Tadchaen-a-Tad

[inafadingcrown]

[ooc: Forward dated to tomorrow morning/afternoon]

[The Five: The Knight, The Dragon, The Bard, The Wizard, and the Princess] [I.E. the people mentioned here]

My Lords. My Lady. [Nevermind the unlikelihood of a wizard, a bard, or a dragon being a lord. Better overshoot the titles than undershoot them.]

Your titles were discovered in a book, itself found under strange circumstances, that told of the history of the castles of Cair Paradisa, Libet, and the surrounding areas. If it would not trouble you overmuch, I would have word with you on the subject.

[Action for the library]

[She really should have given up on finding anything useful in this library by now. But, as they say, hope springs eternal.

So once again, you may find Galadriel searching through the stacks. Books on Paradisa or the the Five mentioned above would be lovely, but she’s aware that she’s unlikely to find them. No, most of the books in her pile are… not the sort that you would expect the Lady of Light to be reading. Dark Magic. Specifically, the type of magic fueled by human souls and emotions. If your world has such magic, you may well notice a familiar text among the titles.

Know thy enemy and so forth.

Still, this sort of thing isn’t pleasant and she’s not altogether certain that she wants others reading her thoughts on the subject, so she’s fallen back into the old habit of taking notes in Quenya using the Tengwar script.

Of course, every so often she stops and sets the books aside. The subject matter is disturbing and she finds that she can’t delve too deeply for too long. Approach? Question her about her motives? Ask about the strange writing? All of the above?]

Comments

[persequor]

Uh, you're welcome.

[ Arya fidgets slightly. She has other questions she's burning to ask, but she bites her lip. Even she is aware they're very forward and this woman intimidates her enough not to voice them. It's a strange as she's done nothing intimidating or threatening thus far yet the feeling remains.

Deciding to focus on something else, she leans forward enough to catch sight of Nymeria—tearing the cover off the journal. She sighs. ]

Stupid wolf. Yes, you. [ She frowns at Nymeria when the direwolf lifts her head. Untroubled, the animal continues destroying the journal. Arya crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bookcase. ] Now I have to wait for a new one and hope she doesn't find it first.

[inafadingcrown]

A task, to be certain.

[She can see the child's curiosity and she finds it more endearing than anything. And she's going to call her on it.]

You may ask me what you will, you know. I will take no offense. Had I any objections to conversation, I would not have joined you.

[persequor]

Are you a woman? [ That was direct. ]

[inafadingcrown]

[Well that was...interesting. She's taken aback for a second before she gets it.]

I am a woman of the Elven race.

[persequor]

You're an elf then? [ Not human. The world makes sense again. ]

[inafadingcrown]

I am. [She gives a little nod, a bit more formal than necessary, but with an exuberance that somehow makes the gesture playful.] You speak to Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien and the Galadhrim.

[persequor]

Oh. [ She sits up a little straighter. ] I'm Arya of House Stark of Winterfell, my lady.

[inafadingcrown]

Well met, then. [Not that that means anything more to her than her titles are likely to mean to Arya.]

I assume your companion has a name as well?

[persequor]

I named her Nymeria.

[inafadingcrown]

It is lovely. [Clueless as to the reference, though.]

[persequor]

Do you live in a forest?

[inafadingcrown]

I do- Lothlórien, my Golden Woods.

[persequor]

I heard that elves live in another forest. Is it really golden?

[inafadingcrown]

In my own world, three great Elven realms remain. I do not know what may be true in others.

[A little smile- more than a bit reminiscent of a proud mother.] It is so named for the Elanor which blankets the ground in spring and leaves of the Mallorn tree which do not fall in the autumn but turn to a golden hue.

[persequor]

What about when winter comes?

[inafadingcrown]

They remain there still. It is quite a sight.

[persequor]

I wish I could see that.

[ Nymeria walks over and sets what's left of journal in Arya's lap. She makes a face at the direwolf and scratches her behind the ears. ]

Thank you.

[inafadingcrown]

I wish I could show you.

[She watches the direwolf with interest before turning back to Arya.] And what of your home?

[persequor]

What of it?

[inafadingcrown]

What would you tell me of it? I have described to you my Lórien. Will you not describe to me your...Winterfell, was it?

[persequor]

Oh. [ She fidgets in embarrassment. ] Winterfell is the seat of House Stark. It always has been since the time we were Kings of Winter. They call it the heart of the North. It's an old, old castle. The story says that Brandon the Builder had giants help him build it. Even in winter, it's warm. I haven't seen a winter yet, but everyone says so.

[inafadingcrown]

[Wait. What?]

You have not seen a winter?

[persequor]

[ She shakes her head. ]

I was born in the long summer. The last winter was ten and three years ago. But winter is coming.

[inafadingcrown]

[Wow, she's seen plenty of world differences, but this one is weird.]

Where I am from the seasons each come once each year. It is difficult to imagine otherwise.

[persequor]

[ She was warned as to the difference so she only shrugs. ]

Not for us. We once had a winter that lasted a generation.

[ Sure it's only a story Old Nan used to tell them to scare them, but it sounds impressive. ]