The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

Child of the 7th Age · 08-21-2003, 12:05 AM

Eckthelion fidgeted nervously with the elaborate collar of the embroidered doublet that he'd slipped on for the occasion. The damask material was rich and radiant in striking tones of blue and silver, or so his daughter Tiriel had constantly assured him.

Only for Tiriel would he consent to don such a preposterous outfit. He would have been happy wearing his everyday tunic with its muted shades of tan and brown, perhaps carting about a gilded mask if some hint of gaiety was absolutely necessary. But his daughter would not hear of it and insisted he dress the part.

Both to please Tiriel and to impress the citizens of Gondor, he'd slipped on a tunic in the style of the old days and arrayed himself as Mardil Voronwe the Steadfast, first of the ruling Stewards, with an elaborate sword hanging by his side. There was no escaping now. He'd have to go through with this masquerade to please his dear children especially the graceful young Finduilas who was soon to join their family.

He extended his hand towards his daughter Tiriel, and swept her close to him with a paternal embrace whispering how lovely she appeared this evening. She and her husband fell in behind him as Eckthelion beckoned Denethor and Finduilas over to his side.

After greeting the bride-to-be, he flashed a quick look back at Tiriel. "Your sister? Where is she?" he queried over his shoulder. His voice was calm but exhibited an underlying irritation.

Tiriel's eyes flashed bright with a hint of secrets witheld, but the younger sister revealed nothing as the parade continued its march down the hallway towards the entrance to the ballroom. Just inside the room, they could hear the sound of instruments playing softly with voices rising and falling as the outstanding citizens of Gondor miled about waiting for the Steward's family to make its way inside.

Eckthelion gave one last thought to searching for Siriel but then sighed and shrugged his shoulders, reminding himself to check up on her later. As he strode through the doorway flanked by his son and daughter-to-be, the gathering crowds turned to face him and applauded heartily showing their approval for this wise and wiley man who shouldered so many of the burdens of state.

Eckthelion modestly dropped back and led Denethor and Finduilas forward so that they could bask in the radiance and affection of the citizens of Minas Tirith. Yet the Steward could not help but notice that there was a lull in the applause and a certain hint of reticence as Finduilas stepped forward to take her bow.

Eckthelion said nothing. The look on his face did not change in the slightest. Yet he took note of the difference and vowed to keep his ears open to discover more about what was going on. Within an instant the musicians had again begun to play, and his son and Finduilas were swept away together in the first round of dancing and congratulations.

[ August 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

08-21-2003, 12:05 AM	#156
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Eckthelion fidgeted nervously with the elaborate collar of the embroidered doublet that he'd slipped on for the occasion. The damask material was rich and radiant in striking tones of blue and silver, or so his daughter Tiriel had constantly assured him. Only for Tiriel would he consent to don such a preposterous outfit. He would have been happy wearing his everyday tunic with its muted shades of tan and brown, perhaps carting about a gilded mask if some hint of gaiety was absolutely necessary. But his daughter would not hear of it and insisted he dress the part. Both to please Tiriel and to impress the citizens of Gondor, he'd slipped on a tunic in the style of the old days and arrayed himself as Mardil Voronwe the Steadfast, first of the ruling Stewards, with an elaborate sword hanging by his side. There was no escaping now. He'd have to go through with this masquerade to please his dear children especially the graceful young Finduilas who was soon to join their family. He extended his hand towards his daughter Tiriel, and swept her close to him with a paternal embrace whispering how lovely she appeared this evening. She and her husband fell in behind him as Eckthelion beckoned Denethor and Finduilas over to his side. After greeting the bride-to-be, he flashed a quick look back at Tiriel. "Your sister? Where is she?" he queried over his shoulder. His voice was calm but exhibited an underlying irritation. Tiriel's eyes flashed bright with a hint of secrets witheld, but the younger sister revealed nothing as the parade continued its march down the hallway towards the entrance to the ballroom. Just inside the room, they could hear the sound of instruments playing softly with voices rising and falling as the outstanding citizens of Gondor miled about waiting for the Steward's family to make its way inside. Eckthelion gave one last thought to searching for Siriel but then sighed and shrugged his shoulders, reminding himself to check up on her later. As he strode through the doorway flanked by his son and daughter-to-be, the gathering crowds turned to face him and applauded heartily showing their approval for this wise and wiley man who shouldered so many of the burdens of state. Eckthelion modestly dropped back and led Denethor and Finduilas forward so that they could bask in the radiance and affection of the citizens of Minas Tirith. Yet the Steward could not help but notice that there was a lull in the applause and a certain hint of reticence as Finduilas stepped forward to take her bow. Eckthelion said nothing. The look on his face did not change in the slightest. Yet he took note of the difference and vowed to keep his ears open to discover more about what was going on. Within an instant the musicians had again begun to play, and his son and Finduilas were swept away together in the first round of dancing and congratulations. [ August 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.