Stone-verse: Winter In The White City.




After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sl90ag

Anvari and Boromir chat.

@AnvariShadow @BoromirAesir @Valandhir
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Anvari

Anvari had never been in a city like this - it was the largest city he had ever seen, excepting a few impressive ruins in Eriador. Without Elennárë's guidance he might have easily felt intimidated by it, but her first explanations about the White City had made the transition here easier. While Thirán and Kíli stayed in Kíli's forge in the Undercity a lot, Anvari became more fascinated with the rest of the city. Raised to have a quick eye for work or business, he learned within days of his arrival that there was much work to be had here, if one knew how to obtain it, and not just for the typical blade-smithing work either.

The first task he had obtained had been by accident, during a stint in what turned out to be a tavern frequented by servants of all kinds. Anvari had pegged the place as low class enough for him to not arouse any troubles, when he had been hungry enough and he had ended up talking to Targon, the Keeper of the Keys to House Aranelaith. At first their talk had been superficial, on work, the city, occupation in general... until Anvari had mentioned that he was a traveling arcane crafter. And no... he was not limited to making instruments of war. At that point Targon's ears had literally perked up and he had carefully inquired, if *repairing* a broken, or damaged artifact would be within Anvari's skill range.

Anvari had as cautiously replied that it depended on strength and type of artifact and of course on the type of damage it had taken. Family heirlooms could be tricky - something on which Targon wholeheartedly agreed. He had made some inquiries with his Lord and brought Anvari to the Noble Houses' Seat in sixth ring the same evening.

Experience with the Dúnedain of the North had helped Anvari to not bungle this. Always be ready to bow, memorize titles swiftly and use them at all times, *your Lordship* anyone with a shred of noble blood, even if he is practically starving. Not that anyone in that house was, but he had come across as humble and reasonably mannered, if somewhat old-fashioned. The artifact in question had been a circlet of the finest silver with white stones, an ancient elven work most likely. The spellwork inside had taken damage and made it slightly malicious.

Delving into the broken patterns Anvari had swiftly confirmed to himself that the item was elven indeed, but of lesser make as Aelin would put it. Delving a pattern and then realigning it was a work that many arcane crafters hated, because it meant delving into the echoes of the crafter who made the item originally, and it was dangerous too - it could drive a crafter mad, confronting such echoes. Anvari actually found the process fascinating, he had learned more than one trick from such incidents, though he knew that he was taking a risk each time he did it.

Realigning this one had meant feeling the echoes of an eccentric Sindarin jeweler and his thoughts on a certain Lady... whimsical really, but straining still. Two hours past Midnight he had finished his work - setting the patterns so well, they were almost like new, giving the circlet it's former spells again, mainly to enhance a Lady's beauty. He had been paid honestly and handsomely, the sum was nice and he knew his father would like him bringing in some extra coin.

It had only been the beginning. Targon had been chatty, and within days Anvari found himself sought out by various servants of the city's houses. All of them with the same request, some were very open, their houses proud to show off their possessions from the Elder Days, some requiring the strictest discretion, who were usually calmed, when he told them, that the code of honor among crafters - the Codex Argenteus, the Silver Codex - demanded that anything a crafter learned by delving another artifact was strictly confidential, to be shared in silence between the crafter and the maker of the original item. Anvari never mentioned that as one of the dead ones, he had never been sworn into the Code, and that polite dwarven society would pale at him marching into Erebor and demanding to swear his oaths on the Silver Code.

This had been going on for almost two weeks - excepting the day he had volunteered himself to assist at the tree - though Elennárë had told him after an hour, that he if she ever wished to grow a stone garden, she would call on him again. So he had returned to working for those who would hire him and listening. Because when asked, the servants would have any number of stories on Elennárë's family, her brothers and her father - Anvari knew that wishing to learn of another's clan was something too serious for him to consider here and he told himself that she was a friend, and he wanted to know her clan in friendship, trying to not admit any other thoughts while he went on.

On a stormy evening Anvari found himself picked up by the Captain of the Citadel - a broad-shouldered veteran with icy grey hair, who seemed startled at Anvari's swift bow and inquest what kind of charge had been laid against him. The old warrior shook his head. "No such thing - though I have something sitting in my armory that gives me worry. You are that lad, who helped the Lady of Celosien with her talking chess piece... maybe you can make heads and tails of this thing too."

Anvari had relaxed, realizing he was being hired for a job - and of course he would not charge the guard quite as much as the noble houses. One needed to be in the guard's good books if one wanted to live among Menfolk. He followed the Captain up to the citadel, not without catching a few references on how he looked a bit like Kíli many years ago. Anvari did not tell them, that Kíli was a cousin, but it amused him a little.

Inside an empty guard-room he saw a helmet resting on a table. "This is my problem." The Captain told him. "That thing was resting peacefully in an abandoned armory down in third ring, and was dug up last year. Since then three people who wore it, claimed to be seeing things, one actually went crazy and ran out into the streets screaming... and the last to wear it started talking in tongues, seeing "things" everywhere. I yanked that thing off the main armory and I want to know what it does."

Anvari leaned over the helmet, studying it. It was of Númenoran design, no doubt there, and ancient, it might pre-date the founding of Gondor, or have been made in Gondor's early years. Touching it, Anvari delved the pattern, only to be flooded with impressions, like he was standing in a ghostlike version of the city, hearing whispers impend on him. It took him a struggle to yank free, and return to his body. Shaking he had to grab the table to support himself, beyond the whispers, he had a strong sense of the crafter and his art... a fascinating one too. "This helmet was not meant for a normal soldier, Captain." he said after a moment. "It was made for someone with the ancient gift..." he was searching for the correct term. "a dreamer? No... Mindwalker, that's what you call them I think. For someone to walk the world of dreams, or the Spirit realm, to enhance an already existing talent. Any man not fully trained, will be driven mad by this thing for certain. Though... it might be useful if you ever need to communicate with a restless spirit."

The Citadel Captain frowned deeply. "I wonder what other junk of a bygone age is dreaming along in our armories," he grumbled. "and dangerous dark things like that. Listen, young One, what you call Mindwalkers... was not an art practiced in the Light. Do you know of any way to destroy this thing safely?"

Anvari frowned for a moment, he was not quite sure that the Captain was right about this being a Dark Item. But maybe he could ask Kíli to report the entire thing right up to people who knew better? "I know a dwarf with a smelter that can take such artifacts safely, down in the Undercity." Anvari replied. "If you wish so, Captain, I can have that thing brought there."

The Captain seemed to like the idea. "Will you be in danger from it? You did not even need to don the helmet for it to affect you."

"No, Sir. Dwarves have the innate ability to tap into artifacts at will, which I did. I can touch it without going into the spirit world again." Anvari replied, it was partially nonsense, but explaining a crafter's senses to a soldier was a useless endeavour. To demonstrate his safety, he took the helmet and packed it into his leather knapsack without incident.

Convinced he was safe, Anvari was dismissed from the Citadel Guard Room. Standing outside in the yard, Anvari noticed that evening was coming and fresh snow was in the air. He looked around curiously, he had not had the chance to see the citadel itself and it was a marvelous piece of stonework. While he did not *poke* around, he took his time walking back towards the gate.


Boromir

Boromir stepped out of the Citadel, glancing at the courtyard where Elennárë had been doing work to help sustain the White Tree. He knew what she had told him, in private, and the Tree still being alive, but without her insight into the spirit within it, the plant he could see with his eyes still looked practically dead. She had made mention of wishing she could tear up the paving, but knew that was unfeasible, turning to tear up the grass where the Tree's roots were accessible. The area was now quiet, the day's work ended, but the string fences around the work area were visible even under a fresh layer of snow.

Since returning to the city, Boromir had his time taken up by detailed meetings discussing the intended journey north, issues that he would personally negotiate with King Darghûn, and also matters he needed to look into in the city in his role as Lord Captain. It made him feel like there was no end to the demands on his attention and what little time he could grab where he could relax for even a few moments were welcome.

For whatever reason, his father had allowed him to go, spend an evening to rest. There had been an odd look there in his eyes that seemed almost on the edge of both amusement and exasperation that indicated his father's tendency to always know so much more than expected seemed to holding true, yet again.

As he left the upper courtyard and headed down into the lower that led towards the steps down to the barracks he spotted a short figure that he could easily guess was one of only three people. He held up a hand in a wave, jogging a little to cross the space.

"Well met, Anvari," he greeted. "Are you heading down into the Undercity?" He asked, trying not to let himself be distracted by the oddly shaped knapsack he carried.


Anvari

Anvari was startled to be called by name, and by the Lord Captain no less. Down in Osgiliath the Captain's association with them had been rather relaxed, but that had mostly been due to the fact that he and Kíli were old comrades in arms. Anvari knew better than to misbehave in front of half a dozen guards spaced along the yard. Thus he bowed swiftly. "Greetings unto you, Lord Captain." he replied. "I was indeed on my way back to the Undercity. Is there a message you wish me to carry?" If there was a call on Kíli's work, Anvari could take the shortcut through the sewers and have it delivered swiftly. Though... considering what he carried, he might reconsider that.


Boromir

The formal tone was something Boromir caught and understood quickly as a way of being careful in front of unknown soldiers. He truly did appreciate that, as he was sure Kíli had warned both Anvari and his father about the laws of Gondor and to keep quiet on the issue of Boromir's own *friendship* with Kíli, as well as not openly referring to Anvari's other parent.

"I had hoped to speak to him briefly in person, before I retired for the evening, so perhaps I may be able to walk with you," Boromir replied with a measure of mirroring caution as to what may be heard.


Anvari

"Of course, Lord Captain." Anvari kept to the formal tone, though in the other warrior's gaze he spotted the same friendly expression he had seen in Osgiliath. With a slight bow, he turned on his way, continuing towards the citadel gate and then taking a sharp turn to the side, into an alleyway that ran at the backside of the high houses of sixth ring. It was almost empty at this time of the day, except for the odd late servant bringing something to kitchens. Anvari knew it connected to a long flight of stairs, which led down towards seventh ring in the shadow of little inhabited backyards. He had not even thought about it - until he realized that this was hardly the road someone of noble blood would take - the servant's alley. "I... I apologize for my choice of path, I was not thinking." he said.


Boromir

Boromir gave a soft laugh. "No, I commend you for finding it," he answered. "While most of the nobility would publicly disavow using the service alleys to get around, those who want a quicker path will go whatever way works best. I admit it is one of my favoured paths to get down to the lower levels quickly, and without being noticed much." A small grin crossed his lips as he thought about how he had come this way specifically to visit Kíli before.


Anvari

There was something to Boromir's smile that made Anvari wonder - he seemed to have more need to go down to the Undercity than anyone of his station should. Which brought his thought back to Kíli. "If I were some of the... more unsavoury characters down in the Undercity, I would be worried that the Lord Captain knows the short-cuts through the city so well." Anvari replied, they were now safely away from the guards and other ears, which made talking as long as it was kept low, safe again.


Boromir

"Even the son of the Lord Steward can have some questionable habit in his youth, coming down to the Undercity in secret to indulge in some rough drink was one of my few true misdemeanours." Boromir knew he had quite a clean record of behaviour, but spending time in Undercity taverns with a few of his fellows in the army was one of the things that he considered innocent enough when it came to questionable habits. Certainly it was a misdemeanour that would have been taken far more lightly than if he had truly been caught with one of his previous romantic partners.


Anvari

Anvari chuckled at that - Boromir could probably not get into a tavern brawl without word making it back to his father - which was not exactly what one might call easy. "If a rough ale followed by the habitual tavern brawl is already a misdemeanour, then there are entire countries of misbehavers up North." He replied in an easy tone. Even Prince Elrohir and his men could get a bit... rough... over too much good wine, and no one would think the worse of them after. Anvari looked at the man walking beside him through the dark alleys, he had not expected Boromir to be nervous, and he certainly was not - but he certainly was familiar with the empty alley they walked. While Anvari certainly wanted to know more about Boromir, he was not quite sure how to begin a conversation with him. One that did not sound presumptuous, or awkward. "Kíli mentioned in passing that you considered going North as well, come Spring." he finally said.


Boromir

"Ahh that is true, " Boromir admitted. "It was once a youthful dream both Faramir and I once had, in our youth, that we would make a journey to see what had become of the lands of Arnor..." He trailed off for a moment with a frown. "Life has a way of pushing youthful dreams down, so maybe it is a little of trying to recapture something of that idealism, and wanting to be by Kíli's side as he goes with you, and also with Elennárë..." He cut himself off as he knew Anvari was not aware of the *other* details of his sister's past.


Anvari

Anvari looked at Boromir, reading between the lines, and knowing some things Elennárë had said. "It seems we all will be searching for some things up North - family being the most complicated of it." he replied casually.. "You will forgive me for saying so - but were your brother with us, I would fully expect that we'd attempt to get into the sealed royal library up in the ruins of Fornost."


Boromir

Boromir could not help but laugh softly. Anvari had a fair assessment of Faramir there. "Very likely he would wish to seek that out," he had to acknowledge. "He also might still wish to investigate into a certain man of the north who once came to Gondor... one of the remnants of the Númenoran bloodlines that remain up there." Even Boromir had to admit to himself he wanted to assess Thorongil for himself.


Anvari

Anvari titled his head slightly. "You might mean the Chieftain of the Dunedain?" he asked. "I heard that he had a great deal of wanderings in the past - at a time when I was too young to know anything beyond our valley. From the times I met him, he seemed to be a good man, fair and honest as far as our interactions can tell. We trade with his people regularly, and while we often disagree on how to settle a land, he gave us never trouble for our hiding out in the caverns of Rhudaur." He was not sure if Kíli had told Boromir where exactly they came from, Thirán certainly would not have, and they usually kept their location very secret. But Rhudaur was a broad description, even with the caves mentioned.


Boromir

"The way you speak of him, he sounds all the more like someone I would like to meet." Boromir spoke thoughtfully. "Until recently I have only had my father's word on him, and Father... has opinions on the matter of what Thorongil could mean for Gondor that I do not entirely disagree with. A well-rounded view might serve me well if anything should come of his existence..." It was an issue that Boromir had thought over quite a bit of late, if Thorongil was the only option available for someone to take the throne, Boromir would have to find a way to resolve his own misgivings about the man.


Anvari

"... if anything should come of his existence that is more than a burial?" Anvari asked calmly. "I do not know about his conflicts with Gondor, though I can imagine that holding a bloodline claim to a throne empty for so long, is cause enough." He thought of Aragorn, of their encounter the previous summer. "He is a good man... I think I did annoy him a bit last summer, when I said something about fortifying their settlements and digging in, to hold out better against the Orcs. Back then it seemed the logical thing to say - though my father always points out that winning by stealth is more the Dúnedain's forte. Now... that I think of it again, I see that he was most likely upset over losing Wildwater's Howe to a raid." He checked his own speaking, nothing of that was probably helpful. "I probably know little that is of real value to you... but I could offer to guide you to him, when we are North. Thirán is thinking of giving our settlement to the Dúnedain when we leave, and no matter what, it will only be fair to tell them, that we are gone. Otherwise they might try and find out where we are. The last person we want to hear of us is Dáin with the Iron.... Foot."


Boromir

There was something Anvari wanted to call the king of Erebor other than his well-known warname, Boromir could tell, and given what he knew from Kíli, he would not consider it undeserved. "Certainly I could get a fair idea of his character and you could address the matter of informing him of your folk departing at the same time," he said.

He fell silent for a few moments as they wended their way through the passageways of the Undercity. "I would note, you seem to have established a friendship with Elennárë. I... am glad she has a chance to have another friend. I have to wonder if you have much in the way of plans after we return from the north."


Anvari

"Lady Elennárë is a very kind... very special person," Anvari replied, trying to not sound weird, but to express his appreciation of her. "the rare kind of person one might trust with dreams, or fancies that other, more rational minds, would put down as daydreaming within a moment." He smiled a little, not mentioning that she was the first and only real Lady he had ever encountered. The very few women among the Lost Ones were grim and hardened, and would probably not have been Ladies in any life before or after their darkest days.

"As for my plans - the way Kíli speaks of King Darghûn sounds like he is one to accept the Dead Ones inside his walls and allow our kind to stay. Once I know my family, and my people, safely settled within the halls of the White Mountains, I intend to come back to Gondor and volunteer myself for the war. If I am not good enough as a bladesmith, I can sure pass for a warrior - fighting Orcs is one thing I learned early on."


Boromir

"That is a good thing to hear, that you would be willing to join us on the war-front again." Boromir spoke with a gentle warmth in his voice. "She, my sister, has mentioned that she would be glad to know you would be remaining close by, and given she is working with the healers, I would think she would be glad to know you are near as well." Boromir knew there was a tone in how Elennárë had spoken about Anvari that hinted at something that might grow in... interesting directions. She had even confided in him memories of visions she had that Anvari reminded her of.


Anvari

"She is a friend, and we don't leave friends in danger." The we was automatic, a thing of speaking in terms of clan, even as the Dead Ones formed clans no dwarf would recognize. Anvari knew he had sounded defensive about her, but he would go where she was, no matter what he had to do, to be there. "And I have a few bones to pick with the Orcs and their masters." Anvari added, his voice darkening slightly.

"With my father and Kíli growing closer, I do not know if he would consider coming back - I cannot really say. Your Easterling captive certainly made him jump when caught unawares, and he almost killed him... I would more than wish he'd stay away from the dark memories, or the chance of being recaptured." There was honesty in Anvari's voice. He wanted his parents safe, he was protective of his family.


Boromir

"I did hear about the situation with Shakurán, I looked into where he was assigned and made adjustments," Boromir remembered that situation, he had only got there after they had been separated but he did not wish to let anything come about again. It did feel like he was pulled by both sides, with his wish to aid Kíli's kin as much as he could, while his quiet and sometimes snarky friendship with Shakurán and Elennárë's friendship with him as well on the other side. "Though if he wishes to stay with the rest of your folk once they are settled... well his first term of service is done, so it is up to him which way he goes."


Anvari

"I think he was more startled by suddenly spotting an Easterling than anything else." Anvari replied, knowing Thirán had been more calm about the matter after realizing it had not been a spy or an attacker. "Somewhere deep down the Iron Code is still there - sometimes I can see it in him, in moments when he simply acts, simply does what needs to be done, no matter who is concerned." Anvari shrugged. "Only time may tell."


Boromir

"The Iron Code?" Boromir murmured in curiosity, but held up a hand as Kíli's forge came into view. "Not that I ask to know any secrets of the dwarven people, my first thought is... a warrior's code?"


Anvari

"It as warrior's code of honor that dates back to Durin II." Anvari explained, realizing that he could not expect the people of a foreign nation to know about dwarven history. "Never use weapon's force for personal gain, never violate a woman or a child, protect those weak against the evil strong, fight the battles others can't and never look away from the plight of others no matter what race they might be." He quoted the full wording of the code that the famed warrior king had phrased. "Many dwarves you might meet, will include loyalty to their Kings or Lords, or Durin's Line into their code of honor, but the Iron Code itself does not make such claim at all."


Boromir

Listening to the details, Boromir could not help but think it sounded like a code he could live by. "That sounds like a respectable code, with principals akin to what I live by, if not so clearly defined." At the entrance of the forge, Boromir stood aside and let Anvari enter, before following.


Anvari

Anvari wondered a little why Boromir would inspect their code of honor for something HE could live by. It did not make sense. But entering the forge they were greeted by Kíli, who seemed to have worked late on a blade resting on the workbench.

"Anvari - you are back early," he commented, before greeting Boromir.


Boromir

Boromir moved over to greet Kíli with a hug. "I would hope you do not mind my staying here for a while this evening, with all the busywork between the troops in the city and everything Father asks... I could do with some downtime." He spoke as he found a spot to sit down.


Kíli

Kíli returned the hug firmly, with a smile. "You are always welcome to stay here," he replied. He exchanged a short glance with Anvari. "Thirán is over with Linna - and you will want some food as well. Whatever work you brought along, it can wait till tomorrow." With a short finger gesture he asked Anvari to give them some space, which the younger dwarf consented to with a grin and shot off.

Kíli settled to sit down with Boromir. "With the way the city is brimming, I did not expect you to have much time... or room to breathe. All the more I am glad you are here."


Boromir

"I have to wonder how my father always seems like he knows everything, he certainly picked up that I was feeling strained and let me go without being held in yet another meeting, or making an appearance at one or other inane party on of the lords are throwing." The parties were a common factor in the winter, a way for the upper class to spend the darkest parts of the season and play the usual game of trying to outdo each other. More often than not Boromir would be pressed by subtle attempts by people seeking to charm him, for everything from simple approval to young ladies looking to land the son of the Steward as a husband.


Kíli

"Maybe he just knows you very well?" Kíli asked, any father would notice a son being strained and tired, and possibly Denethor knew how much Boromir detested the parties and balls in the noble circles. "Or... he may have known about some plot by some noble house to ensnare you and chose to foil it by not having you attend but by appearing himself. Because you are right - he knows more of what goes on in this city, than any other man, head of the city guard included." Kíli had encountered Denethor's uncanny knowledge before, but never felt threatened by it, he preferred a sharp, witty Lord of the Land to a naive and dull one any day.


Boromir

"I would hope so, I know I keep worrying over what he would think of many things,,, but sometimes it is a relief to think sometimes he is simply Father." For a moment he simply sat, leaning into Kíli's presence. "I do think he will soon have all the information collected for what he would have me take with us when we head into the mountains, so that is another thing. He is however curious about how much Elennárë can truly do with the White Tree and has been expressing more interest in her because of it."


Kíli

"That is a good thing, is it?" Kíli asked. "If he takes to her a bit, it will put more credence to her story... and who knows, maybe your father would have wanted a daughter, if he had had that choice." He leaned closer, slipping an arm around Boromir. "What you say sounds like we could depart soon for the Mountains."


Boromir

"I know I am hoping we may soon do so." Boromir answered, turning a bit to hold Kíli more securely. "I know the snow remaining will not make the path too easy, but I feel eager to set out already."


Kíli

"We can make part of the journey underground, by using some of the old dwarf roads, to reach the Valley of Echoes, where the Hidden Kingdom's gates are." Kíli replied. "It will spare us some of the troubles of climbing the mountains in winter." He titled his head a bit. "I too am eager to go... for many reasons. Though especially that I like the idea of you coming to see the Hidden Kingdom."


Boromir

"I will confess the idea of knowing there is another kingdom hidden right in the heart of Gondor is something that makes me very curious, and being able to see it in person..." he smiled. "I may not have a clear idea in mind of what a dwarven kingdom would be like, so to see one that I know is so close at hand is something of a treat."


Kíli

"The Hidden Kingdom may be a bit different from other dwarven realms... though I could not tell much, having only seen Cardemir and Erebor for a short while." Kíli said. "her people are different in some aspects for sure. And while the foundation of the Hidden Kingdom is the riddle of dwarven history... after having lived the better part of my life inside Gondor, I understand very well why Tiorvi's heart remained here." Kíli replied, his fingers lightly tracing over Boromir's hand.


Boromir

Boromir turned his hand to catch Kíli's fingers and stoke a thumb over them. "Maybe we could retreat to more private rooms to... discuss that in detail?" He asked with a small, suggestive grin.


Boromir

"I would like that," Kíli replied, his eyes sparkling. "a lot." He leaned close as a he rose to feather a kiss on Boromir's cheek, before leading him to the more hidden bedroom. Even with the changes he had made to accommodate Anvari and Thirán, that room had not changed since that first night they had shared here... and Kíli did not want it to change any time soon.


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