A/N: Thanks for that one reviewer!
The story might be going slow, but I am trying to put detail into it. I'd love to receive pointers and suggestions to improve my fanfictions, so I hope the review goes beyond saying "It's great, please continue" or something like that... Of course, you are allowed to..It was just a wish of mine that I get pointers for improvement. :)
Chapter 2
"Ianthe, Ianthe! You will not be difficult, please! Free the lock, and let me in to get you ready."
Ianthe folded her arms, sitting on her bed. "Mother, leave me alone, I beg you. I do not want to go!"
"Whether you like to or not, for once, listen to your father. It is a meeting, nothing more. Unlock the door this instance, or I shall call for guards to break down this door!" Ianthe's mother demanded, being stern now. Softness was not going to persuade Ianthe, she realised.
Elysia went up to Ianthe's door as well, knocking. "Sister, you said if he met you, he would dislike you, so why are you hiding now? Come out and settle everything! You are one queer person; I admit I do not fully understand your doings. But please, for once, refrain from being your rebellious self!"
"If I were not to turn up, then of course they wouldn't want to have such a woman in their household, who doesn't know her place! What for I waste the effort in making a trip up to the citadel? The outcome will be the same, attendance or no. I refuse to go!" Ianthe shouted out in reply.
"Oh I don't think so. Just this once, go out and settle it at once!" Elysia pleaded.
The door came unlock, and the two women outside heaved a sigh of relief. Ianthe was a hard woman to handle, and Elysia wondered how on earth did she inherit the temper so unlike both her parents. "I'm warning you, no dolling me up." Ianthe glared at her sister.
"But you have to-"
Ianthe cut her mother's words off with, "NO!"
"Then at least change into a more appropriate dress?" Ianthe's mother asked in exasperation.
Ianthe's father waited nervously in the Hall of Kings. He had not come together with his daughter, for he did not want to anger the steward in being late. He was growing more anxious by the second, afraid that Ianthe was, again, being difficult for her mother. He knew her temper well.
"Well? Where is your daughter? Must she perfect herself before standing in front of me? Tell her I need no such preparation." Denethor demanded, starting to lose patience.
"I apologize, my lord, she has encountered some... problems." Ianthe's father replied.
At last, Ianthe was dragged in by her mother. She curtsied stiffly in the steward's presence, even though she did not want to marry into his family. It was a sign of respect for the old man, for he had done his part in raising the White City. She waited but no one spoke. She did not look at anyone, but looked to her side instead.
"And why is the young maiden facing her side? Will you not look at your lord? Or is the statue of past kings interesting you so?" Denethor asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ianthe felt a nudge from her mother, and then unwillingly turned to look up at the man before her. She held a very rebellious and defiant look in her eyes, but this was her being her usual self.
After looking Ianthe over, Denethor finally gave a nod, and said, "Yes."
Ianthe's father searched for a more direct answer, and asked, "Yes, my lord?"
"She will do." Denethor replied.
Ianthe stared at Denethor in disbelief. That was it? He had not known how she would be like, how tyrannous she was... But the old and arrogant man walked away, not reconsidering his decision. Ianthe watched the back of Denethor turn back into one of the lesser halls, disappearing down a narrow passageway.
"Ianthe, come, we turn for home." Ianthe's father said, heading out the door. To Ianthe, her father seemed relieved and happy with the decision. Was she really that loathsome such that her father was glad to be rid of her?
"So?" Elysia expectantly asked.
Ianthe threw herself on the bed, still in disbelief. "So? Denethor still wants me as his daughter-in-law!" Ianthe angrily answered, slamming her hand on the pillow. "All he did was look me over, then said 'Yes'! I don't believe it! Where is the logic, sister?"
"So there really shall be a show to watch!" Elysia exclaimed in a light-hearted manner, hiding fits of laughter.
Ianthe groaned at this. "Why do you make fun of me so on this matter? Now I wish it were you who were chosen for that marriage." Ianthe grumbled.
"Oh that wouldn't be very nice. Not very nice at all..." Elysia replied, staring out the window as though recalling sweet memories that only she knew. Ianthe thought her young sister looked as though she were a fairy from some childhood tale that they had so often heard. She walked light as a feather, and had flawless skin that was toppled with rosy cheeks. How perfect her sister was! It totally made Ianthe feel inferior, for she was the opposite of Elysia.
Then it dawned on her. "Elysia, are you in love?"
Elysia spun around in shock. She paled a little, then said, "Aye, sister, but speak not of it to anyone else!" She fingered locks of her hair, embarrassed and nervous. It was then Ianthe's turn to laugh at her.
"Do you not trust me, dear Elysia? I will keep this secret safe in a chest, until you are ready to tell."
"And hide that chest from sight, too!"
Ianthe laughed again. "Who is the lucky boy?" she curiously asked, lying on her stomach and resting her chin on her hands.
She watched as Elysia's cheeks grew rosier from the blush, and then Elysia went over to Ianthe and sat down beside her sister.
"It's Leander."
"Oh!!" Ianthe cried in surprise. "That boy who has midnight black hair, big eyes and a fair complexion?" Ianthe eagerly asked. "Who can recite poetry during sword-fighting?"
Elysia nodded at every detail, the shade of red on her cheeks deepening every moment. Ianthe clapped, and laughed yet again. It had let her off for some time upon the matter of her engagement.
"Leander...hmm...Leander..." Ianthe repeated, pretending to ponder over the name.
"Quit your teasing! If you repeat it any further, Mother and Father will suspect something." Elysia nervously said, looking towards the door, as though trying to peer through the wood, for whether there was anyone outside.
"Alright, alright. But indeed thus far it seems that you two are a perfect match." Ianthe commented, being more serious now. After some thought, she added, "We shall see."
"Oh you used my words back at me!" Elysia cried, hurling a pillow towards her sister.
"Children, it's dinner time!" The girls' mother called from outside the room.
"Do you think Mother heard?" Elysia anxiously asked.
"Of course not, Elysia, don't be so paranoid." Ianthe assured, unlocking the door to her room.
The family sat at the dining table, eating quietly, just like they used to. When dinner finished, they all sat still at the table, looking at their empty plates until their father spoke.
"As you all well know by now... Ianthe is getting married to Lord Boromir, and she will not be with us so often anymore. Do you have anything to say to your brothers and sisters, Ianthe?" Their father looked to their older sister, who still looked as dull as before.
"I have nothing to speak of, Father. They are independent enough. I do not wish to corrupt their minds as you might say." Ianthe answered in an equally dull voice.
"Nothing?" Their father asked again.
"No, sir." Ianthe answered in a formal tone. She had never spoken like a father-and-daughter conversation should go, ever before, for she was not close with her father.
"Very well then. You shall be meeting the Lord Boromir tomorrow."
Ianthe sighed. Everything had to come so soon.
"Father, why have you chosen her so soon, without even realising what she is like? It is not like you, father, to do this for your son." Boromir questioned, pacing in his father's study.
Denethor looked at his eldest son, his pride, and answered, "It is time you have gotten yourself a woman, Boromir. As for why I chose her, it is simple. By her build, it tells me she is a good bearer of children." Even though Boromir might have thought his father was not picking out the best lady for him, still Denethor knew, it was obvious the lady looked dull only because she had not the heart to make herself fancy. Besides, the girl's father was of a high rank in the country, and the marriage would've been suitable... In time, under his son's headstrong guidance, perhaps the child might be moulded into a gentle lady, Denethor assured himself. Perhaps it would be a challenge for him...
Boromir sighed. His younger brother, Faramir, had told him of this woman's temper, and of her dull looks, such that he grew to dislike the woman. He detested women who thought too well of themselves and not knowing their place in a home, but his bride-to-be being heard as dull-looking was an additional negative factor.
But he didn't know exactly what Ianthe was really like...