Kizár Elená Durin · @SilmarilNaro
30th Jul 2015 from TwitLonger
Quest-verse: Contemplating the Journey East
After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sn5jka
Shangraile and Kizár talking about the path ahead.
@SilmarilNaro @Gyrfalconsheart
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Shangraile
Shangraile sat cross-legged on a rock at the very water's edge, listening to the crashing of the waves against the shore, letting the echoes sink into his own self, letting the touch of the elements align him with this world again. When he had learned to do this, to adjust to the worlds he was thrown into, he had sat on a crashed piece of steel and crystal, outside the Exodar and opposite of him had sat a being like none he had encountered before. He smiled. He and Maraad had disagreed frequently on matters like the nature of light and dark, but they had found enough common ground to battle the more immediate problems that had been encroaching on them, namely demons and the undead. "I once met three fallen stars, and ere I do not find them again, my journey may never end." He had told his new friend and Maraad had smiled wisely. "Maybe it is only one star you truly seek." he had said cryptically. Whatever he had seen in Shangraile's soul, he had remained silent about it.
Like all friendships on his long journey this one too had come to an end on a battlefield. Shangraile remembered the cold, the frost biting into his skin, the day they advanced on the dreaded gate of the citadel... he had died there, pierced by arrows, hacked down by too many foes to be conquered, throwing himself against the tides of un-life, trying to carve a path for others. He had died, and woken elsewhere, in a land that vaguely reminded him of some regions of his homeland. "The man who has learned to live with death," they had called him, a term that oddly fit the longer the journey went on.
And now... he was here. Back in Arda, hearing the waves of the western seas crash against the hills that had once been the foothills of Himring Fortress. Something deep inside him sang, destroyed and remade, his body remembered his homeland as much as his soul did. And finally he had found them, the three sisters, the fallen stars... and maybe Maraad had been right after all and he had been drawn back by one alone. When he closed his eyes Shangraile could hear their song, a soft, sweet echo, like back then, when he had been a young soldier in the citadel of Shadows. But now he could hear her voice stronger than the voices of the two others.
If he looked at it calmly, it made sense. Lady Lossanárë had found her protector in Thedas, she had married him, been betrayed, forgiven and now had a soul-warden who would protect her to the day the world came to an end. And Lady Elenlossë was bonded to Lord Maglor - and Shangraile was far from underestimating any son of Fëanor. Only Kizár remained, and while he guessed that either Maitimo or Prince Kíli might be the protectors to follow her on her journey through eternity, neither had yet bound himself in such a fashion. Hence it might fall to him to become her shield until her true soul-warrior arrived - or finally woke up to some truths.
Not that it seemed to be likely to happen anytime soon. Everyone here was in a whirl to prepare for their immediate departure to Erebor. King Thorin was to be crowned and that meant not just the mandatory presence of Prince Kíli, but also of the dragonslayers, which meant Kizár, Maitimo and also the presence of Lady Lossanárë. A dwarven coronation... if that did not spell trouble, Shangraile did not know what would. And there was what worried Shangraile. Thorin was a dwarf - and he had enough time to contemplate the truth of two known Silmaril and to lay his plans. It did not take the cunning of the Lord of the Night to make people go greedy when it came to the Stars of Light. And Shangraile wondered how big the trap was they were walking into.
Kizár
Kizár walked down the path from the forges where once again Lossanárë was in deep discussion with one of the smiths. She did not know what project it was this time, but if it were not the smiths Losá would be in with the healers. At least she was not pestered to help the Yavannildi, something that had been brought up with Kizár, as she was still totally unwedded. Not that Kizár minded gardening much, but given her history in Thedas, she did not quite think herself a "maiden".
Being outdoors was a relief however, all the rushing around to prepare was a difference to the calm she had become used to on the island. Her own packing was already done, with most of the gowns she had collected in the last couple of years having to stay here on the island, for simple reason of space. Besides which, she was sure Dís would have ideas of appropriate dress for her daughter.
She circled around the pathway that ran along the western beach, absently listening to the wind, wondering what it would really sound like if Valinor was still fully a part of the world instead of hidden beyond the Straight Path. She almost did not see the man sitting on the low rocks until she was almost on top of him. As it was, she on had to veer off the path a little to wander up behind him.
"Busy there, Inquisitor?"
Shangraile
Shangraile had sensed her approach and he had to stifle a smile that she still used the title that he had held during his life in Thedas. "Not too busy... watching the waves and enjoying to simply sit at these old shores again." he replied, moving to the side to make room for her to sit comfortably as well. "I take it you are evading the gardening work of the 'maidens'?" he asked, with a small sparkle in his eyes.
Kizár
Kizár smirked as she settled on the rock. "As much as I appreciate their faith in me, I am not sure I quite count as a maiden." She shrugged, "I try to tell Ëarvendë, but she wants to get technical at me about it." The young leader of the maidens seemed to want to have absolute faith in her, perhaps for being her grandmother's sister.
Shangraile
"Maybe she is seeking a connection with you, a link with her famous great-aunt, something to connect you beyond bloodlines," Shangraile suggested, tilting his head slightly. "and with your rather... cute... appearance some people may not be able to resist believing that you are truly innocent." There was nothing mean about these words, only the understanding that once one had lived long enough, one could not be truly innocent any more.
Kizár
"Hmm, maybe so. It's not like I wish to start detailing some of my exploits as an apprentice in the Circle to her." Kizár said before turning her face to the breeze. "I keep thinking about Erebor and I suspect it might not go all that easy, at least for myself and Kíli. There were some hard feelings lingering when we left and I suspect they will come up again, and with Losá going with us... well it's a bit too close for my liking to Mirkwood, or anyone else with ideas of about the glory of possessing a Silmaril."
Shangraile
"A dwarf King knowing of the Silmaril, an annoying Sindar King knowing of you too - and both knowing where you will be at a certain time, namely the coronation..." Shangraile shook his head, pushing a few heavy streaks of black hair away from his face. "In the old days I'd have the said - let the slaughter begin."
His eyes went to the woman sitting beside him. "Right now I am wondering how we can make sure that you come through this whole, and unclaimed by anyone. And with all the personal issues inside the dwarven royal house you mention things will not get any easier."
Kizár
"And I am considered a part of that household; I do not doubt Dís has made it known the young lass that traveled as far as the Misty Mountains is her much rumoured daughter." Kizár frown, biting her lip for a moment. "Sometimes I miss having a good old Firestorm spell to call on, but if I am realistic about it, I don't want to have to burn anyone if I can avoid it. At least not anyone I am likely to meet in Erebor."
Shangraile
"While I have no doubt your fire spells were impressive - having Kíli or your brother Maitimo slice and dice everyone who looks at you the wrong way, will make the message all the more clear. If you are formally Dís daughter, the role of a dwarven Princess might offer more protection than anything else. When it comes to protect their Princesses, they have a stiff code of honor. Which should reduce the number of problems... and if the elf makes the wrong moves I'll find out who is the most ambitious elf in his court and help a little palace revolt to be born."
Kizár
"Now that brings up fond memories of Orzammar for me!" Kizár could not help but giggle. "I suspect we will have to see when we get there just what sort of trickery has been laid out for Losá and I, but if go into it expecting something and having plans to deal with it.." she shrugged. "Though I think after the coronation is done, I might want to depart again, and quickly. It helps that I have been feeling a bit of wanderlust of late, I would like to see a bit of the world, maybe go see how Kaz-Tarnûr fares at the moment, or even go see what is a bit further east... as long as I can avoid coming to the notice of the Empire."
Shangraile
"Maybe if you we played up your role as the radiant beautiful dwarven Princess," Shangraile said thoughtfully, turning to look at her fully. "if most of the people present cannot think beyond your beauty and get stumbling over their words when seeing you... they are much less likely to attack or to think of you as an ancient jewel. And it will always ensure you have a few smitten defenders who may come in handy."
He leaned back on his arm, thinking of what she said. "From what I gleaned from Jircanor, the Empire is still the Empire, changes and history notwithstanding. You, I, your brother Kíli... we shouldn't have too much trouble traveling there and keeping a low profile. Maitimo on the other hand... he'd stand out, and he'd gain attention. If all I learned from both Jaerindar and Jircanor is right, his legend is still remembered. I doubt he'd be openly attacked... not with an active war being fought..."
Kizár
"True..." Kizár started to think it over. "His height is nothing that can be changed, but there are tall people in any race... but his most commonly mention features in the history books Kíli and I read tended to be his hair colour... and his missing hand." She absently held up her own right hand, turning it as she thought. "Hair can be dyed easily enough, he could go to a dark brown or even to a black, but if some way could be found to make him look like he had two hands, even just a glove with stuffing, or such... something to fool the eye and stop random lookers bothering to take a second glance..."
Shangraile
"The hand... that one is the most remembered. A one-handed elven warrior... and though this may sound strange, he deserved to become a legend." Shangraile frowned, as a thought came to him. "A stuffed hand would be discovered as fake easily, because he could not use and a spell is seen through by those blessed by the Shadow but..." He hesitated for a moment, remembering what he had seen long ago on his journeys. "maybe there is a way... especially if your brother Kíli is as good a crafter as you say he is."
Kizár
"A metal hand?" Kizár said thoughtfully. "Something mechanical, maybe enchanted?" Her mind went back to some of the common devices she had seen in Orzammar, like the water clocks, and even golems like Shale coming to mind. "At the least, it is something to ask if he, or one of the other smiths could come up with an idea for. Even Maitimo himself might be willing to get involved, after all it would be *his* hand."
Shangraile
"A silver hand," Shangraile replied. "during... during my journeys I ended up in the service of a nobleman, who was threatened by a summoner. When the nobleman refused to bend, the summoner send a demon after us. What a monster... it gave us more trouble than I'd like to recall, but Margrave Karlov lost his right hand in the battle. His court magician along with a dwarf of the tribe of the Angoschim made a hand for him. It was made from glass and silver, using my magical blood to animate it with a spell... it was one strange ritual but it worked perfectly. The hand lived, though it shone silvery and the Margrave usually wore an armored glove above it, to look more normal. I *saw* the entire rite, the making, all... and I could try and share that memory with your brother." It was the first time Shangraile had truly mentioned his long journey to her, but then... of all the people here, legends included, she was the one person he felt he knew, and whom he trusted with his life and with his soul.
Kizár
The story had Kizár spellbound a little as Shangraile related it, a small look into one of the worlds he had hinted at seeing. "That... sounds like very interesting course of events," she smiled as she spoke. "...And yes, maybe that memory could give an idea of how to proceed, if not exactly the same, then as inspiration on where to go."
Shangraile
Shangraile smiled back at her, then extended a hand to take hers. "How about we find your brother, and see what we can think of?" He suggested.
Kizár
Kizár smiled and took the offered hand, letting Shangraile tug her to her feet. "That sounds like a good idea. I can also see if Kíli and Losá are ready to work on my sword yet."