Logfile
from Daifuin.
Lothdaimoth's
Office (First Floor)
The
ladder leads up to a small flet off the main talan. Set away from the trunk of
the great tree, it almost seems to float - a small wooden ship in a great leafy
ocean. Smooth planks are slotted together to make the floor, and a carved
wooden screen stands along one edge. Curving branches are the only walls, and
to the west, they have been evidently trained to one side, leaving a gap
through which the sun or stars can shine. From one such branch a small lamp
hangs on a short chain.
Lined
up neatly on the floor below this gap are a range of bottles. All different
sizes, shapes and colors - some filled, some not - they glow intriguingly when
the sun sets, casting an array of brilliant shadows across the floor. A hammock
piled high with cushions hangs from two thick limbs; it appears more suitable
for sitting in than sleeping. Aside from this, a low table topped with ink
bottles, pens and sheafs of paper with a cushioned stool before it; a small
cabinet, and a single chair, evidently for guests, are the only furniture.
Contents:
Alwennaur
Lothdaimoth
Fresh
cool air flows through the leafy walls of Lothdaimoth's office. The morning sun
is lost in the higher reaches of the great mallorn, but a few rays make it far
enough to light the leaves into incandescence. The minister himself sits on a
stool, bent over the wooden table. One long-fingered hand holds the yellowed
pages of a large tome open, the other cradles his chin. Black hair spills
across a white shirt. Leaning nearby is a sheathed sword, deadly and elegant.
Delicate engravings accent the aggressive sweep of the crossguard.
Alwennaur
slowly steps into the room. The sun of the office shining like gold off his blonde
flowing hair. He should be on some errand or another but it had been so long
since he had been out so he had felt the need to explore his beautiful home. As
he took his first step in he notices the other edhel in the room and quickly
gives an eloquent bow hoping he hadn't done anything wrong. As he bowed he
said, "Mae Govannen, " to the floor rather than Lothdaimoth.
Hesitantly,
nervous in spite of herself, Daifuin makes her way in through the emptier
offices outside, not long behind Alwennaur, but not noticing him as she pauses
frequently to take a curious glance about. She climbs up daintily into the
office, taking a deep breath as she notices that it's currently occupied.
"Mae Govannen," she offers as well, ducking her head slightly towards
each in turn. "Sir, I was hoping I might have a moment of your time?
Though I can see clearly I have interrupted, and I do apologize." She
bends into a lower bow with that.
The
ladder trembles just the faintest amount as first one pair of elven feet and
then another climb from rung to rung. And Lothdaimoth's scanning eyes stop
before lifting from the page. "Mae govannen," he says courteously,
dropping his arm so that both hands now lay across the book; a thin silver ring
gleams on one finger in the pale morning light. "Is there something I can
help you with?" Just then Daifuin adds her greeting and request, and the
tiniest bit of humor tugs at the corner of the minister's mouth as he turns
towards her. "It is of no matter, you need not apologize. What can I do
for you?"
Daifuin
casts a brief sidelong glance over at Alwennaur, eyebrows raising just
ever-so-faintly with idle curiosity, but her attention is brought quickly back
to Lothdaimoth and she offers a small smile, seeming to relax now slightly.
"I was..." Her voice falters, and she trails off, but just as quickly
she squares her shoulders and sets her jaw. Standing tall, she begins again,
"I was interested in becoming a member of the
Dark
eyes, until now veiled in politeness, sharpen abruptly in focus on the blonde
elleth. "I see." Lothdaimoth squares his fingers together, dropping
his eyes to the desktop for a moment as if in thought. Then he looks up again.
"Why do you desire this place, mellon?"
Alwennaur
just steps to the side of the room giving both a small smile and a nod of the
head. He starts fiddling with the hem of his cloak and hopes he isn't in
trouble. He saw what happened to one of his friends when he got in trouble with
Armiel. Why would this elf be any different.
Daifuin
doesn't seem quite certain of how to take the given response, and just nods her
head twice, the second becoming another half-bow, as she stands by, not knowing
what to expect next of this.
Lothdaimoth's
gaze flickers to Alwennaur and then back to Daifuin and a small puzzled line
appears between black eyebrows. "Yes?" he says, and his voice is not
unkind. "Surely you have a reason for your request?" A breeze
whispers through distant leaves, though those that encircle this small flet
remain undisturbed. "Why is it your wish to join the Court?"
"Oh,
yes, my apologies," Daifuin replies, straightening up again. "I wish
to join the Court because it is my desire to contribute something back to a
place that has afforded me such safety and happiness. And as I am not of the
nature to serve in the Order, as does my family, I had rather considered the
Royal Court more to my abilities and strengths. I ask nothing but to be able to
offer my time and energies however they might best be spent, in the best
interests of Lorien and of the Lord and Lady." Words are chosen carefully,
deliberately, yet roll freely off of her tongue; and when she's said her peace,
she again lapses into silence and waits with an anxious yet slightly expectant
air.
Listening
in silence, Lothdaimoth seems almost as if he were carven from marble so still
is he. Sable eyes remain fixed intently on Daifuin's face and when she has
finished, he nods once. "And what might your abilities and strengths
be?" A memory flickers across his face and his gaze darts to the sword and
back.
Daifuin
takes a moment to collect her thoughts, before speaking once again. "I
know not how I would in kind compare to others, and modesty or honesty would
have me believe them lower than those of my peers. But within myself, I know
that my strengths lie more towards careful thought and deliberation, than to
swift action. My aim is truer with my tongue than with any bow placed in my
hands, and I do desire rather to attempt to cool the fires of heated tempers
than to take arms against them, although I fully realize both are fully
necessary for the protection of our fair borders. But many words I use to say
simply that my strengths lie with foresight and communication, over swiftness
and strength."
Nodding
again almost as if to himself, thoughts crowding into his eyes, Lothdaimoth
waits in silence until she has finished. Then he stands in one smooth motion.
Tall and dark, he asks then in his deep grave voice, "And will you take
oaths to seal your desire and purpose?"
Daifuin
sets her shoulders determinedly, though some of her anxiousness seems to pass
from clouding her eyes, and she offers a sharp nod. "I would, sir, and be
pleased to do so," she replies, without hesitation now.
And
Lothdaimoth's voice quiets, yet his words come now with a weight that depends
nothing on their volume. "Swear to me then, Daifuin o nos Aderthad. That
you will serve our Lady and Lord and all of their people, to the best of your
abilities and with the strength of your fae. That you will lend a thoughtful
ear, speaking with wisdom to all in need. And that all you do will be with this
aim: to keep our home and our people safe from the enemy whatever must be done
that this might be so."
Daifuin
listens intently to the oath, acceptance of the challenge put forth glittering
in her eyes as they narrow slightly in concentration. "To all of this do I
must humbly swear," she replies, bowing her head slightly and closing her
eyes for a moment.
For
the last time, Lothdaimoth bows his head. In acceptance this time of her oath.
The pool of stillness that has spread around them holds for a few breathless
moments before he breaks it with a smile and soft words. "Welcome to the
Arnpand, Celdir Daifuin. May you always find your desires and your oaths in
harmony."
Daifuin
smiles softly, seeming to relax yet more now the formalities are taken care of.
"I thank you, sir. I hope I may come to be of some aid," she replies,
shoulders falling slightly, yet posture remaining tall.
Stepping
sideways, Lothdaimoth's hand brushes the pommel of the long deadly sword as if
by accident. Glancing down, an odd mixture of joy and confusion flames in his
eyes, which fades slowly as he looks back again. "I think you will."
There is silence again for a moment filled only by the faint creaking of the
great tree, branches scraping against each other. Then the minister turns back
towards his abandoned work. "In the Entrance Hall you will find the
mission roster. She who keeps it can assist you if you have need."
Daifuin
nods, then stoops into a bow once again. "Yes sir, and I thank you once
again, both for your time and your acceptance of my bid." A slightly
brighter smile breaks through, though she quickly subdues it to a more formal
one, before turning to take her leave.