|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2004 7:55 pm
((I ask Hetzon to edit his post. I have sent my profile, that is now available in the profile sticky. Thanks to Falathrim for warning me to this fact. I have also altered my last post, for a more deep conversation with her.
Menegil was not unpolite with Galadriel. He greeted her with even more reverence than the remaining people, for he had seen and spoke to her while he lived in Valinor, fascinated with her beauty and wisdom, that easily surpassed his own. The only thing that i didn't added to her title was Lady of Belfalas lol, but i think that it would be too much to say blaugh ))
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2004 8:02 pm
((For future reference, posts that have no RP content in them go in the OOC thread. Thanks!))
Minas Ithil :: The Houses of Healing
Ereinion Gil-galad
The Elf-king shook his head in disapproval. "My friend Menegil, that is all very well, but do you not think it would be wise to pay proper respects to the White Lady? Though youn greeted her well, she does deserve more. Even I would bow to her. Indeed, she has travelled hard to grant to us her wise counsels, and to sieze the counsel for yourself so suddenly is to err, I believe. Now, if you would..."
But what it was that Gil-galad wished to say next was soon forgotten, for once more the great doors of the citadel were thrust open, and rushing in was Ioreth, maid of the Houses of Healing. Speed seemed to be her mission; so great was this that she did not notice that the lady she had just shoved aside, in her desperation to speak with the king, was actually the wisest of all Elves.
And shoved she did. Gil-galad was flabbergasted, for now Galadriel was lying sprawled upon the stone floor of the tower. But Ioreth seemed not to notice this gravest of errors, for now she was speaking to the king. "My lord, I noticed that you had left in your bathrobes, so I went to prepare your clothes for you. Here is your robe; I agree that blue is a lovely color, my lord, and here, look, it is the crest of your house, all washed from your battle in the Black Country whose name I dare not speak in so fiar a realm. A fair crest it is, though I dare say I prefer that of the Dúnedain. I left your armor in the Houses, you shan't be wearing it until you are fully healed, that would kill you I believe. And look here, it is your mithril crown, and I am shocked that you left it behind."
This was certainly not all she said, for long did she talk. No chance did Gil-galad have to express his utter embarrassment (for even kings can succumb to such moods) at having his clothing displayed to all the Lords of Gondor, and even greater was his horror of seeing the White Lady thrust to the ground. But when Ioreth finally silenced herself, he expressed none of this. In fact, all he could bring himself to say was this, and this was in a harsh, yet utterly quiet whisper, that none (except possibly Alatáriel, being the greatest present) could hear:
"Where... are my undergarments?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2004 8:29 pm
Minas Ithil
Glorfirith did not actually have a short attention span but she disliked being teased by such a tiny creature. She figured the butterfly would eventually get tired and then she could give it a good poke.
She chased the butterfly through the streets of Minas Ithil and up into the citadel and straight through the open door of the coucil room. The butterfly flew just far enough out of reach so that Glorfirith couldn't touch it. She giggled as she chased it all the way around the council table that everyone was seated at, past Gil-Galad and Ioreth and then before following the butterfly back out the door, she leaped over Galadriel.
***
As she chased the butterfly through the streets, she glanced something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped to take a closer look.
"What could this be?" She bent down to look at it as the butterfly landed on her shoulder. She picked it up and held it up for the both of them to see. "Well now!" A wide grin spread across her face as she looked towards a nearby flagpole. "They really must not leave these lying around so well labelled!"
She crossed quickly over to the flagpole dodging to stay in the shadows. Hoisting the "flag" up took mere seconds because of her experience. She then looked to her butterfly friend.
"Shall we?" The butterfly lifted off her shoulder and then continued fluttering just out of reach as Glorfirith chased after it giggling.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2004 8:29 pm
Minas Ithil/Citadel/Council Room
Menegil turns his head to Galadriel, gazing upon her eyes, while answering the king
But i have paid my proper respects, sire... He is suddenly interrupted by the nurse from the Houses of Healing, that suddenly bursts her voice into a banter about clothing well, and deaths caused by armour, while pushing the White Lady to the ground. He smiled, barely containing the urge to laugh, for he wished to remain with a worthy posture in front of such an illustrous company. He nears Galadriel, and aids her to raise, while continuing his mind conversation
I am sorry for the lack of respect, but sometimes, i am carried away by battle plans, and honestly, i cannot withstand hunger very much. Tell me, how has the White Lady of Belfalas lived? The news i have received about you were rare. The last time i have heard about thee was when i visited Doriath, and found the palace guards speaking about your unparallelled beauty.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2004 9:35 pm
Minas Ithil - Citadel
The next few minutes fly by as a strange series of events comes to pass, leaving the elf princess bewildered. Isilien watches her Father's Commander, Lord Menegil, enter and listens intently as he speaks with the Men of Endor. The manner in which he greeted Lady Galadriel is questioned and before she can open her mouth to speak, is interrupted when Ioreth, a maid of the Houses of Healing, scurries in and absently knocks the White Lady to the ground before addressing the High King of Lindon about his garments. Slack-jawed, Isilien is too shocked to move to lend the Lady a hand. Her confused brown eyes follow a blond-haired elf as she enters and chases a butterfly around the council, hopping over Galadriel as she leaves and only after she is gone, and Isilien has time to digest what she has just witnessed, realizes that the blond-haired elf is in fact her cousin, Glorifirth.
Blinking rapidly, Isilien looks to her husband, wondering if he too is befuddled.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2004 5:03 am
((I will edit my post calling you Moriquendi...that would be a grave insult to one born on Alqualonde.))
Galadriel hears the King's words and her eyes dance with bemusement as he points out just exactly what she had pointed out a moment before in Menegil's mind, but her bemusement soon finds itself broken by an overzealous nurse.
As the White Lady is thrown to the ground with no regard from the nurse as to who she thrusts out of the way, indeed, to a lying position on the stone floor, Galadriel's eyes flash with indignation. Anger they do not hold, for anger is not an emotion Galadriel often feels, but great injustice and hurt, along with, again, a vast amount of indignation show not only in her eyes but blatantly on her pale face. The feeling is not helped when Glorfirith leaps over her - if anything, her face grows tighter and more pale.
Galadriel looks up at the kindly face of Menegil who assists her to stand.
News of my well-being is as available as I choose to make it, Menegil. I am glad to see you well, and I understand your lust for battle. I simply warn you not to forget proper respect for those others in the room.
Her voice to Menegil is kindly, almost a motherly tone to it, again, gently admonishing, but friendly and warm nonetheless; and her smile when she looks up at him as he helps her up is the same. However, when she walks up to Ioreth, Gil-Galad's nurse, her tone aloud is all but that. It could be described, not as angry, or hateful, for these emotions are not ones that the White Lady feels; instead, her voice is cold, emotionless, and her face a livid white mask of indignation.
So, High King, this is who cares for you? Certainly you could do worse for tenacity and fervor in a woman, but for respect and deference certainly better.
Woman, do you know who it is that you just cast to the floor without a care?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2004 9:17 pm
Osgiliath - Eastern Wall
Neniel sat on a stone by the gate. Using a sharpening stone, she was making her sword an even sharper weapon. It helped her stay calm, especially when the archery target was taken.
Neniel and the other eleven Rangers with her had been set as watchmen (and watchwoman as Neniel pointed loudly) at the gate. As soon as they, or the soldiers on the wall, saw anything, they were to sound the alarm and these twelve Rangers would man the top of the gate with a number of other Rangers and soldiers.
It was quiet, and Neniel could feel something stir in the air. Four Rangers had made a stump just off the road leading inside a target and were fireing practice arrow into it to test the strength of their bows. Tow others were like Neniel and sharpening blades. Three were at different points around the gate, watching north, south, and east. The last two were just inside the gate, getting things ready so that the other ten Rangers could move into the gate in an instant.
All of this should have made Neniel relaxed, after all, once a week they had to do this anyway. In fact, it had only been a few days ago that their round had come up and they had manned the gates. But this time, Neniel was uneasy. There was something about the stillness of the air. It was too quiet, there were less birds singing and other animals were not seen in numbers as usual for a day like this.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 1:47 pm
Minas Ithil/Citadel/Council Room
Menegil starts to laugh heartily with Galadriel's words, the whole citadel echoes with his laughter, as he speaks to her
Milady, do you really believe that someone that has spent their entire lives in a confined place, learning to take a good care of their patients, would know you? He then adresses the woman Ioreth, i believe your name is, when you push someone, even if it is the most common person of the city, you must apologize, and, with the already named apologies, help the fallen person to b back on her feet. Know you not that you have pushed back the wisest and oldest of all of the Noldor in Endor? For this is Galadriel, Lady of Belfalas, sister to Finrod Felagund and daughter of Finarfin of the Noldor. I believe you owe her apologies.
He smiles kindly, while gazing upon the woman of the Houses of Healing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 4:25 pm
Minas Ithil :: Citadel
Ereinion Gil-galad
Ioreth listened intently to Menegil's soft scolding, at first nodding happily, as if realizing she made a minor error, easily amended. But as Menegil spoke further, the nurse's smile collapsed into a look of uttermost despair and hopelessness, and a true look of panic was seen in her eyes. She had heard of the White Lady and all her glory (for what Dúnedain hadn’t in that age?), but in her haste she had not realized her grave mistake.
Suddenly, the maid thrust herself to the ground before Galadriel's feet, and all in the hall heard various cries of, "Forgive me, m'lady!" and, "I am not worthy enough to dwell in this land of Gondor any longer," or, "What a grave atrocity I have committed; when shall I ever be forgiven in the eyes of Ilúvatar?" and even a few, "Sweet, merciful Eru!"'s.
It was quite all too much for the High King. Ioreth's foolishness and the missing undergarments were quite enough, but Galadriel spoke in such a way that would likely render Manwë himself bursting into tears; much more so a lowly Elf. Even at that very moment, the Elven-king was debating whether or not he'd prefer listening to Galadriel's criticisms, or learning that his mother was actually a Naugrim and that he was the only Half-dwarf in Arda.
Finally, Gil-galad decided to silence Ioreth (who was by now making puddles on the fine stone-tiled floor). Before he could speak even a word, however, were the great gates of the citadel thrust open yet again, and a soldier of Gondor rushed inside. "M'lord, a word in private, if you would?" he asked. He jumped, however, when he saw Galadriel. "It is a great honor, m'lady, to be in thine lovely presence. Long may the White Lady Galadriel serve as the guardian of we Southern Dúnedain!"
Gil-galad smiled. "Now see, Ioreth, I know your intentions were well enough, but you could learn much from this soldier. Now stand, for I would think that Lady Galadriel sees that you have learned from your error." Once more he turned to the soldier, allowing him to address him. "Yes, good sir, what is your message?"
The soldier frowned. "Actually..." He leaned in closely, as if he did not wish the others to hear him. "My lord, many Men of my company have noticed a rather luxurious set of undergarments…”
And that was enough. Gil-galad's eyes seemed to go as bug-eyed as those of the foul Orcs within the Misty Mountains; he was truly that amazed. Swiftly he grabbed his walking stick and limped from the citadel, hoping that he would not see that which he knew he would see nonetheless. And indeed were his fears confirmed, for flying high within the skies were his clean undergarments, which Ioreth had dropped, wavering unceasingly from the banner pole of Minas Ithil.
"O! Ilúvatar... why?" he cried, wishing terribly in that moment that he were Half-dwarven.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 5:00 pm
Minas Ithil - House of Healing
Kareswen sits beside Isildur's bed in the House of Healing, and they talk of many things, things of the past and future, when they hear a cry of anguish. With a look of question on her face, Kareswen goes to the window to investigate, and what she finds is not something she would ever expect to see in all her years in Arda. There, standing in front of the flagpole with the help of his cane and in a rather plain housecoat, was Gil-galad.
He was looking up, and Kareswen followed his gaze to see his undergarments attatched to the flagpole. The High King was looking quite distraught as he watched his undergarments wavering in the wind, and Kareswen had to cover her mouth to stiffle a laugh, for it would be rude to laugh at anyones misfourtune, especially the High Kings.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 5:01 pm
Minas Ithil/Citadel/
Menegil was near the king when the guard came in, and as his sensitive ears listened to the small conversation, his eyes grew bigger with the amazement. As the king grabbed his staff and started walking as fast as he could to outside, Menegil followed him behind, asking to himself "Undergarnments???". As he followed the king to the front door and heard the king cry "O! Iluvatar...why?!", Menegil stood beside him, to have a glimpse on the funniest of all moments of his life; For there were the king's undergarnments, flying high above the city, in one of the flag poles. Menegil bursted into laughter, almost falling behind:
My Lord! Aren't those your undergarnments! He yelled, laughing with even more strength, for that was the funniest thing that he had ever seen, but he knew not that many guards were beside them, watching the show.
But then, his laughter was stopping, although slowly, for the misfortunes of someone should not be laughed at. And in his mind, a particular name ringed
Glorfirith!! He yelled, looking to all sides, searching for her, for he knew that she was perfectly capable of having done such a deed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 5:11 pm
Minas Ithil
Glorfirith was running around, chasing her butterfly friend when she heard a loud cry, shortly followed by someone calling her. She stopped and smiled then turned and headed back to the flagpole with her butterfly on her shoulder.
As she walked up she saw a group of people admiring her handywork. She joined them and stood next to her uncle while pretending she had no idea what was going on. You would be surprised at how well she did this. She owed it to experience.
"Hello Uncle! Is the council over now?" She notices everyone else making shifty glances up at the new "flag". "What are we looking at?" She looks up at the swaying undergarments with a wonderful look feigned look of surprise that could have only come from centuries of practice.
"Uncle! They are so... shiny... I never would have thought you would be one for satin...."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 6:03 pm
Minas Ithil - Citadel
Miaka frowns as her Father rushes out of the room and follows everyone out to see what is going on. Her brown eyes turn skyward and her jaw hangs in surprise. Her Father's undergarments float in the wind and Isilien quickly looks back down, shielding her eyes from such a sight. Blushing slightly, she looks up slightly, hearing the voice of the culprit.
Cousin! Having fun, are we?
Isilien's lips curl into a slight smile as she moves to embrace her blond-haired cousin. During times of war, she is glad to have her cousin around to lighten the mood. She can always count on Glorfirith.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 6:43 pm
Minas Ithil :: Citadel
Ereinion Gil-galad
If I told Anárion to remove his undergarments, the embarrassment would be greatly lessened. But alas! I labeled them too well so they would not be confused in the laundry. Ai! Curse you, name tag! May thee be cast into Udûn with all other beings of foulness!
It seems, then, that I will need to pull through this dilemma with grace and a kingly air. I shall accept that they are my undergarments, and even laugh at Glorfirith's joke. And satin is the most comfortable of clothes, so I why should I be ashamed to wear it! It is embarrassing, especially in front of the Lady, but the past, as I have said, is past. The present is what we should be obsessed over.
Ah, I see that good lad there is doing me great service by removing my undergarments from the flagpole. A great deed, indeed, and worthy of a king's praise. Ah! I see that he is wise as well; rather than hand them to me directly, he is descending to the Houses instead. A most wise move, and he shall be rewarded later, just after the embarrassment ebbs.
It seems that the crowd is calming themselves. I think I shall explain to them that I am rather weary, and desire a supper and perhaps another bath. It will give me time to cool, and yes, time for them to discuss these recent events, which are most unexpected. I think in time I shall look back on this and laugh with them, but not until I am relaxed and healed. Yes, I shall return to the Houses, for an hour perhaps.
Well, here I am, having explained my desire, and they agree (though I know they laugh still). Now, even as I think to myself, I descend these long stairs to the Houses. I hope that the meal the nurses there have prepared is delicious, for I could certainly use some well-cooked food to go with my relaxation. Perhaps I shall right a po- ohnoI'vetrippedandnowI'mfallingARGHHH!!!!
And thus it passed that Gil-galad, forgetting for just a brief moment his limp, tripped on the stairs and fell. One hundred or more steps did he stumble, and long was his fall.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2004 7:35 pm
Minas Ithil/On the way to the Houses of Healing(litteraly rofl)
Menegil was, as always, beside his king, trying to contain his laughter, helping him to descend the stairs, for his walking stick did not aided him much in the descent. But suddenly, the descent was quickly hastened, for the High King of the Noldor, lost in his thoughts, tripped and fell, dragging Menegil with him, for he was holding the king's arm, and tripped also. The fall took hours, in Menegil's mind, and when the stairs finally ended, in a rough tumble, Menegil fell, his face thrusting against the floor, making his nose to start to bleed. But He did not noticed that slight pain, for pain he felt on all of his body, much stronger than a small bleeding from a broken nose. In his thoughts, only one phrase floated around, and his own voice vibrating through his ears, yelling ]"To Udun with your clumsiness! It serves you right, for laughing at the king!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
