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Chapter 16
Nemir approached the the gated courtyard that served as the only entrance into the stone fortress that contained the Prince's home. The heavy fortified doors were no longer open in welcome and armed guards restricted access. It conflicted with the pleasant memory she held of the banquet, and increased her nerves.
"State your business" demand a man dressed in the shining silver and blue armor of the Swan Knights.
Nemir reached inside a pocket of her sactual and pulled out a slightly flattened scroll. The message had been delivered a few days ago and contained an official invitation to perform at the farewell banquet hosted by the Prince for his nephews. The paper was thick and smooth, with the a Swan Ship embossed at the top and a wax seal at the seam. It instructed her to arrive a day before the banquet to meet with Thanor, the court minstral, who was organizing the entertainment for the event. "I'm here to rehearse for the banquet tomorrow," she handed him the paper, " I'll be performing."
He guard glanced down at the summons, examining it for a moment before returning it to her. "You may enter." He moved aside, allowing her to squeeze through the small gap and into the bustling yard. Gone were the tables and the fire, and in there place was a bustling mix of servants and soldiers. None gave her a glance as they focused on their tasks. She tried her best not to disrupt them as she made her way up the steps and into the great hall. The commotion inside was more intense and she barely managed to dodge a parade of woman carrying bins full of lines and plates. "Pardon me," she muttered but her apology didn't prevent the dirty looks sent her way.
In the center of room, was small group of five well dressed men holding a collection of instruments. Their attention was focused on a plump older gentleman with graying temples, dressed in a rich burgundy and gold robe. He arms flailed about with great vigor as if attempting to directing an army. Nemir felt safe assuming the man was the court minstrel and did her best to reach the performers without disrupting the swiftly changing current of people swirling around her. As she grew closer, she could hear the man lecturing a lute player about a mistake he made. Not wanting to interrupt, she stood quietly waiting to be acknowledged. It didn't take long for his sharp eyes to focus on the intruder.
"And you are?" the man ran his eyes over her simple dress and vibrant blue cloak, clearly unimpressed. Despite his smaller stature, he managed to still look down his nose at her.
"I was invited to perform at the banquet tomorrow," she handed him the scroll, "I was instructed to participate in the rehearsal this afternoon."
The man snatched the paper, and examined it carefully. With each line his forehead creased and he rubbed his temple with his free hand. "Ulmo save me from the meddlings of noble sons. I have no need of street performers. You may go." He pushed the now crumpled parchment into her hands, waving her away before turning his back upon her.
Nemir stood in shock for a moment and a trickle of anger seeped into her. Her status did not affect her talent, and she wouldn't let him dismiss her. Not after all the work she had invested. "Excuse me Sir, but I was personally invited by Lord Faramir to perform. I'm sure he would be very disappointed to find out that his wishes were ignored."
The man let out a long defeated sigh. His hope that she wouldn't have the courage to challenge him destroyed. "I don't have the time or the inclination to deal with amateurs or common street rabble," he stepped closer to her, his eyes staring intently into hers, "I will not hesitate to have you removed if I find you lacking. Understood?"
Nemir, fighting against a triumphant smile, nodded in agreement.
"You have a minute. Demonstrate what you can do." he motioned to a chair at the center of the group. The other musicians eyed her curiously and a few openly enjoyed the distress she was causing the man. They hid their smiles behind well placed instruments or turned their faces to make imaginary adjustments. Only one seemed openly annoyed. He was a thin but fit young man, around her age. His sleek, long, dark hair fell past his shoulders and to the middle of his back, the style unusually long for men in the city. He was dressed in fine robes similar to those of the head minstrel and his piercing blue eyes glared daggers as her as she drew her harp from her bag.
Knowing she needed to make a large impact in a short time, she decided to perform the The Song of Beren and Lúthien in Sindarin. She only managed to get through one stanza before the man waved a cutting motion with this hand signaling her to stop.
"That's enough. You don't seem completely incompetent. Here," he handed her a small sheet of parchment. "This lists the collection of songs I have selected for the evening. You will have to asked someone else to read it for you."
"That won't be necessary," she stated skimming over the titles. She caught an unknown flicker in his eyes at her statement, but she ignored it. The sea slug was probably expecting her to be illiterate as well as talentless. She was familiar with most of the titles, but a couple were unknown to her and she told him so.
"Not my problem. If you can't perform to my satisfaction, you won't participate. My focus is on my apprentice, Cellinnor. Tomorrow night is his official debut to the court. And I won't have it ruined because Lord Faramir fancies a pretty face. Understood?" his voice was strong and bounced from the stone walls making his disdain clear.
Nemir refused to lower her eyes, and give into his attempts at intimidation. The magic of song and creation flowed through her veins. He was a swimmer enjoying the shallows of the shore, but never able to enter into the true depths of the ocean. She lived and breathed it, harnessing its power. "I have prepared a song for the occasion. Will I have the opportunity to perform it?"
"Not possible. I have carefully crafted the flow of the evening, and it's too late to add anymore elements. Take a seat. You have wasted enough of my time." he clapped his hands and motioned for the men to take their seats. It took every ounce of her self control not to challenge the man after all the work and preparation she had invested. She knew if she caused a scene, Thanor would not hesitate to expel her and claim her difficult nature as the cause. If she made a bad impression now, she could destroy any future opportunities. Knowing this, however, still didn't improve her mood.
Cellinnor stood at the center of the half circle holding a small, but elaborately carved harp inlaid with semiprecious gems. Nemir rushed to claim a seat for her own, ignoring the curious glances sent her way. She may not be familiar with court life, but a simpleton could see the scandalous stories each was creating in his head. She kept her head held high and faced ahead, refusing to acknowledge them as she placed her fingers in the correct position for the first song. The apprentice started by plucking the tune on his harp and singing the first stanza, the other musicians then added their instruments and she followed suit.
He had a surprisingly warm and rich voice, and she had to admit it was pleasant to her ears. His choice instrument was to be expected as Dol Amroth was famous for its skilled harpist throughout Middle Earth. What confused her most, however, was his lack of grace and confidence when it came to plucking the strings. Once the group instruments join him, he treated it like little more than a prop and focused more on the vocals. Those not versed in musical practices wouldn't notice, but for someone like herself who was playing since she was a toddler it was obvious. The song concluded and she could feel the men around her relax, even Thanor's eyes seemed slightly less tense knowing days of hard work might not be ruined by a random tavern bard being forced upon them.
With only a moment's pause, the next ballad began. There were slight differences from the version Nemir was familiar with, but she adjusted and followed the lead of the talented musicians around her. This continued until they reached a song title she didn't know. As they played, she sat quietly and absorbed the melody. She only need to hear it once and it would forever be apart of the collection she carried with her. This continued until the set was complete and Thanor dismissed them for a quick break. The Court Minstrel and his son spoke quietly to the side while the others rushed to a table where pitchers of wine were provided. Nemir followed to the table and gratefully grabbed a gobblet.
"When Mastor Thanor was informed that Lord Faramir extended an invitation to an unknown bard, many of us thought it was a joke," said the lutist.
"I assure you. I was just as surprised when I was offered the opportunity," she took a long sip of the cool sweet liquid. This explained why the Head Bard wasn't prepared for her. He probably hoped she would be too intimidated to show or wouldn't reach his standards and he could send her away.
"I am certainly glad you did," added a flutist, " I haven't seen him sweat like that…. Well ever. Each correct note you play is a tiny needle to his heart. I am Glínir, and this is Lossion, Hannor, and Tarion"
"Nemir. Pleasure to meet such talented artists. Is he always this… intense?"
"Always. Though this banquet has him more tightly wound than usual." said Tarion with a frustrated frown.
"Why is that?" she asked.
"Combine the shortened preparation time with presenting his legacy to the court, and you have a man that needs a drink," chucked Hannor before following his own advice.
"If he feels so rushed, why doesn't he postpone his son's performance?"
"And miss having the lords of Minas Tirith witness his greatness? You would have more luck putting an orc in a dress," joked Tarion.
"He's hoping to secure him a position with the Lore Keeper," added Glínir
"Lore Keeper?" her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to place the title, but nothing came to her.
"It's a newer title formerly known as the Royal Bard of Gondor. He oversees and appoints all musicians in the Steward's court and approves all newly composed materials concerning Gondor and it's nobles," Glinir explained.
"A coveted position I'm sure," she said.
"Extremely coveted and openings are rare. Appointments last a lifetime and the Lore Keeper usually choices from the sons of current members," he continued.
"What is the source of Master Thanor's confidence that this performance will provide his son with such an opportunity?" she asked.
"There is a rumor circulating that the Keeper will be visiting various noble homes throughout Gondor in search of new apprentices. I'm sure Master Thanor will approach the brothers and request they mention his son to the Keeper upon their return to the capital." Glínir's explanation was put to a halt as Thanor demanded their return. Three of the men, their glasses empty, returned the goblets to the table and rushed back toward their chairs Leaving Nemir and Lossion alone to finish their last sips.
Just as she was turning to follow, he broke his silence, "You don't speak or play like a common street performer."
The statement caught Nemir off guard and she paused to face him, "Perhaps you need to adjust your expectations of 'commoners'." Feeling satisfied with her answer, she left him at the table before he could respond and cause her to delay the practice.
Nemir sat with her fellow musicians near the front of the banquet hall, waiting for guests to arrive. She absentmindedly pulled at the sleeve of her altered dress, hoping her face did not betray the tingling of nerves settling in her stomach. The seamstress had added a wide band of deep blue fabric to the hem to add length. At Nemir's request, she shortened the sleeves so they ended just above the elbow, and the same blue fabric was added at the end to create a small drape. Her silver circlet with aqua gem sat nestled amongst her dark wavy locks above her forehead. The sides of her hair were loosely pulled back to hide the point of her ears and pinned at the back of her head in a simple twist.
Morfindir had commented that she looked like a true lady which helped sooth her insecurities. She felt like an imposter sitting amongst these well dress men and knew the feeling would only increase when the nobles and their finery joined them. She wished that he could have accompanied her, but unfortunately this event was only accessible to those extended an invitation. Even his status as a city guard couldn't gain him access. She was pulled from her thoughts as Thanor approached, followed closely by his son.
"Guest are being escorted into the hall as we speak," he stated examining each of his performers in search of flaws. His eyes stopped at Nemir and the down turn of his mouth caused her to freeze like a deer caught in the sights of a wolf. "Take off that garish cloak. This isn't a carnival," he then addressed the group, "I want music playing as guests arrive and after the Prince's welcome speech. I will instruct you when you can partake of the food. And not a moment before." They all nodded in understanding and he marched away followed by his son.
Nemir reluctantly stood to removed the enchanted cloak from her shoulders and draped it on the back of her chair. She hadn't been seen in public without it since she entered the city and it created a sense of security when she wore it. Not to mention that it helped mask some of her inhuman traits.
"The man acts as if we haven't participated as banquet entertainment before," commented Hannor with a roll of his eyes. "The nobles don't change their itinerary. It's the same each time."
"Some of us haven't" said Lossion sending a purposeful look in Nemir's direction.
"Well she could have fooled me," complemented Glínir sending her a reassuring smile. "We best not dally any longer, or Thanor will have our heads."
Nemir joined the others as they softly played instrumental pieces as each guest was announced and seated. The tables provided were not as numerous as the ones setup during the festival, and kept close to the dias signaling the high status of the intended guest. While the importance of fashion was still a mystery to her, she still appreciate the artistry and workmanship that was placed into each of the gowns. Both women and men sported elaborate embroidery, precious metals studded with gems, and lushes furs.
Thanor approached again to instruct them to pause as Prince Imrahil and his family entered the hall and took their places at the head table. Nemir's eyes drew toward the brothers as each took a seat on either side of their Uncle. She noticed how their attire differed from those around them. While high in quality, it lacked many of the flourishes she had seen and resembled the clothing worn my a high ranking officer. The most lavish element that each wore was a fur lined cloak with silver pins depicting the white tree of Gondor. As if feeling her eyes upon them, their sights turned toward her. Faramir gave the slightest of smiles and Boromir nodded in acknowledgement before returning to their conversations.
The night proceed smoothly and with each song, Nemir could feel the tension within her slowly release so that by the time Thanor arrived to free them for dinner she was actually enjoying herself. The servants had provided a small table away from guests' eyes that contained whatever food was left after the visitors had been served. There were various selections of meat, bread, greens, and wine. They all, except for Cellinnor who was with his father at an official table, quickly found a seat and divided the spoils. There wasn't much time for chatter, since they were expected back soon and no one wanted to risk facing Thanor's wrath. Nemir was overcome by a sudden feeling of surrealness as her mind tried to absorb the fact that she was here, performing for the Prince and his family. Her life had changed so quickly since leaving her tiny village, and moments like these made her realize how far she had come and how much farther she wanted to go.
"We best get getting back," Glínir's voice broke through her thoughts, "I can feel Thanor's eyes burning holes into our empty chairs." Everyone muttered in agreement and stood to return to their station. Cellinnor's big moment was scheduled to take place after dinner was concluded.
Thanor sauntered to the front of the dias, "My Liege and honored guests," he sank into a low bow directed at Prince Imrahil and his nephews before turning to the tables behind him with a flourish. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court. Tonight, I have the honor to present to you my son and apprentice Cellinnor. After years of cultivated his great talent, I have deemed him ready to offer his services to the great nobility of this city just as my family has done for generations. I humbly ask that you lend him your ears." The audience offered polite applause as Cellinnor approached the center of the room instrument in hand.
The night progressed as smoothly as the previous day's rehearsals. When given the chance, Nemir would observe the faces in the audience and they seemed to enjoy the performance. The only exception was Lord Boromir whose glazed eyes stared off into an unseen distance. She thought she spotted his head sink in sleep a couple times before jerking back into momentary alertness. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself and was certainly going to tease him about it if given the chance.
Dancing concluded the night's activities and after an evening of flowing wine, a few of the attempts made were sloppy. Many of the ladies seemed disappointed as their partners stumbled and staggered around them failing to perform simple movements. Naturally Lord Boromir and Lord Faramir's attentions became a popular commodity. As soon as one dance ended, a herd of mothers would swarm the young men insisting that they partake in another with their available daughter. Boromir seemed rather unfazed and accepting of his fate. He would smile and offer basic complements to the ladies, but his choice of partners seemed to be by random. Faramir, on the other hand, was obviously overwelmend and mizerable. He smile was more of a grimace and anytime he tried to object he was easily overruled by the gaggle of women. His older brother eventually came to his rescue, insisting that they needed a quench their thirst after such a long string of continuous dances. He dragged Faramir through the disappointed group and to a refreshment table stocked with chilled wine. Nemir watched in amusement as both downed several goblets in quick succession before sneaking off to hide from the determined women.
They didn't appear again, much to the the disappointment of all single ladies in attendance, till it was time to bid everyone farwell. The feast had continued late into the night, and many of the visitors were fighting the need for sleep. As the lords and ladies shuffled away in their now less than pristine attire, Nemir and her fellow performers gathered their belongings.
"Another successful night," said Galin stretching his tired muscles and fighting a yawn, "Nemir, you did well."
"Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity to perform with such talented musicians," she said with full sincerity.
"I'm sure we shall be seeing more of you," added Hannor as he packed his flute into a wooden case. "Just try to stay on Tharon's good side." All activity stopped, their eyes settling on something behind her. She turned to see the cause and saw Lord Faramir standing behind her.
"Lord Faramir," she dipped into a curty.
"Greetings Nemir," he smiled, " I wanted to thank you for accepting my invitation to perform tonight." His eyes traveled over the four men who were obviously eavesdropping with badly concealed curiosity. "I only wish your talents were highlighted more."
"I was honored just to be included. Perhaps another time." the eyes upon her made her feel tense and she wished they would leave. While she liked the men she performed with, she didn't trust them not to gossip about this exchange.
"Perhaps. Due to the late time of your departure, I will provide an escort to return you to your home." he offered.
"That won't be necessary. I would hate to be an inconvenience, and I am more than capable of walking home alone." she insisted. While she wasn't wearing her knives at the moment, they still sat in her bag ready to be deployed.
"Boromir said you would say that," he chuckled, "I don't doubt your capabilities, I only offer to give myself peace of mind. You wouldn't want to cause me grief would you?"
'Damn it' she cursed to herself. He was clever and knew just the words to say so that she couldn't refuse and use her pride as an excuse. "If you insist," she reluctantly agreed.
"Wonderful. I thank you for humoring me. Wait by the gate and a guard will be with you shortly. If you will now excuse me, I have a long journey in the morning."
"Of course. Harthon gerithach lend vaer. (I hope you will have a good journey)." she said.
"Annon allen (Thank you)," he responded before leaving.
When she turned back around to finish her task, she was met with curious looks. "What?"
"How did you become acquainted with Lord Faramir?" asked Lossion bluntly.
"I met him at the library. He was attempting to translate a document and I offered him some assistance. That is all." she explained as she packed away her harp.
"I find that hard to believe," he challenged .
"Your belief doesn't affect the truth," she responded in Telerin.
"What does that mean?" asked Lossion forcefully.
"If a simple tavern bard can understand it, surely you can as well," she draped her cloak around her shoulders, gathered her bag, and left without waiting for a response. After two days of tiptoeing around Thanor, she didn't have the patience to deal with anymore egoes.
She waited by the main gate as instructed and watched as guests and servants slowly trickled out. With each moment that passed, she regretted refusing Morfindir's offer to walk her home. She shuffled from foot to foot and thanked Ulmo that the courtyard was mostly deserted and she could have a peaceful moment to herself. The last few days had been stressful and she was feeling drained. If she didn't have a bodyguard on his way, she might consider going for a swim. The sound of crunching feet alerted her to someone's approach and she turned to see a tall figure walking toward her.
"I'm sorry to be an inconvenience I tried to," her voice caught off as the face of Lord Boromir appeared from the shadows. "What are you doing here?"
"My brother informed me that you accepted his offer of an escort," she could see a slight smile on his lips even in the dim light.
"And you volunteered? Isn't this task beneath your station or is the title 'Heir to the Stewardship' not as valued as it once was?" .
"I attempt an act of chivalry, and I'm only met with hostility," he chuckled, "There is a mob of women who would happily stone you to have such an opportunity."
"I saw the way they pranced about tonight begging for a crumb of attention. I also saw how quickly you disappeared given the chance," she smirked and crossed her arms.
"I simply wish to make amends for my offences," he looked into her eyes and she could see the honesty in them. " I know I have not made the best impression."
"I would hate to be the cause if you collapse from exhaustion on the road," she said giving him one last opportunity to pass this to someone else.
"I've done more on less sleep," he insisted offering his arm.
She gingerly slipped her arm through his and they strolled through the gate. "Is that why you were nodding off during Cellinnor's performance?"
He grimaced, "Was it that obvious? He sang well enough, but was a bit long winded for my tastes."
"You can blame his father for that. I was certain he would explode when I appeared for rehearsal yesterday and threatened to change his perfect plan."
"I hope my brother didn't inadvertently cause you harm by insisting you be included," he said as they walked through the silent streets.
"There was some resistance, but I would have never recieved this opportunity without him and for that I am grateful. If my low birth wasn't barrier enough, my sex would typically close what few remaining doors I would have."
"You may be the daughter of a fisherman, but you are better educated than most people in this city," he said.
"I can thank my mother and aunts for that. They taught me most of what I know. Ada and Naneth always expected great things from me. I hope I don't disappoint them," she sighed.
"I'm familiar with that feeling," he said a solemn expression overwhelming the smile that once live there.
The conversation transformed into a comfortable silence as they walked the deserted cobblestone streets. Their steps disturbing the deep quiet making it seem as if they were the only two people in the city. They entered the courtyard that housed the mermaid fountain. The bubbling sound of traveling water filled the night as moonlight reflected like diamonds on the surface of the water. It was breathtaking and Nemir didn't want to leave it.
"I prepared a song to sing tonight, but Master Thanor said it was too late to add to the program. Would you like to hear it?" she kept her voice low not wanting to disturb the peace of this place.
"I couldn't think of a better place than this," he said guiding her to the fountain where they first met so many weeks ago.
Nemir positioned herself on the stone that formed the water basin and pulled her harp from her sactual. Boromir joined her and observed quietly waiting for her to begin. His close proximity made her more nervous than being before the entire court a mere hour ago. She took a steading breath, drawing stability from the water and moonlight. Her fingers moved intuitively across her strings and she began 'The Ballad of the White City'. She did not focus on him as she played, but instead her spirit danced with the melody and the singing of the fountain beside her. In her mind, she could see the city as it once was, gleaming and shining in the morning sun, walls smooth as glass, and white as milk. She flew above and along its many levels that served to protect the fragile people with in them. She slowly returned as the song came to a conclusion, her body vibrating with wonder and power.
She took a moment to collect herself and turned to the young lord. His face was dazed and his eyes glimmered. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand on his to offer comfort. He jumped at the contact, but didn't remove his hand from her reach.
When he finally spoke his voice was gruff with emotion, "I haven't heard that song in many years. My father forbade it after my mother's passing."
"I hope I didn't cause you pain," she said feeling guilty.
"No. I am glad to hear it again, even though the memories it brings are bittersweet. I wish Faramir could have heard it as well. He was young when she died and his memories of her a few."
"Perhaps when you return to the Dol Amroth, I will offer him a private performance. Seeing your reaction, I am thankful that Master Thanos didn't permit me to perform it," she said giving his hand a light squeeze before returning her harp to her bag.
"As am I," he cleared his throat and stood, memories once again pushed back into the darkness of the mind. "Come, it is getting late."
The remainder of their walk was in silence. Both too lost in thought to keep up polite conversation. Nemir was fighting waves of guilt as she pictured the image of his pained eyes over and over in her mind. She was so enthralled in her own thoughts that she almost missed the door to the home she shared with Mrs. Gollel.
"This is my home," she said stopping before the worn, grey door that was almost lost in the darkness. "Thank you."
"I hope this means you have buried your grudge against me?" he said with a slight upturn of his lips.
"For now, but don't think I will be lenient on any further offences," she said with a mocking serious tone.
"I would expect nothing less," he reached for her hand. She felt the rough calluses formed from years of training rub against her own as he brought her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss upon it. His lips barely scraped the surface of her skin, like butterfly wings brushing past flower petals. "Till we meet again."
"I wish you safe travels. Fair winds and high tides," she half whispered the tingles on her hand fogging her mind.
"I look forward till we can meet again Lady Bard," he reluctantly lowered her hand and freed it from his embrace. He stared into her grey eyes that were not dimed by the darkness surrounding them. Nemir stayed frozen, trying to intrerup the flickers of emotion that flashed across his face but failing. Without saying another word, he stepped back, turned, and walked back toward the castle.
Well that was a long one. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Please, please review and let me know what you think. It really helps motivate me and let me know that I'm not crazy. Also, I'm thinking of changing the Title. I'm open to suggestions.
Thanks!
