciful tales blown larger than life to thrill the listeners. "Yes, yes, wargs, orcs, toss in a twisted human or two, and they all dark vermon and have the same goal in mind, and that is to see us dead. I supose you mean the trolls?"
Braldor shudders once more. "Trolls? Yes, there are trolls in the Mirkwood... but that is not what I was talking about. Dark things there are, that ride in horses, and look like Men. In dark clothes they are enshrouded, and nothing but a cold gleam of their gaze can be seen. And they utter cries that chill yer blood... yes, even of many who had seen many battles! I think you speak lightly because you have not seen them. And their horses... fell mounts are they, and their heads look like skulls, they look not like living horses. Those are the things I was speaking about, Vinyarod of the Golden Wood. And I hope that you do not have to face them", he adds with a somber tone.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya may not be able to understand the words the dwarf was saying, but there was nothing wrong with her ears and she could tell the tone in which he spoke. Lifting one delicatly arched brow, Arinkalya looks toward the Knight Warden in questioNing, "Vinyarod?" Her voice was questioNing and melodic, if distant and emotionless. Though if one could see her hand in the darkness one would witness gathering the green folds of her skirts in a tight fist.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
"We speak of skill in battles Arinkalya." The words not translated into sindarin, but yet the truth, and he looks to the Dwarf intensely and switches to Westron. "Have you seen their faces or any that would give them identity?" Vinyarod asks curiously, though some whisper of recognition reflects within his eyes. "What would chill the blood of a Dwarf isn't likely to do the same to the first born." he says in objections, though still the glimmer of possible understanding lays unspoken in his eyes. LeaNing closer to the Dwarf, tossing his normal senses out the window. "How many Dwarf. How many of these men?" he asks in a whisper.
Duinlas approaches from the birchwood, having heard voices and smiles at the gathered company, especially pleased that Vinyarod isn't outwardly insulting the visitors this time. He deems to join them and waves as he approaches, "Good night, friends. How do you fare in this weather?"
"Look at their faces? Nay, nothing can be seen of their faces, save the glittering coldness of their eyes. And only two of those I saw. yet, others tell me of seeing other... or maybe the same, I cannot tell. For noone saw their faces, but we all heard their fell cry... it chills yer blood. Fear it instill, and doubt, even in the most stout-hearted. And there was another, different from these that I speak of. This one was a man, and I can tell it with all certainty since i saw his face. But cruel he is, and mighty also with his black mace. But this one spoke, although his speech was only about bringing death and destruction to us all. The mouth of sauron, I heard him call himself. And his mace glittered eerily, even in the sun", Braldor says, his eyes haunted. TurNing towards Duinlas, he adds, "Mae govannen. I fare well, Master Duinlas. I hope this night finds you well too"
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya listens to Vinyarod brush off thier conversation as mere skill in battle, but disbelief registers in her mien. She keeps silent for a while longer, no longer is her eyes gaurded. In them, especially when Vinyarod leaned forward to speak to the dwarf, fear is prevalent, fear and worry. Her blue eyes lifted to VInyarod as did her chin. "I do not believe one such as your self would show such open concern if it were just mere skill in battle." Her eyes flick to the new come edhel and a small wan smile lifts her lips. "Mae Govannen," Her voice faltered little as she looked from the edhel back to Vinyarod and back toward Braldor, ever speaking Sindarin.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
TurNing his attention from the Dwarf, Vinyarod nods to Duinlas. "Well met." he says in reply, as he translates the words of the newly arrived to Arinkalya. "I myself am well and enjoy the change in weather. At least I do now and can not promise to remain of that mindset."
TurNing back as Braldor speak, the Warden frowns. "Nay Dwarf, it chills your blood....And I've heard the same said of spoiled ale. Tell me of their weapons and how they moved....." Any more that would be said falls silent as the Dwarf utters Sauron's name. A frown etches severly upon the Galadhrim's face and he stands to his full height and steps back. "When did this occur? And who championed the free peoples in the battle?" Holding up a hand for Arinkalya, his eyes remain focused upon Braldor. "One moment Arinkalya, one moment more."
[<#27187>] Duinlas furrows his brow at the talk and shakes his head, speaking quickly to the other elves there, "" but more specific he will not say, and he turns to Braldor, 'It fairs well. But more well if you do not recount these fell things, as I have asked you. And indeed, others have as well... you would be wise to take our counsel.'
[Khazar(#18868)]
Out of the darkness comes a single light, whitish-blue in color, that sways slowly to and fro, held aloft by an unseen hand. Also out of the moonless blackness comes a low voice--soft, but gaiNing in volume as it nears the shore. It rumbles out a deep, dirge-like song, and the thud of the approaching person's heavy boots acts as a rhythm for the song.
"With axes grim and faces hard,
their courage untold by mannish bard,
the Khazad faced the rising tide,
of gnashing, biting, black-skinned hides...
Under raiNing fire, and falling stone,
the Khazad faced the Dark One's own...."
The song fades in volume, degenerating to a low, resonant humming of the tune. No elf, this, not by the deep, echoing voice. And no man, either, judging by the height of the swaying lantern.
And it most certainly is not. Nearing the small knot of mixed races, the approaching figure raises the bluish lantern, illuminating the long-bearded face and hard features of a dwarven warrior. "Greetings!" barks the nearing dwarf, his song fading in the night. "An oddly large gathering by the riverside this moonless night, is it not?" His expression is unreadable, his identity unsure, and the bluish light gives the dwarf's face an eerie, unsettling glow.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya settles back as Vinyarod speaks for her to be patient. Patience is a quality abundant in this elf maiden so she bides her tongue and stands, both hands furrowed into her silken skirts as she listened to the harsh sounding tongue between the others about. As the other Edhel speaks in Sindarin, Arinkalya's widen openly, if the tone of Vinyarod's voice did not frighten her, his words did. "Fell beings? Of what beings can be so evil that it is asked not to be spoken...." Her voice trails off, and she pales as she stands quietly. Perhaps she is recounting in her mind all the countless horror stories shared with her by her mellyn as children of the foul things that lurk just beyond the borders of her home.
"Their weapons, you ask? Swords they wielded, if memory serves me right. Fell swords, that glinted eerily..." Braldor shudders once more, as he hears Duinlas's words. "Well, Master Duinlas, I just think that all must know the foe we face, and that is so near our doorstep in Mirkwood. For even the elves that went with us there shivered and their faces turned gray with fear at the sight of those... things, for Men they were not. And who led us, you ask?", he says as he turns to face Vinyarod once again. "Bifur of ered Luin was in charge of the patrol that faced that evil thing. And afterwards, in the battle where we tried to oust the dark forces from Mirkwood, King Dain himself led us."
Braldor turns now as he hear a fellow dwarf approach, and he immediately recognizes the singing voice. "Well met, Khazar", he says. "I hope the night finds ye well. I had come out to think a bit, and found Vinyarod and Lady Arinkalya here".
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
Duinlas' word draw the Warden's gaze but it is a hard stare. "Our Diplomats, the ones who speak a constant flow of sweet flowery words, who also fancy themself great and powerful warriors will be in attendance at that meeting." Vinyarod says harshly as he replies in Sindarin to Duinlas. "If this, and yes I suspect who they are, is to be the topic then we'll be ill prepared to discuss anything. Of course the Dwarfs should speak." making a hand gesture towards the smaller being though a hard stare remains upon Duinlas.
Another arrives, a singing one infact, and Vinyarod draws his eyes to the swaying lantern. "Even in a haven one should practice means to not be heard such great distances away." he says, his frustration obvious in his tone. "Greetings...... " The Senior Guard of the Galadhrim does not speak the Dwarf's name for he does not know it, and at that moment in time he cares not to ask for it. "When were any to share this news if not before the Council so we could prepare." Vinyarod snaps harshly. Lifting a hand to cover his mouth in a thoughtful posture he looks to Arinkalya and leans close to whisper in her ear. "They speak of the Nine, and one who speaks for Sauron." he says in the softest of voice so his words remain alone with the dancer.
[<#27187>] Duinlas turns to the new dwarf, and his eyes sparkle seemingly drawing light from the hidden stars rather than the latern, and he listens keenly to the song, and bows in greeting, subverting to Westron again, 'Greetings, Linnor o Erebor, such words are not oft heard in song, for that I thank you' and turNing to Braldor he tilts his head, 'It would be unwise to discard the counsel of the wise in this matter, Braldor son of Braldon, for the council approaches and I would rue it greatly if all the valley was abuzz with rumor of your tidings before the Lord Elrond and his own have heard the full tale from your King and the other free peoples here.' And last he turns to Arinkalya and Vinyarod, smiling without any joy, ""
"Well, Master Duinlas, that may be. But I also think that everyone must know what we are facing in Mirkwood. And judging by your words, and by Vinyarod's, it seems that these things that I talk about are something to be reckoned. They wield great powers, for I saw orcs and trolls cringe at their wail. And this one that called himself the Mouth of Sauron spoke as if he wielded indeed great authority. But I shall not speak again of them, if you so wish. Indeed, I think there are some things that should wait for the light of the Sun to be spoken of... even in the Hidden Valley", says Braldor, as he turns his gaze towards the dark runNing waters of the Bruinen.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
The other dwarf's arrival falls unnoticed at first to the Dancer as she hears Vinyarod's words to her. Her blue eyes close briefly, her spine stiffeNing slightly before she speaks, softly for Vinyarods ear only "Surely, surely not close...could the dwarf be mistaken?" She had opened her eyes during the course of her remarks to Vinyarod and she settled back away from his ear once more, allowing him to concentrate fully on the topic at hand. Her own eyes, fearful now, roamed the gathered group and noticed the other lantern-lit dwarf. She does not speak to him though she does incline her head. Speaking again, this time at a normal decibal, if not a bit hesitantly, "I see now why it is so prevelant for the free peoples to come together again. I have heard...only stories.."
Duinlas nods to Braldor, "I do believe that is the purpose of the council, is it not?"
[Khazar(#18868)]
"The night finds me well enough, Braldor Hammerhand," Khazar replies to the other dwarf, his blue-eyed gaze sweeping the assembled group by the light of the crystal-faced lantern, and his look is the hard, weighing-and-measuring glance of an old campaigner. It snaps to the elf, and a brief glint of temper flares like a forge-fire in the dwarf's eyes. Then it fades, and the red-bearded warrior replies to the Galadhrim in turn, his tone as cool as Mithrim ice, "I am not a young elven guard for you to school in the art of stealth, master elf. I am Khazar Fireblade, son of Dalar, son Kelthar, and I am Justiciar of the Iron HIlls military force." He gives a half bow.
His attention remains on Vinyarod only a moment longer, however, as it moves again to Braldor. HIs voice is gruff, but otherwise devoid of emotion, and his blue-illuminated face likewise, "Do not speak of the walking shadows and that halfman so openly, son of Braldon. As you say, some things are better left to the light of day."
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
"I know what they are." Vinyarod snaps in Sindarin as he looks to Duinlas. TurNing a concerned expression to Braldor he frowns. "I fear not the night and I wish to know what is to be said so I may inform my own Lord so he may prepare." he says flatly. "A council is to discuss alternatives based on knowledge and experience. How could the council be prepared if those with the exprience do not attend?"
The Warden's jaw twitches with tension as another speaks up. Looking to Khazar with little tolerance for posturing, his gaze flickers over the dwarf's hairy form. "I'm hapy for you Khazar and your place within your peoples, but do understand that we elves do not fear the dark and I for one would like to hear more."
"You do not fear the night, ye say?", Braldor replies. "Tis not the night I fear, Vinyarod of the Golden Wood! But then again, you might be a bit sheltered against this darkness that looms over Mirkwood. But as both duinlas and Khazar counsel, I shall say no more, at least willingly. But if ye want to know more, I will answer as best I can. And you wish to inform your own Lord, ye say Vinyarod? Judging from what i make of these things, you can mention them to yer Lord and he'll be aware of the gravity of the situation we face in Mirkwood", Braldor adds with a slight frown.
[Duinlas(#27187)]
Duinlas nods respectfully to Vinyarod and holds up his hands in surender and speaks plainly in Westron, "Then you know what he met in battle, and indeed the BeorNings have as well, and thus they come here for council of the wise. If you are counted among them, surely you shall sit in on the council. I, for one, shall not be invited, but am certain all shall be made clear and after many hours they shall reach consensus. So I shall seek to reinforce the counsel of those wiser than me that we should hold our tongues and not speak of ill in the open of our valley."
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
As Vinyarod lapses back into Westron Kalya looks toward the house, but is now rooted to her spot. The initial reaction to the news has faded, and once again the dancer is standing calm and still, if her skirts were getting badly wrinkled from her grip of them then she does not seem to notice. Her waistlength dark blonde tresses blow gently when the chilled breeze blows across the banks of the river, though the weight holds her hair down for the most part. Her eyes still flicked from the group to the shadows that surround the group before resting again on Vinyarod, patiently waiting until he could spare a moment for translations.
[Khazar(#18868)]
"Nor do I fear the night, Master Elf," replies Khazar coolly, his voice a deceptive calm, like an axe blade cloaked in a thin covering of silk. "If I did, I would be creeping along as quietly as you suggested. But as I said, some things are better left to the light of day, and to the council." He pauses a hairsbreath, eyeing the elf, then, "For one who has lived as long as yourself, Master Elf, your patience seems remarkably thin, your brazen attitude strong." Still that cool tone, that face devoid of emotion. The Justiciar moves forward, next to Braldor, his lamp still held high.
"I still do not know your name, nor your titles, master elf." Khazar remarks, "By my people's customs lack of introduction is perceived as a breach of etiquette, and the elves I have encountered have behaved much the same way..."
Duinlas takes up the introduction first, bowing low to Khazar, "Much apologies, but I often find myself attempting to mediate the wealth of feelings many of our visitors feel toward eachother. It is not assigned work, and I do it happily, but it is trying. I am Duinlas son of Anwarpeng, I am Glirion a Linnor o Ilmadris a Arphadon nos Menelmen." The elvish rolls off his tongue quickly, and he smiles, "But Duinlas is how you should call me."
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
Rolling is eyes to the cloudy sky and then back down the the dwarf level, the Warden presses his jaw tightly down. Then when he looks as if he may burst with a series of well struck insults, he shakes his head and turns away, knowing full well the shorter creatures tempers blow without much provocation. "At least their tale has been confirmed, though I am concerned that only two were mentioned." he says to Duinlas. "I will be present at the council."
TurNing to Khazar, the Galadhrim frown. "I have no patience when my charges are in danger." he says in a voice that is flat and cold as ice. "I know of what Braldor speaks, and it is something that needs to be prepared for. I take that seriously, don't you Master Dwarf?" The tall ellon's glaze drops to the tip of the Dwarf's boots and then rises slowly to rest judgementally upon Khazar's eyes. "I am the Knight Warden Vinyarod, and that is all you need to know."
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Again Arinkalya stands quietly, though the tone of the conversation had turned from fear to barely repressed anger. Her eyes remained stoic, but her chin lifted somewhat and her hands finally dropped the skirts they were clutching. The seagreen sleeves enveloped her hands as she allowed her arms to hang loosly by her side as she watched the dwarves with an aloof disinterest in her blue eyes.
[Khazar(#18868)]
TurNing slowly, Khazar's sea-blue eyes fix themselves on Duinlas, and a grin splits the red beard of the dwarve in two, his teeth glowing an eerie blue by the light of the lantern. "At your's and your family's, Duinlas of Rivendell," Khazar replies with a bow of his own. TurNing back to Vinyarod, however, the grin fades, his heavy brow lowers, and two muscular forearms cross over a cloaked and mailed chest, with his bearded face devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
However, as Vinyarod continues to speak, Khazar's brow lowers, and his face hardens. When the elf takes his heigth in a contemptuous glance, the dwarven warrior's blow eyes widen suddenly, then narrow to slits. His teeth are barred in a scowl, his eyes look ready to strike sparks, and the muscles on the sides of his broad jaw can be seen easily even through his thick beard. "Now listen, you arrogant whelp," Khazar snarls, uncrossing his heavy arms to raise a pointing finger at Vinyarod, "We are all allies here, and you will neither demand our knowledge, nor show disrespect, nor scorn the fallen dwarves who died under the bows of Mirkwood, and expect our cooperation. Do I make myself clear?"
Braldor looks at Vinyarod, his eyes turNing hard again at the elf's words. However, he assumes a very diplomatic tone while he speaks. "Vinyarod, we are quite different, and should respect those differences, whether we like it or not. This is partly why I greet you using elvish words, instead of plain Westron... as a show of respect for your people and their ways. But you remain aloof and barely hide your contempt for those of us who are not elves. Yet, as you have heard, we have battled an evil that seems to have been dormant for a while, but that now shows itself again in the Mirkwood. Why do you keep this attitude towards us? Do you not see the need, even for your people, to have a strong alliance with those of us who are not elves?"
TurNing to Khazar, who now stands near him, Braldor whispers so that only his fellow dwarf can listen, "Heed not much his words and attitude, Khazar. He might be aloof and a bit insulting at times... but we must stay our temper. At least until we see where his people stand, at the Council. If they are not with us, they shall suffer the consequences. For now, let it drop... at least for the sake of diplomacy". Braldor places a hand on the warrior's shoulder as he speaks, trying to stay Khazar's anger.
Duinlas steps forward between Braldor, Khazar and Vinyarod and Arinkayla, holding his hands out to both of them, his voice is trained from years of singing and now it projects forcefully, "Enough! I have heard these harsh words traded before! And I shall not have violence between guests in the valley. If you are to fight, you should leave, with or without your Lord's leave, but I forbid you from fighting. Lest you bring the wrath of the Tirith unto yourselves." His glare lands heavily on Vinyarod as he continues, "You shall return to your Lord's side and await the council and not seek out the other guest of this valley unless you have civil words on your tongue," and then his glance turns to Khazar, "And you should return to King Dain's side and perhaps learn to keep your rage in check. For the pride of the dwarves shall not bring about violence here as it did at the base of the lonely mountain many years ago. Or so the elderly Hobbit we have napping in our rooms tells us."
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Placing a light hand upon Vinyarod, Arinkalya starts to speak but the other edhel steps forward. Her eyes glittered harshly and for perhaps the first time on this trip she meets the obvious anger of the other creatures of Arda with a raised chin. Her cheeks were deeply colored and her hand that alighted upon the Knight Warden's arm trembled slightly but she did not flinch nor turn away. After Duinlas finished speaking she leaned closer to Vinyarod, and speaks in Sindarin for him alone, "I know not what is being spoken, but I am not unaware of the aNinosity building. Perhaps it would be best to return and speak with Lord Celeborn about what has been revealed?"
"The hobbit that dwells here deserves a lot of respect and thanks from all dwarves, as he was key in getting rid of Smaug, curse it's name forever! But of what he has told you or any of the other dwellers of the Valley I know nothing. But I see you speak of the pride of dwarves, and about what happened at the Gates of Erebor", replies Braldor in a mild tone. "Yet I assure you it was not pride what caused the... disagreement at the Doors? For the rightful King under the Mountain had come at last to his inheritance, and some came to him with haughty words and speaking about violence to try to take away what was rightfully ours. How would you have treated a thief that comes to try to rob you and your kin of what is rightfully yours, master Duinlas? For those who came bearing weapons to the Gates of Erebor thought Thorin and his companions dead, and only greed drove them there?"
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
TurNing to Arinkalya, the Warden quickly translates the conversation taking place. His tone is dry as he speaks, and he offers flickers of distaste for the stubby dwarfs as a clear reminder of their earlier conversation. "If they act upon their temper, run." he whispers softly in a tone that remains between the Galadhrim.
"Watch your tone with me Dwarf." Vinyarod hisses as his posture stiffens. "You fool yourself into believing insult Dwarf. Not all of our kind like your attitudes nor tempers and instead of demanding to have your way you should be thanking us for tolerating your kind in the face of a common interest." LeaNing forward, "Be thankful I'm willing to ignore your outburst because as your friend here says, we're attempting to be respectful of eachother's ways." Then with a look of disdain, he repeats the Dwarf's words. "Do I make myself clear?" Then to Braldor's words he turns quickly with narrowed eyes. "What would you have me do? Offer a hug of affection and a tender kiss upon your cheek." he asks harshly. "The Galadhrim have our own memories and for the time you've not shown us different than that which we know. Cope with that as you see fit and realize that like it or not I am trying to be nice to you."
TurNing up his nose at the Dwarf.... not a hard thing considering the difference in height, the Warden turns away from the Dwarfs. "Do not insult me or my status Duinlas, I am a senior Guard in no need of council on behavior and further I would not fight in your lords valley, though I could not promise that they would not respect the same." Glaring back at the ellon with crystal blue eyes he stands firm. "Do not order me unless you have the means to enforce improper treatment upon a guest." he adds, ignoring any further the Dwarves have to say for the moment.
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya stiffens as she hears what has been said. Instead of replying to those words though, she draws herself up to hieght speaking ever softly for Vinyarod's ears only she speaks but only hesitating a moment. "I will not show cowardice again, nor will I allow these insulting creatures to see my retreat." Once more she turns to look cooly now upon the dwarves not speaking toward them or of them.
Duinlas raises his eyebrows at Braldor, and chuckles, "Yes... there are many sides to the story are there not? Although you speak of greed and often it is greed that touches those entrenched with their wealth. And of the claims the Elves had, I claim to not know, though the claim of the children of Dale there was no doubt. No doubt Thorin would have come to see reason when counsel was taken with Dain and his companions. But the important thing was the result, for did not all turn and fight together the Orc attack? And dwarf and elf and man fought side by side..." he lets the words trail off as he is wont to do, thinking his point made.
But then he faces Vinyarod and his words are not warm, for he is not often scorned for his counsel, "You think you wronged then you shall have every right to take it up with your hosts. But should all be made clear here, I do not think my words of command would be thought of ill spoken after much of my milder warNings went unchecked. Wronged you may have been by dwarves, but these two dwarves you see in front of you have done you no wrong and would fight to save our lives. As would the BeorNings and Men from Dale. All whom you have treated poorly by my judgement. Do you not wonder at the gift they give? For those who have such short lives to give them so freely in defense of all free people?"
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
The Warden's arms cross tightly over his chest and he glares at Duinlas. "Has the close contact the edhel of the valley has had over time warped your sense of proper conduct? You do not command me, but if you so feel the motivation to force your will upon me then please feel free further disgrace yourself." he adds in Sindarin with a hint of disappointment. Glancing to Arinkalya, Vinyarod nods. "We will remain as you wish Dancer." Then as if daring the Valley elf, he turns to wait for the next action.
Khazar hesitates as Braldor lays a calming hand upon his burly shoulder, and whispers wise words into his ear. But before the red-bearded dwarf can react, Duinlas steps in as well and has his say. Khazar's clenched and upraised fist lowers, albeit reluctantly, and some of the tension seems to go out of the seasoned warrior's face and shoulders, but not all. "Forgive me, Duinlas son of Anwarpeng," he mutters gruffly, stepping back and re-crossing his arms over his barrel-like chest, the lantern he carries bouncing softly against the side of his hip.
He remains silent for a moment, accepting Braldor's and Duinlas's advice, and nodding in agreement to their words, but then, a moment later, he stiffens, even more so than the first time, if that is possible. His jaw works, his mouth opens, then claps shut again. His glare is as hard as stone, as cold as ice, and as heated as fire. "You are worried about the pride of the dwarves, Duinlas? What about your own kinsfolk!" he practically spits from between clenched teeth. The lantern tumbles to the ground, spilling blue light across the grass like water, and unconciously the red-bearded dwarf takes an angry step forward. "I've had enough of your condescending words, you arrogant whelp!" he booms, taking another step forward, and continues to speak in a loud, resonating voice, "I have the honor of calling myself an elf-friend of Amon Thranduil, and for many elves I would gladly give my life up for. They can be as steadfast as dwarves, hard as stone or bendable as willow. True allies, and they would sacrifice themselves for us as I would for them. You, Vinyarod, are a disgrace to the wiser and fairer folk of your race."
[Duinlas(#27187)]
Duinlas stays in his place as the wrath of the dwarf approaches, but he does not obstruct the view of the true target, instead he turns to Vinyarod after the harsh words and speaks quietly, "Had you true wisdom, you would have taken the counsel of those less wise than you, but perhaps more practical, and commanded yourself by your own will. But you sow discontent among the races, for what purpose do you serve? Surely your Lord has not commanded you to act as such."
"Indeed, the case of the Men of Dale is different than that of the elves of the Mirkwood. They had some claim over some items that were in Smaug's hoard, and also they needed to repair their town. Thorin himself offered them that", Braldor replies to Duinlas. "And yes, the outcome was the most important part of it all. We were wise enough to put aside our differences when faced with orcs and wargs", the adds.
TurNing to Vinyarod, he says, "You words are harsh, Vinyarod. So you tolerate us? Well, if we were in your country, then that might come to pass, and it will be grave. But I remind you that, although you're an elf, you are also an stranger in the Valley, subject to Lord Elrond's hospitality. Yet you act as if you were Master here, and your words and attitude are haughty and filled with disdain. I, for one, have not wronged you, so you cannot hold anything against me. But still you come with venomous words. I, for one, shall take Master Duinlas's advice,a nd let the matter drop. But I shall remember your words and deeds, Vinyarod. Maybe I'll even be able to forgive you for them", he adds.
turNing then at Khazar's outburst, he says still in a whisper, "Control yoursef, Khazar! remember that our actions here are judged by many folk. Do not embarass King dain, as this elf embarrasses his own Lord! I beg you to let it drop. We'll hold counsel with King Dain, and tell him of this situation. he must be informed of what these elves think like, so he can make his own judgement on the matter that brought us here in the first place". Braldor places again a hand in the warrior's burly shoulder, trying to stop the wrathful dwarf from getting to Vinyarod.
[Khazar(#18868)]
Once again, Khazar hesitates as Braldor lays a hand upon his shoulder, but unlike the first time, this time he wrenches his shoulder away from the other dwarf angrily. He hesitates again, but instead of saying more to Vinyarod, he whirls about, golden-red beard flailing around like a weapon, and snatches the dropped lantern from the ground.
"I am taking the good elf's advice," the old dwarven warrior snarls in the direction of Braldor, his stoney-planed face a mask of poorly concealed rage and affront, cast in an eerie bluish glow by the lantern, "I will respect the Master's law, and I will return to where that law cannot be stretched. Follow me, if you are wise."
Then the dwarf storms off, his green cloak billowing out from behind him, the lantern light spilling onto his armor, making it glisten like molten silver. The lantern-light fades into the distance, before eventually being swallowed up again by the night.
[Gondramind(#32156)]
From out among the birches a tall, cloaked ellon emerges, head covered by his hood, stride purposeful and direct. His gaze focused on the gathering at the shore, he pauses at the edge of the wood and watches the proceedings, noting the positioNing of each and, more importantly, a member of his own house standing between dwarf and elf. And then the bristling dwarf storms off.
Pulling back his hood the Herald of nos Menelmen approaches the shore. "A fair eveNing to you all," says Gondramind, voice low, steady and clear. "Voices carry quite well in this winter air. And your voices I could hear within the caverns of my house." He casts a clear, steady eye to each individual, halting his gaze at last upon Duinlas. "I hope all is ... well."
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
TurNing his golden crowned head from the maiden to face the hotheaded dwarf, Vinyarod glares. "Why is it when people don't say things you like you twist it into something it's not and call them a disgrace or whatever term sticks in your beard for the day." Where his head has turned his body now follows in a swirl of his cloak. Standing his ground, he reaches up and gently persuades Duinlas to the side as he steps unblocked to face the Dwarf. Glancing without turNing his head, the senior Guardsmen continues. "And you Duinlas, are your kindred now to be called unwise when they don't listen to your words? Are we here for a council or to be told how to think? Are we not allowed to like or dislike who we will? I am my people are of our own mind and none shall change it. You'll either respect our differences or do without us." Lifting a hand he points to the Dwarf. "And that goes for your kind as well."
Glancing to Braldor, he frowns though he nods his head in agreement. "Accepting differences helps to put them aside. I don't like you and you don't like me. Accept it and get on with it." he adds in confirmation. Politely, he ignores the comment of how a Dwarf would be treated in Lothlorien. While the truth was the path, this particular one would only anger those already angry. It really wasn't a pretty truth. Upon hearing of Elrond's hospitality, Vinyarod raises a hand up as if pleading to nature itself. "What laws have we broken? I hear of this hospitality and follow the laws of the Eldar, and I am continuously reminded of this as a means to make me hold my tongue. What a strange place the Valley is, for by the sound it reflects the customs of a human village." Sweeping his hand downwards as if to dismiss any further talk he looks to them all. "We'd all get along better if some didn't try to make all others fit into a tidy mold of similar feelings, thoughts, and behaviors." Glancing to the new arrival he bows his head. "Well me... and yes, all seems well."
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Watching the one with the lantern leave, Arinkalya allowed the rigid stance of her body to relax, though her eyes remained cool. The long silken gown that she is robed in hides the fact that she is trembling from all save the one who knew her best. Speaking in Sindarin to the new come edhel she speaks slowly, "A good eve to you, I hope that this night finds you and your kind well?" Her tone and voice was arranged carefully, though the slight marring of the fluid tongue spoke volumes of her current state.
Duinlas nods to Gondramind, but steps aside slightly as Vinyarod moves him. Still prepared to protect the peace with his own body, wise or unwise as that may be. But to Vinyarod he responds anyway, "You do not speak for the Lord Celeborn, nor does Khazar speak for King Dain. If you wish to dislike, you may. And wise? Who is wise? The wise are prone to folly as much as the ignorant. Yet the wise are more likely to create folly in greater importance, rather than meaNingless subjecst. Like or dislike as you will, Mellon-Vinyarod, but in this valley, you would do well to consider the wisdom of keeping your mouth shut when it might cause strife among the enemies of the Dark One!" And finally he falls silent, watching one of the Dwarves march off.
[Randinen(#10961)]
There is the patter of feet upon wood, and another of the fair kin approaches from the bridge. 'Tis the Hirdan Randinen, who brings along a hummed tune of sorts; also he bears an axe, which rests against his shoulder. Upon discovering the gathering nigh the shore the Hirvaethor looks up with mild surprise.
He calls out, "Mae govannen, mellyn..." then he proceeds his path towards the yard, seemingly unmoved of what passes here. Yet then his eyes and mind strays from his purpose as Randinen halts and looks up to find Gondramind.
[Vinyarod(#31483)]
The Warden looks to Duinlas as if he'd lost his mind. "Someone show me this set of rules we must adhere to in the Valley!" he calls out as if by some miracle that these mysterious rules will be revealed. When silence is his answer he looks again to the ellon of the Valley. "Has the darkness cause good and free people to take away the rights of their subjects to speak already? What is it that we become then? Enemies of the dark one indeed if we're already afraid of simple and very harmless arguements the we have already lost." Leaving it at that, he looks to the Dwarf Braldor and then to the others in turn. Shrugging his shoulders upon receiving no reply, Vinyarod lifts his hand in greeting to yet another arrival. "Well met." he calls out.
[Gondramind(#32156)]
Eyes the color of mist slide from one speaker to another. He nods to Arinkalya, "Thank you, mellon, I and ..." he chuckles... "and my kind are well" his eyes flick toward Duinlas, then slide to rest at last upon Vinyarood. The hard angles and plains of his face slowly soften with a focused smile "We have not met mellon, Vinyarod" he says, tone incongruously courteous in this heated gathering. "I am Gondramind, Arphedor nos Menelmen. I am certain you have broken no laws, as we frankly have few here to break. But for the urgings of courtesy and... common sense, give the reasons why we are all gathered here, yes? We have all come together here for a purpose, is that not so? A single purpose that affects us all. So it is my dearest hope that each of you have found our hospitality to your liking."
He chuckles softly, and gazes from dwarf to elf and back again. "If the valley is like unto a human village... well, there are many among the Edain and among our friends from Erebor, whom I would emulate in my actions regarding hospitality and courtesy. So, mellon Vinyarood, I would take that as a compliment."
Gondramind smiles at Randinen's, catching holding his eye a moment, then turNing and nodding a greeting toward Dairwenraiel. "Mae govannen, mellyn."
[Arinkalya(#30226)]
Arinkalya sighs softly and turns again to Vinyarod, "I-I think I am going to go back now," Her tone was mild and outwardly she was the same graceful composed elleth, though there were questions in her eyes and her lower lip was being chewed rather verociously. TurNing she alights on the path heading toward the house, her steps unhurried, and her hands clasped tightly around her back.
"Hospitality then might mean a different thing in the Golden Wood that it does in erebor and the Valley... or a village of Men. For hospitality demands to respect your guests, and the guests to respect their host. But that is not so with you, Vinyarod, it seems. Well, i will then remove myself, as my presence is not wanted nor welcomed by some of the present, it seems". Braldor turns his back, and makes his way back to the dwarven wagon that stands near the porch of the Last Homely House.