[Elora]

Pelien's Luncheon

Dryea's appearance signalled the end to Ruiel's inclination towards stiff patience. She watched her daughter enter, flawlessly elegant and beautiful and nodded slowly in approval.

"Fairest jewel in all of Arda, as should be," she admitted, noting the flush of her daughter's cheeks. "Of course, had you observed the courtesy of punctuality, you would not have needed to run like an unruly child in order to meet me," she finished. Dryea shook her head, protesting her innocence. "But I did not run, mother!"

Indeed, Ruiel inwardly said as another thought shot through like swift lightening. Surely that young callow fool had not intruded here, right under her nose!

"Then perhaps after this luncheon of Pelien's it is best you rest somewhat. Becoming as a peaked appearance is on you, Dryea, I will not have an unseasonable chill rendering you bedridden at this important time." Ruiel turned to collect her intricate stole of beaded lace, autumn colours in the beads firing in the bright mid-morning light as she wrapped it around her shoulders. She missed the strange mixture of relief, bitter disappointment and even pain in her daughter's face as she realised what truly concerned her mother was not the health of her daughter. By the time Ruiel had her stole in place, Dryea had schooled her features into a more acceptable serenity.

"I cannot wait for your younger sister any longer. Ranne will see that Alethea gets herself to the luncheon, or both will regret it," Ruiel said with clear impatience. Dryea nodded and offered an obedient "Yes, Mother," as she inwardly pleased for Alethea to appear as immediately as she may, perhaps even 5 minutes ago if she could contrive it.

Together, mother and daughter swept out into the halls and made their way to Pelion's apartments. Their fans were languidly waving before their faces, concealing their lips as they spoke guardedly.

"You are aware that the rumours have grown apace," Ruiel stated demurrly, pointing out a porcelain vase that stood proudly on display upon a marble plinth.
"Yes, mother," Dryea confirmed, nodding her appreciate of the vase's elegant sophisication in it curved design.
"Ranne is well placed in close proximity to the bride," Ruiel continued as the nodded at whatever new purloined artwork appeared next. Ironically, it was a piece of work from Umbar, proudly flouted for all Gondorian nobles to see. Anger flashed through Ruiel that she tightly wound back into place. She needed her wits to deal with Pelien, and hot anger ill served for this.

"Is that wise," Dryea asked with surprising directness.
"It was not my doing, but most fortuitous daughter," Ruiel firmly replied. Pelien's apartments were very near. "You know what we must do here," Ruiel added. It was a difficult line to walk. They must appear as accessible and safe to Finduilias as she became further alienated in her new court. They must befriend those nobles from Dol Amroth to further embed their assumed identities. Certainly that was progressing well for many remembered Morthaniawen from the long years spent in Dol Amroth still. A opportunity to be taken advantage of. A wary eye must be kept on Gondor too. Minas Tirith must never suspect Morthaniawen was other than the ally it had thus far come to believe was so.

Only ensconsed in the bosoms of the competing factions could they remain aware of the shifting tides of opinion and politics. To play them off, fracturing Gondor from within, that was their game. The Steward overthrown and his nobles in disarray, civil strife, a country weakened from within. It was no easy task to fight this war within the confines of civilised court where subtle battle was given at luncheons and feasts.

The doors to Pelien's apartments were thrown back as they arrived. Dryea and Ruiel entered with graceful smiles of warmth, dazzling in their refined opulence. Once again, it was with a keen eye that Ruiel studied who had arrived. Pelien's guests would tell her much, and those omitted or absent more. Ranne had best find Alethea and attend herself soon, lest valuable information be lost to tardy dawdling.

"Lady Pelien," Ruiel purred in stark contrast to her inner thoughts, "what a pleasant function you have arranged here. Quite stylish, as ever. You have met my daughter, Dryea, I hope."

Dryea smiled with innocent charm, luminous amongst those gathered, as she curtsied for Pelien.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]