Nelchaen-a-Nel; dictated/action

[inafadingcrown]

[Dictated]

[Waking up in a strange place was enough of a cause for panic, especially since Artanis has no memory of how she got there in the first place. But she has had to keep her head in difficult situations before; this was not so bad. A quick search of the room revealed a sword and swordbelt, made much to her liking, which she placed around her waist, and a journal.

The journal keeps her occupied for far longer than she had expected it to. There was a lot of information in it. A lot of answers- answers that made no sense, but answers nonetheless. After a thorough study of the text, she dictates into the book, trying not to feel foolish as she does so.]

I gather that my plight here is not unique and that the prisoners of this place are wont to use these books for communication. I will pose a question, then. Is it common to receive a journal with a name that is not one’s own? “Galadriel” is lovely name, to be certain, and I am sure the Lady who bears it is most pleased to be so named. But I am Artanis, daughter of Arafinwë and I will not be mistaken for another. [Except she probably will. That is totally Galadriel’s voice.]

Furthermore, I would speak with any who have ventured out into the wilds of this world.

You have my thanks.

[Action]

[And with that, she shuts the journal and goes out into the hallway, investigating the castle with the sword still at her hip.]


[OOC: Loss start.]

Comments

[wizard_redfive]

[At that greeting, Dairine suddenly stops and stares, just as confused as Artanis. Something is terribly off. One: the elf seems to have forgotten her own name, and two: Galadriel almost never calls her "child."]

Beeeecause it's your name? That is how you introduced yourself to me.

[inafadingcrown]

You must confuse me for another. [Though she doesn't know how. She is rather distinctive in appearance.]

I am Artanis, daughter of Arafinwë, and I am quite certain we have not met.

[wizard_redfive]

What? No! [She shakes her head.] I could never mistake your face!

Yes, and you are also known as Galadriel, a name given to you by Celeborn...

[And then a lightbulb goes off in Dairine's head. A slight suspicious, no more than that, of what is happening here. Cautiously, she asks.]

Don't you remember?

[inafadingcrown]

You speak of Lord Celeborn, kinsman of King Thingol? That tall quiet Sinda who has scarcely said more than two sentences to me since my arrival in Doriath?

[This is becoming increasingly bizarre.] It seems that I do not.

[wizard_redfive]

Oh. [Welp, that settles it. Her suspicions turned out to be correct after all. This is going to be hard to explain.]

Right, this... is probably going to seem strange to you, but the castle is pulling a fast one on you. Either you're on loss or it decided to let you go and bring you back at an earlier date. [She's betting it's a loss. Hoping it's a loss.] In any case, you've been here before, but as you from your future.

[inafadingcrown]

I read of such things in the journal. [She frowns, her brow furrowing.] How came you to know so much of me?

[wizard_redfive]

[Oh good, she doesn't sound like a complete lunatic then.]

We've known each other for two years. My name is Dairine Callahan, and I'm a wizard.

[inafadingcrown]

And what is a "wizard," precisely? [Unfortunately for Dairine, this is several Ages before the Istari are sent from the Undying Lands.]

[wizard_redfive]

Er... [Well, this is an unexpected setback.] They're people who use their powers to change their surrounds. And also possibly combat, if the need arises.

[inafadingcrown]

[With that answer, Artanis gives the girl a more careful look over. She was mortal, true, but she could sense a certain power from her. Curious, very curious indeed.] A broad definition if ever I have heard one.

[wizard_redfive]

Well, the needs we address are broad, so it only makes sense to have many methods of dealing with them.

[inafadingcrown]

And what needs do you address? [What needs could a small mortal child address?]

[wizard_redfive]

[Rude. Don't look down on her just because she is mortal.] I protect Life, help it grow when it is needed, and stop those who would spread rampant death and destruction.

[inafadingcrown]

[And young. There's that too.] Quite a task for such a young child.

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine bristles a little and straightens.]

Not really. The youngest wizards are the most powerful. But after four years of service to the One, I think I can do without being called a child!

[inafadingcrown]

Four long years, is it? [There's something gently mocking in the tone. Not cruelly, but like an adult humoring a child.] And how many years have you seen in total, little one?

[wizard_redfive]

[The mocking tone just sets her off even worse. Her eyes blaze with pride and stubborn fire.]

Fifteen. And in those years, I've done more good than most adults will achieve in their lifetimes! How many have you seen?

[inafadingcrown]

Well over a thousand years, as your kind would reckon them, have passed since my birth. It is not meant as an insult, little one, but a child you are, whatever you may have seen and done.

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine crosses her arms. What normally would have been placating for her to hear now rubs her the wrong way, coming from Artanis.]

Well, that's still no reason to speak as if I'm not useful.

[inafadingcrown]

You are a proud little thing, aren't you?

[wizard_redfive]

Said the pot to the kettle. Your pride is showing too.

[inafadingcrown]

I am not speaking back to my elders.

[wizard_redfive]

I don't care how old you are. If you want my respect, you're going to have to earn it.

[inafadingcrown]

[A resigned sigh.] If you will excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to than humoring an ill-mannered child, no matter how important she thinks herself.

[wizard_redfive]

[That actually stung, and for a brief moment the shock and pain is clearly visible on Dairine's face. But then her defensive habits kick in, and she scowls deeply.]

Fine. You can give them my regards. Good luck getting anywhere with that attitude, Miss. High-and-Mighty.

[And with that, she storms off into the library to cry alone get those books she wanted. Stupid elvish royalty...]