CHAPTER 11: Unwanted

[GandalfOfBorg]

The young monarch opened his mouth to reply but nothing came forth... he was actually speechless.  He soon found he had sat again, his heavy heart apparently weighing down.

[Palandil]

Fengel's heart was torn for the pain his sister still bore.  As if to shield her from her suffering, He gently pulled her close to him and held her in his strong arms.  "I miss our parents too Gleowyn, but carrying the pain of their passing will never bring the back.  Their memory must live on in our hearts, and we need to embrace the lives that they gave us to live.  Harldred was a good man, and he knew that you deserved to be happy and cared for.  And rightly you should honor him properly.  However, I do not believe that Haldred would want you to remain in a state of morning forever.  Our lives are short Gleowyn, honor Harldred, then fill your life with joy while you can.  No one can promise the future will be free of more suffering, but we must live while we have breath to do so."  He paused for a moment, then spoke his mind.  "Durgil is a good man as well.  When you are ready to be loved again, I give you my blessing."  He squeezed her tighter in his arms and while she wept, her brother too shed tears of pain.

[tomcat]

Dirnhael sat down with Durgil still staring at the door and now with only he and Edrahil present, he felt comfortable enough to speak.

"Durgil, it is not mine to tell you what to do with your life, but think of what you have proposed. You, a Dúnadan of full-blood and one of the noble line that stretches back to Isildur himself, wish to marry outside our kind?" Dirnhael's voice held a bit of frustration. It was partially due to his distaste for interfering in his young friend's life, but it also stemmed from somewhere else. Dirnhael, too, was a full-blooded Dúnadan, and the traditions of that bloodline ran deep. It went against his very being that Durgil might break that line.

He sighed, "If this woman truly holds your heart, than you must pursue that love to its end, but I remind you to be sure of what you do. Remember that you, and she, will be returning to the courts of your peers and those of higher station... think of what they shall say."

Dirnhael was a man of the sword - not a courtier. All the hobnobing of the court was lost on him, though he respected his King, and to even be thinking this way made him feel a bit queer. He leaned back to allow his words to sink in to Durgil's head.

Edrahil took the silence as a chance to add his own, "Though it is true that the mingling of blood between Men and Elf has occurred, it had the effect of raising one while not diminishing the other. I cannot foresee what will be for you, Durgil, but know that the gift given the Dúnedain is not one that should easily be squandered. That said, love is stronger than all things, and you must follow your heart." The Sindar slid back, "If you will excuse me now, I too will go and find my room."

[sdrotar]

Dirnhael sat down with Durgil still staring at the door and now with only he and Edrahil present, he felt comfortable enough to speak.

"Durgil, it is not mine to tell you what to do with your life, but think of what you have proposed. You, a Dúnadan of full-blood and one of the noble line that stretches back to Isildur himself, wish to marry outside our kind?" Dirnhael's voice held a bit of frustration. It was partially due to his distaste for interfering in his young friend's life, but it also stemmed from somewhere else. Dirnhael, too, was a full-blooded Dúnadan, and the traditions of that bloodline ran deep. It went against his very being that Durgil might break that line.

He sighed, "If this woman truly holds your heart, than you must pursue that love to its end, but I remind you to be sure of what you do. Remember that you, and she, will be returning to the courts of your peers and those of higher station... think of what they shall say."

Dirnhael was a man of the sword - not a courtier. All the hobnobing of the court was lost on him, though he respected his King, and to even be thinking this way made him feel a bit queer. He leaned back to allow his words to sink in to Durgil's head.

OOC: That's roughly what I was going to post tonight when I saw this. Thanks, Tomcat - sorry I've been away so much lately, but I'm back in the saddle now.

Dirnhael would never recommend against Durgil's potential union with Gleowyn; after all, he has followed his heart, and even though he's a full-blooded Dunadan, he was no noble when Ioreth chose him.
That said, Dirnhael knows that Durgil's nobility matters a great deal to him, and he would simply want to make sure that his friend considers the consequences of his actions, but not necessarily avoids them.

And you nailed it, Tomcat - he'd hate even bringing any of this up.

[tomcat]

[OOC:] Cool Shawn. If you want to submit your own post, I can delete all but Edrahil's input. Let me know if you do, otherwise we'll plan to move on the story.

[sdrotar]

[OOC:] Cool Shawn. If you want to submit your own post, I can delete all but Edrahil's input. Let me know if you do, otherwise we'll plan to move on the story.

OOC: Nope - I've held it up long enough, I'm afraid. Thanks again!

[tomcat]

[OOC:] Cool. I am going to wait for Matt to reply here... this still needs some more RP'ing, but stay tuned.

[calavingian]

Gloraglil followed directions to his room, only to pause at the lintel, slapping a palm against it in lackluster fashion. Resigned, he felt the felt the rough wood of the doorframe through the sodden fabric still sticking to his back. With closed eyes he remembered the pains of his childhood. The isolation, the fear, brought about by the taunts of his "betters", the full-blooded Dunedain of the court.

He remembered too the lonliness in his mother eyes, how few woman of court -save the queen and Durgil's mother, whom his own dam and grandmother had always spoken of with remembered kindness and fondness. He remembered how his mother had aged far more quickly than the other ladies of court, old before her time from heart-break, sorrow and a much diluted bloodline.

He remembered also a young dark haired noble boy, cousin to a King, who had approached an equally young straw-headed boy playing along in the dirt of the castle court-yard. He recalled his first tentative forays into friendship, a relationship as alien to him as that betwixt father and son, and knew he could keep his silence. Though it had been many years since that day Durgil approached a frightened outsider who until then had known the companionship only of books and stories and longer still since they had been forceably seperated by the spiteful will of Durgil`s father, the minstrel had not forgotten that early kindness.

With great reluctance, one fostered upon him by the duties of a remembered friendship, Gloraglil returned to the table just as Edrahil had finished his peace.

"Durgil," it has been many years it seems, since you and I played together as boys. And, to the credit of your great and noble heart, you never saw my bloodline as any less valuable as your own. But I must tell you, not all Dunedain see the world with the same eyes. Our people are noble and doughty yes... courage and honour run in our blessed blood. But pride too, is something carried by the vermillion stream within our veins. And overmuch of it seems. My mother was of a noble and royal bloodline. She could trace her descent from the lions of Baricar himself, navigator of one of the seven ships. Other heroes she could name of her blood, Gareond, Bostar and Femilcar the bold. Yet for the price of Rhaudour blood four generations old she was scorned. And her children with her. No man at court stepped forward to take her into her house when my father died. No one mourned her loss but you and I and fair Iolreth. All for a foreign bloodline two hundreds years old."

He reached a hand out to Durgil.

"And I, her son, born of two Dunedain houses, am forced to live as a mere herald at court, for no house would accept me as a sworn sword. I know nothing of the knightly virtues other Dunedain possess save that witnessed on the practice field. I can bearly even wield a sword, and only then because a drunken royal guard took pity on me often enough to at least teach me which was the sharp end!"

He sighed long and deep.

"My dearest, oldest friend. How then would they treat fair Gleowyn? Wounded as she is, how she live? Farm-lass though she is, would she even understand that they were taunting her? Her every invitation to a social event would be "regretably lost" or omitted. Her every attempt to host or join a gathering of court women would be snubbed."

His onw heart-breaking for the young lord of Arthedain, Gloraglil reached out to clutch Durgils hand tightly.

"If you love her my friend, you must not do this. Let her find some good man, a guardsman or a smith perhaps, who will love her simply and deeply. Whose peers and family will not judge her by her eastern blood or whisper snidely behind her back or to her face. Let her raise a host of common-born children and be happy. Let her not be miserable and hurt again. I beg you.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil hears out his friend's empassioned pleas and thought they are not unlike the arguments and dark mutterings he's heard himself by the court and even his father.  And yet his heart has been set aflame by love and he won't let the pettiness of pride diminish it.

"My friends, I understand your concerns and believe your words were those of my father's in the back of my mind o'er the many miles since these feelings had come about.  Gleowyn's experiences may have tendered her, but it has also fostered strength of spirit and of will; there is nothing to fear of those harpies behind their veils.  As for her worth measured by her blood, her trials and triumph proved it beyond measure; that has never been a question to me."

"I have no delusions of what would happen and doubt she does either... it's her heart and her lost loved ones she must reconcile.  If she cannot, she need not consider my proposal further and I won't begrudge her for it; I will accept her judgement for I love her enough to let her go if fate demands it."

[tomcat]

[OOC:] I still need Fengel's and Dirnhael's advancement picks. Thanks.

[calavingian]

"Then," Gloraglil spoke softly, "If your mind is set to this course and Gleowyn is willing to follow it, I will do what I can to prepare her for life at court."

Then the minstrel stared long into the fire, and would say no more.