Chapter 18: Ivriniel

Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor

Third Age 3020, September

-Claire-

Yeah, I ran from the table. So sue me.

I had said it in my head so many times and to Erchirion back in Ithilian, but hearing Lothiriel say it was just too much. I had been having such a great time. Aranel looked so beautiful and happy and Amrothos was as exuberant as ever. Even Elphir was enjoying himself.

My evening did not get better quickly.

"I see I'm not the only one who needed a break," a voice said from the shadows. An older women came into the light. She was maybe in her seventies, very wrinkled and chubby. Her aged face did not hold the amusement that her voice did, though. She looked rather cross, her crow's feet crinkled in something close to annoyance. Her gray hair, the color rather close to her eyes, was wound in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and her dress was a rather boring style in a respectable navy blue which contrasted to the baby blue of my own, strikingly.

I smiled, not wanting this stranger to question my brimming distress, but she didn't return it. "I can only handle so much of a party," I said, but it was obviously not what she wanted to hear. "I only mean that it is hard for me to celebrate when my friends are to ride to war again."

That seemed to satisfy her. "Too right. My brother is far too old to ride to the eastern lands. My niece, in turn, is too young to rule in his stead, let alone the fact she is female."

I raised an eyebrow, but I couldn't question her last comment immediately, for I finally had a name for this new face. "You're Lady Ivriniel," I said, giving a small nod of my head. "I apologize. My name is—,"

"I know who you are," the old woman snapped. "I know too well. Imrahil tells me Erchirion is courting you."

"I'd say we're courting each other," I said, attempting a joke, but Ivriniel didn't find it funny. In fact, she grew even more cross.

"A woman does not court a man, girl. A man can have his way with any woman he chooses, so he must be the one to do the choosing."

Huh…now, I'd met sexist men, but sexist women were another thing. Sure, there were some who thought there were things they couldn't do, but I'd never encountered a woman who blatantly pushed herself down the tier.

"You are confused by that statement?" Ivriniel continued. "It's no wonder. Elphir told me of your history. Your sister is that tiny, squawking girl my nephew, Faramir, married. And you have another married to a Rohir. Nasty, brutish race of people, the Rohirrim."

"I'm sorry, have you ever met a Rohir?" I countered. I was going to forgive her because she was old, but now she was being just plain rude.

"No, and I hope I never do."

I turned and looked back into the ballroom. Erchirion was still talking to Lothiriel, his head in his hands. Amrothos and Aranel were both suited with dance partners, one of them being Beriana. Imrahil was talking to some courtly looking dude. No rescue was coming my way from this vile woman.

"There are rumors about you," the old crow said, bringing me out of my search. "Not that one believes such things. I only wonder how they came to surface."

"If they're about me coming to Middle-earth from another realm, they're not rumors. Well, I suppose they're still rumors, but they're not false."

She let out a huff that I think was her version of a chuckle. "You seek attention and fame. Young things like you think mystery will make you exotic. It only makes you seem fanatical."

"Think what you must think, Lady Ivriniel. I've told you no lies."

She huffed again and made her back even straighter. "I suppose it will come as no surprise to you that I do not approve the union between you and my nephew."

"After conversing with me, my lady, it shouldn't be a surprise that I don't care what you think." I wasn't normally this rude, but this old hag had insulted Rachel and Kristen and called me a liar in less than two minutes.

Nonetheless, it ticked her off. "A fabricator and a twit. My distain for you grows with every word you speak. It was apparent to me you were not of royal court the moment I saw you in that raggedy dress. No money to buy proper attire, bad posture, not to mention crippled. Clearly, no one has ever taught you proper speech, nor how to curtsy for a royal like myself. You are worse than the peasant girl in there, parading around on Amrothos's arm like she belongs there. That girl belongs no further than a baker's oven, just as you belong no further than whatever job pays for a dress that shabby."

My jaw literally dropped. What the hell? "Okay," I said, taking a step toward the hag, letting her know I wasn't backing down. "I don't know what I did to insult you, but I think you've stepped way over the line, lady."

Smack. Right across my face. And holy biscuits and gravy, did that old broad have one hell of a backhand. I could taste blood in my mouth. "If you plan to stick around, you will learn your place, you little wench," she snarled.

"Lady Claire?" a new voice asked. Elphir had shown up, and took in the sight of my hand pressed to the cheek his aunt had slapped. "Aunt? What is going on?"

"This little twit thinks I have 'stepped over the line', nephew," Ivriniel said. "I will be speaking to your father about this. Mark my words, she will be gone from this castle in mere hours when I have my way. I thought that Aranel was unfit, but Amrothos clearly could have done much worse."

"She's not going anywhere, Aunt Ivriniel," he said calmly as my head shot up in surprise. Was Elphir defending me? No, he couldn't be. He didn't like me. Or, he didn't like that I made Erchirion happy. Either way, he hadn't spoken to me since before we arrived in Dol Amroth. Why should he defend me now?

"Hold your tongue, Elphir," Ivriniel snapped.

"You have no daughters to bully and instead you bully my sister, my wife, and my new in-law. Now you would bully my brother's consort? No doubt you will bully my son when he is old enough. I will not hold my tongue, aunt. Lady Claire will remain in Dol Amroth so long as she wishes."

I would have dropped my jaw again had my mouth not been bleeding.

"I think it's time for you to retire, Ivriniel."

The old woman's eyes turned to fire, but she didn't protest. She just strutted out of the hallway. I guess she truly believed she was below the order of a man.

Elphir walked closer to me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Did she hit you?"

"With unexpected strength," I muttered.

He chuckled. "I met the back of her hand more than once as a child. When I came of age, I guess she no longer thought it right to do it again. Same with Erchie and Amrothos. Lottie met it when she was four, but my mother threatened to lay off Ivriniel's house staff if she ever touched her again. She hasn't met Aranel much, but I have a feeling if they were left alone, Aranel would be about as lucky as you."

I snorted rather than laughed, not wanting the blood in my mouth to accidently escape. "You should have some water," Elphir said. He must have seen the blood on my teeth.

"What's going on here?" Erchirion said, walking into the hallway.

"Ivriniel hit Claire so I sent her home."

Erchirion scoffed. "Crazy old bat. Father shouldn't let her out of her house." He walked over to me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and Elphir answered for me. "She needs some water. She got the worst of it."

Erchirion nodded knowingly and led me through the hall and into a public washroom with a running tap. I washed my mouth out, savoring the fresh taste of the water ridding it of the blood.

"Did you talk to her or did she simply hit you?" Erchirion asked when I was finished. "Because I've gotten the slap for simply coughing during breakfast."

"Your father lets her just hit you all like that?" I asked.

"Well, he tells her off, but she just ignores him. Though, the one time she hit Lottie was the last. She even took a swing at Beriana once, but Elphir nearly choked her. Amrothos was scared to leave Aranel alone with her. I should have known she'd pounce on you at her first chance. What did she say to you?"

"She…she insulted Rachel and Kristen then proceeded to insult me."

He waved a hand. "She finds no pleasure in anything but herself, Claire. Don't let that old bat's words trouble you. I swear she sits up late into the night just to think of fresh insults."

"She called me a liar," I muttered, opening the door and walking back into the hallway.

"See what I mean? She can't even think of proper insults. She could only speak her own lies."

"But she was right," I said, stopping to lean against the wall. "She didn't know it, but she was right. I know you don't want to, Erchirion, but we need to tell your father the truth about my leg."

"Claire, we're not lying to my father."

"But we're not telling the truth, either. I never wanted to keep it a secret, but I've gone out of my way to keep him from knowing. I don't like it. I've already lied to your father back in Emyn Arnen—,"

"Which he has forgotten about, as promised."

"You're missing the point."

He let out a sigh and leaned against the wall with me. "You're right. Of course you're right."

My head jerked up in surprise. "Wow, you gave in pretty easy."

"Lothiriel already had me convinced. She's smarter than I give her credit for."

"And what else did Lothiriel convince you of during your rather long conversation?"

"Nothing," he answered just a little too fast.

I rolled my eyes. He would tell me sooner or later. It had become apparent that he couldn't keep secrets from me. He always ended up spilling them anyways. "Let's get back to the party before Amrothos notices we're gone. I'd rather not sit through a meal with his two-sided comments again."

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