SCENE 2: Home, sweet home

[sdrotar]

Fengel wanted desperately to clap the stable hand behind the ear, but then he was just serving his master to the best of his ability.  As he made his way over to the field that his friend was laboring in, he couldn't help but chuckle once more at the nobility.

"What a mighty slayer of wood your are Dirnhael!  Its good to swing a tool instead of a weapon every now and again, no?"  He paused.  "I'm sorry to intrude, but a couple of stiff necked nobles just went in to see Durgil, and I'm sure your presence will be looked for soon lady Ioreth."

Dirnhael grinned at Fengel's jibe. "Safer than Orcs," he replied as he split another timber. "I believe I could get used to it."

Then he heard Fengel continue and looked back towards the stable. This foe would be more of a challenge than an Orc or the wood, for neither sword nor axe would lead him to victory. He looked to Ioreth and silently vowed that he would find a way to deliver her one nevertheless.

He nodded to Fengel, appreciating that his friend had alerted him of the nobles' presence.
"Perhaps it is best if I complete my duties here," he said, locking eyes with Ioreth and waiting for a hint about what to do.

After a moment, he brought the axe high above his head and brought it down hard with a loud crack, sending two perfect halves of an unfortunate log bounding in separate directions across the amber field.

[tomcat]

"Nonsense," Ioreth said with a slight smile. Dirnhael immediately recognized the defiance that lay within, as she continued, "You are a guest in this house, and Methilir is not yet lord and master in these lands. Thus, as a guest, you are welcome to attend any meeting of guests in this house."

Dirnhael nodded at his lady, and the trio turned back to the house, the axe left buried in the large stump of wood. The sun was setting in the west and the chill of night was settling over all.

Durgil came at last to the guest study. The young Dúnadan noble was comfortably dressed in some finely wrought clothes, and he had taken to wearing one of his father's long house coats. He entered the study to see his two guests - Derufin was kneeling at the hearth's edge, stoking the fire to bring up the flame and heat. Methilir stood nearby, fingering one of the ornate trinkets that sat on the mantle. Durgil recognized the porcelin piece immediately as one of his mother's most favored of items.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Irritated, Durgil cleared his throat. "If you please, that was my mother's and a cherished heirloom.  Ioreth would be devastated if anything were to happen to it."  Now that he'd gotten his unexpected guests' attention, he offered them seats and took the one that used to be his father's next to the fire.  Doing so caused a momentary flashback to when he was child and being chided by his father for sitting upon the seat.  Back in the present, he opened,  "I trust my man has seen to your refreshment so we can come to the business at hand which you have traveled so far to take up."

[sdrotar]

Dirnhael sat at Durgil's request, near Fengel, all the while studying the two men intently.

One was clearly a fool; raised in a life of leisure and blind to the world that surrounded the lands of Fornost.
The other - the one that was his rival - was not so transparent. Dirnhael would listen to his every word intently, and try to ignore the not-so-passing glances in Ioreth's direction.

He had little success with the latter.

[tomcat]

"Ah, yes, forgive me, Durgil. I was just taking pleasure in its frail beauty. You see, my home has gone many years without such things, with no woman present. Your father was lucky to have a daughter, mine had two sons and we do not pay heed to small trinkets." Methilir smiled as he took the offered seat, but then quickly stood again as Ioreth, Dirnhael and Fengel entered the study.

"Fair Ioreth! It has been weeks since I have had the grace to look upon my fiance's beauty." The Dúnadan noble took the lady's soft, white hand and brought it to his lips. Ioreth quickly withdrew her hand from his and curtsied before him, mumbling, "M'lord."

[Shawn's post will fall in here]

Methilir looked to Dirnhael and a cunning smile hung on his face, "You must be Dirnhael? Knight of Cardolan? I have heard many great tales of your deeds. I admire a man who lifts himself from the common fields of a now-dead nation and makes name for himself. I have also heard that the king has issued you landgrants. True? Well then, you have truly risen above the rest. Have you returned to Arthedain to settle? Rest from your weary road, so to speak? Perhaps take a wife?"

Durgil could feel the tension rising in the room, and he was humored to see that it was coming from Fengel. The Éothraim would not abide for long anymore mockery of his friend.

[sdrotar]

Methilir looked to Dirnhael and a cunning smile hung on his face, "You must be Dirnhael? Knight of Cardolan? I have heard many great tales of your deeds. I admire a man who lifts himself from the common fields of a now-dead nation and makes name for himself. I have also heard that the king has issued you landgrants. True? Well then, you have truly risen above the rest. Have you returned to Arthedain to settle? Rest from your weary road, so to speak? Perhaps take a wife?"

"Perhaps," he said slowly, with just the hint of a smile. "But it's possible that my weary road has a few more miles left to go yet."

His gaze met Methilir's as he took measure of the man. "Nobles," he thought. "Talk and more talk."

[GandalfOfBorg]

As was the custom of his house, since Durgil had taken his father's chair, Ioreth took their mother's as sign showing no favortism toward either suitor.  "These north marches you well know, Methilir, are guarded not by the faint of heart.  Our borders and their defenses have oft been tested by the minions of Angmar and rogue bandits.  It is not without foresight our king has granted lands to my companions here, great captains and leaders of men.  They shall strengthen our defense and that protection will ensure the prosperity of our realm."

[tomcat]

"Aye, you speak true, Durgil. Long has the northern reaches of Arthedain - and Arnor before it - eroded from the evil that is Angmar. My realm stands as a bulwark to even your fair lands here, where people can still feel safe." Only Durgil and Ioreth were truly aware of what Methilir spoke of, for the noble's county sat just east of Dorthad and north of the Tyrn Formen - the great northern downs. It was only a two day march from Methilir's eastern borders to the dead hills of Dol Gormain, where the Company once faced the foul spider-wraith, Gorvorsang. And so, Methilir's home had always been forced to fend off more incursions than that of Gelmir. This had the affect of sapping the noble's resources and wealth... but, it also came down to bad management and brother and sister knew it.

Methilir continued, "But back to your question, Durgil. There is no business in which I have come to attend. I merely wished to welcome you home and to pay visit to my betrothed. Derufin had told me that you were seen in Fornost and so I waited a few weeks, once I was informed, for you to return home. Any business that will need tending may be put off for the while... after all, once I am married to your sister, and as elder of this house, well, we will need to arrange how things are cared for."



[OOC:] I awarded an advancement at the end of the last chapter, and Fengel and Dirnhael have still not been updated. Let me know how you wanna spend your picks, guys.

[sdrotar]

[OOC:] I awarded an advancement at the end of the last chapter, and Fengel and Dirnhael have still not been updated. Let me know how you wanna spend your picks, guys.

OOC: Whoops. Will do.

Dirnhael was momentarily confused, but did not show it. Still he looked to Fengel, wondering if his friend had heard the same thing.
If the noble swine - then he caught himself - rather, Methilir, married Ioreth, he would hold dominion over Durgil's house, as well?

It was obvious that... Methilir... lusted after Ioreth, but Dirnhael doubted that the man loved her. She was a pawn, a trophy that would ensure him greater stature. The Dunedain's blood boiled.

He could not help himself and stood sharply from his chair. Realizing what he had done, he glanced quickly at Ioreth and then put his hands behind his back, as if it were sore. As the nobles turned, he mumbled. "All that wood-chopping..."

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Ahh, the heart of your true desire.  I am not aware of any arrangement that would put the ring of my father [meaning the right of ownership or governance over bequeathed holdings] nor his station in your hands, Methilir.  Being his only son, I alone and my heirs will bear these tokens."  His ire raised, Durgil stood, "Secondly, another had requested the hand of Ioreth and she accepted prior to any such advances from you or any other.  It is that oath that I will honor and will so challenge you and the king and his decree if I must to see that it is duely honored."

[tomcat]

"Defy the king, Durgil? Is that something you really wish to do? Your lands and your title would be stripped from you faster than you can blink an eye." Methilir knew the tension he was creating, and the Dúnadan noble took pleasure in it, but this was not the place. "Well... the king's words have been spoken and your sister's hand has been pledged. But, let us not let this meeting become one of anger. I have traveled this far to merely welcome your homecoming. Let us leave it at that."

The air of the room was thick, and Methilir's words did nothing to ease the moment. Still, the noble stood of his own accord, "We shall depart. Derufin, see to fetching the horses."

"Yes, brother," said the other man and he stood and left the room, but only with a reassuring glance from his older brother.

"The end of season is upon us and soon there will be festivals and gatherings to celebrate both the harvests and Yule, perhaps it is an appropriate time for our marriage, eh Ioreth?" asked Methilir. "N-No," she resisted. "I am pledged to you, Methilir, and as is my duty, will marry you, but I wish to wait until spring and the King's return."

The words made the Dúnadan noble blink hard. "Spring? T'is months until the spring will show itself. I have waited almost six months already for word, or the return of your brother. I have waited long enough! We will be married soon, Ioreth, so prepare for it. I will make the announcement soon." With that, Methilir nodded to Durgil, "Once more, welcome home. We will talk again soon."



[OOC:] Unless hindered, Methilir will leave the room and the house. Let me know if you guys intend to punch him, or anything. 

[sdrotar]

Dirnhael's head was spinning as he watched to two men leave. He had expected Durgil to play things closer to the vest, but perhaps his time abroad with the Company had given the young man confidence and a love of... more direct action.

It may not have been the wisest move on his friend's part, Dirnhael thought, but he knew that he liked it, nevertheless.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his face still masked in bewilderment. "I did not expect you to defy your traditions so openly, especially on the behalf of one still considered something of an outsider to these lands. I hope the decision does not endanger your position here."

Of course, he realized that Durgil knew that if it did come to a fight - physical or otherwise - that he would have Dirnhael and Fengel at his side. After all, he had just committed to becoming Dirnhael's brother-in-law...

Dirnhael never had a true family growing up. If he were fortunate enough to be graced with one here, he could be counted upon to defend it with all his vigor.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil puts a hand on his friend's shoulder and smiles.  "You're welcome, my brother.  But you know I will defy any tradition that would allow such a preening, self-serving incompetant as Methilir to acquire what is not his, especially since I am here to do something about it.  Yet, of course, all this hinges on the king seeing reason that we have returned and that any decrees he made being contingent upon our being lost would be now forfeit.  Otherwise, life would become a bit more interesting if I fail in that argument."  With that he sat back down in the chair of his house, maybe a bit more easily than before.  "Ioreth, my sister, I apologize for the outburst but it's not just your life and future but that of our families and those whom serve us, too, we must think of.  I know you will do as you must and is right to you, but I, too, will do the same to protect the sanctity and honor of what is ours."

"Besides, this encounter also showed a bit more of his true heart.  I can tell he eager to not only control our lands but those that our father had petitioned for as well, if he knows of it.  With such holdings, the pompous lout would become one of the most wealthy and, thus, influential nobles in the realm."

"All this being said though, it seems that our meeting with the king will need to come sooner than I had expected.  I figured we'd seek an audience with him prior to his return in the Spring but not this early.  At least the roads won't be an issue until the snow begins to fall."

[tomcat]

The quartet watched as Methilir and his brother rode away from the front porch of the house. Ioreth heard her brother and appreciated him for the wardship he offered, but she knew he was no politician or man of the court. He instead was a warrior and confronted things in that nature, where as Methilir was a skilled noble and courtier who knew how to manipulate those that served the king for his own betterment. Durgil could not only risk his status and land, he could risk his very life were he to overstep any lines. Her marriage to Methilir, though unwanted, would keep Durgil safe and would still place both her and her brother in the dominant position of ownership. She sighed, "Be wary Durgil. In battles of this nature, I fear your knowledge is less than your enemy. But I thank you for your protection - and now I must see to feeding this house."

With that, Ioreth patted Durgil on the cheek and gave Dirnhael a warm smile. She re-entered the house and made her way to the kitchens to see to the evenings meal.

The men stood and watched as the forms of the two Dúnedain riders disappeared, only to be replaced by a new one. A single rider casually rode towards the house until he entered the courtyard. He was tall and weathered and appeared to be of the blood of Númenor.



[OOC:] Enter Pethron...

[GandalfOfBorg]

Curious at the rider's approach, Durgil stepped forward to greet the traveller.  "Greetings, rider.  Your name please, and the purpose of coming hither?"