The Prologue, Part Two: Likeminds

Time has passed, though not without its complications, for which has dominated both Elioriel and Trévyr cerebration and compelled them both to one another’s company. Their encounters were ones of chance and without reason, as neither knew of what would betide when their paths were intertwined. Howbeit, they conversed and cooperated with one another more than ever before, but it was not without an occasional quarrel that left a turbulent and calamitous setting. Trévyr rescued Elioriel from a perilous encounter with two inebriate men, for which stemmed from her deficient capability of navigating the streets of the City, after the stygian sheet engulfed the vivid and luminescent light of day. Elioriel’s indebted demeanour did not last long, as the pair collided and clashed, which left them both seething, and yearning for the other’s misfortune.

An encounter at breakfast, that involved both themselves and their families, resulted in an uncomfortable ambience that was only to be recognised by the pair, as the families still remained blissfully oblivious to their interactions in their entirety. Lord Seyster was as brash as ever, as he described his daughter to be a ‘Gateway’ to his fortune, and induced Elioriel into a private discussion on the eligible suitors that she must start to entertain, as she had refrained from doing so for long enough. It was unsuccessful, as Elioriel abruptly left the family breakfast early and unsatisfied, and she took to the walkway on the high walls of the City to reflect and compose herself. It was not long until Trévyr joined her, and she openly discussed her feeling for her Father, for which Trévyr contributed to. It was as if the evening before, and their altercation, had never occurred and they were both, in their own silent reveries, dumbfounded and confused as to why such continued to occur. 

Trévyr admitted himself, accompanied by his fellow companion Worfdean, to the Houses of Healing after an incident whilst out hunting. It was there that he discovered that Elioriel, though she goes by the name of Emliniel when she volunteers, spent some of her time working below her station, tending to those who require it most. She happened to be assigned to Trévyr, and so it was decided there, that yet again, he was to keep another one of her secrets close to his own chest.

It now brings us to the coming of Spring, which brought jubilance to all those that attended the festivities that commenced in the Feast-Hall of Merethrond. That night, the families, in their full entirety, were gathered in the larger, more beautiful and spectacular Hall for the Spring Feast. In all their grandest and luxurious deportment, people sat and stood amongst the beautifully decorated high-ceilinged ornaments and statues of Gondor's former kings. Musicians played loud and proud in one corner of the room, where a line of dancers moved, with their partners, in unison, following the steps of a learned and well-known dance. The night was young, and everyone was smiles and delight, the drinks flowed, the food steamed, and fabrics swished from dancing and excitement. Some would say the Spring Feast was the finest event of all the year, where everyone who was anyone came to see and be seen, especially eligible young couples.

It was here that both Elioriel and Trévyr were introduced to potential suitors, though they both posed to have their difficulties. Elioriel was introduced to the household of Lord Tyron, and their eldest son, who had the reputation of womanising and a slimy attitude toward any woman that he laid his eyes upon. So, it was not surprising that Elioriel infused her disapproval through her own expression, her narrative that stretched throughout the evening, and the fact that she escaped his presence at any opportunity that arose. Trévyr, on the other hand, was introduced to a fair-haired Lady, whose personality was certainly on of an effervescent nature, though she also posed as an individual rather desperate for Trévyr’s attention. As for the children of Lord Seyster and Lord Farwynd, Elioriel and Trévyr did not interact that extensively at the celebration, with the exception of a brief part of a routinely dance, and a conversation in a small alcove that was initially an acrimonious dispute, though was later rendered a misunderstanding.

Disagreements with their families resulted in both Elioriel and Trévyr cutting their time at the festivities short, and although they left at different times, they found themselves in one another’s company once again. They spoke of their pressuring Father’s once more, the suitors placed in front of them, and the secrets that had been created throughout their encounters. The night was drawing late, and the time to retire was drawing near, though they both found the reluctance of wanting the other to leave.

"If you wish to retire, do not feel you have to stay, my lady." he nodded lightly, as her words on retiring and circles hung in the air and he was stuck on how to continue, thinking again he had, despite her saying otherwise, infuriated her.

Elioriel looked to him, and his action and words made her blink, as she seemed somewhat confused over his sudden change. Although she was tempted, she chose not to question it, and instead smoothed the palms of her hands down the front of her dress once more. She bowed her head, and then in turn lowered herself to curtesy, before she spoke; ''I was not staying because I felt like I had to, my Lord, but I should retire for the evening. Goodnight...'' She trailed off, as she prepared herself to leave once more.

He was not sure what was going on and her parting sentence made him even more confused. She seemed defensive when he brought up her work, but then said she was not cross with him, but she spoke on leaving, but then she made that last comment. Without thinking clearly, with the aim of trying to be understanding, his hand reached forward so his hand curled around her elbow. "Wait, what do you mean by that? Not staying because you felt you had to?" he even questioned if he heard it correctly. Either way, he needed to understand what made things suddenly change during their conversation.

She had taken a few steps forward, as she had expected him to allow her to go, given his previous statement. His touch shocked her, as it was the last thing she would have expected, and even that, she still does not think that would have never crossed her mind. She spared a glance over her shoulder, though her body turned to face him entirely, as she shook her head; ''You said that I did not have to stay if I felt like I have to, and that is where I disagreed. I did not stay here because I felt like I had to, my Lord…'' She paused, and her shoulders rolled a little; ''I stayed because I-I... Wanted to.''

Trévyr looked down upon her as she turned to face him, his hand still lightly grasping her elbow form when he urged her to remain. When she said that admission, however, his expression altered considerably. His commonly dark and stern expression softened, such an admission from her, of all people, he knew, could not have been easy. But she was leaving? "Then why are you going?" he asked. After all, it was she who said about retiring to save them repeating, this is why he was confused. His hand then became focus and the texture of her dress, on her elbow, made his eyes drop down to it.

Elioriel had expected his hand to lower, as she had lowered hers when she touched him earlier in their encounter, though she did not shy away from such a touch when it was provided. His expression was noted, and in turn, it made hers soften into one that merged well with this. She did not know what to make of the situation, especially now that she had realise what she had said, and so, she found herself explaining once more; ''It is late, my Lord. And, well, we cannot stay out here for much longer before there will be someone coming to look for us.''

He was on the verge of saying something, yet again, but it was interrupted, and she beat him to the punch. His hand then fell from her elbow and rested by his side, where his fingers flexed, then closed. "Perhaps you are right..." he admitted. "No you are right. Goodnight, my Lady..." he followingly said, bowing himself to her.

Elioriel watched him curiously, as she suspected that he was holding back once more, though she still resisted on pursuing her thoughts any further. Instead, as he agreed with her, she dipped her knee to curtesy; ''Goodnight, my Lord...'' She then turned, in order to take herself away from the situation that rested between them, though before she found herself moving toward the staircase, she looked back to him a final time before she then moved out of sight.

He watched the empty space she once occupied for several moments, then rolled his eyes too himself as he slumped back against the wall, muttering something to himself.

This section consists of extracts from RP.