Carniquesse didn't like the city. She didn't like any city, not Nargothrond not the ones on the coast and not even the citadel-fortress of Dorthonion her homeland. Cities felt constricting for someone like her grown up in the vastness of mountain pine forests and while yes, she did call Nargothrond "home" what she really meant was the land surrounding it, not the system of caves themselves.
She exhaled sharply from her nose instead of sighing, staring at double doors carved from solid oak and studded with steel. While she always tried to avoid getting entangled with affairs of state there was no other spare messenger from her unit available to carry a missive to the King... so the task fell to her. The missive contained schematics and reports from field activities in Tumhalad and she was invited to participate in the briefing but she declined with the excuse that she had no new information to add to what was already written... which wasn't really an excuse, but the truth. She was sure to get a headache if she had to listen to the King and his flock of advisors arguing all morning, she preferred waiting outside where only muffled voices could reach her ears. The room was located on the upper level of the Great Halls, with an unobstructed view of the lower levels. Carniquesse rested her elbows on the parapet and stared at the coming and goings of various elves.
She knew that princess Finduilas' begetting day drew near and she could assume the pair of elves carrying a large keg were part of the catering committee, as was the one balancing a pile of platters and glasses on top. A pair of ellyth trotted by with their hands full of silk chatting about something... she was ever grateful to the dwarven builders for taking into consideration reducing echo in the caves during the time of Nargothrond's construction, she could barely stand a room full of people making noise, nevermind a great hall. Judging by the light filtering in from the surface bouncing from mirror to mirror it must have been early afternoon. Ah, the great mirrors hanged in strategic places along the ceiling... Carniquesse could appreciate how practical they were even if she didn't quite like the rigid geometry that characterized most dwarven architecture. In Nargothrond it was at least mitigated by the elven influence of arches and columns carved in swirls and curls.
She wondered what city people ever did when there were no feasts or other celebrations to organize and outside daily chores. Just... lazy about talking of the latest gossip, knit... drink tea? The concept was so far removed from her own reality that she felt like she could never live a life as an ordinary citizen. Even a day in Nargothrond felt constricting, she already spent her morning staring at a door and it was now afternoon.
Her gaze fell on a shadowy figure walking in the opposite direction than the other elves. For a moment, she tensed, alarmed, then recognized the wobbly gait of Lord Gwindor. She sighed. How cruel fate had been with him, returned from captivity broken and beaten, to see him stick out like a sore thumb in the splendour of the city, he who loved to perform songs in every hall, often with King Finrod himself, and now... Carniquesse thought he'd probably attend the princess' feast out of duty though it would make him uncomfortable. She could relate, even if for different reasons. Mundane events made her head hurt and she'd rather risk her life against a pack of wargs than waste time smiling and nodding to idle talk. Well... sometimes the bards played nice music, to be fair.
The hustling and bustling continued for a while longer, now two long tables occupied the sides of the Great Halls, a bevy of laughing ellyth laying tablecloths on them. Once, celebrations were even grander. Everything took a turn for the worse with the departure of Finrod, the betrayal of the sons of Feanor, yet King Orodreth still endeavored to give his people these moments of... normalcy? Illusion of peace? She could agree with the intent even if on her part it served little. The next day the worry would still be there.
Hearing the door open, she quickly snapped to attention. A few advisors exited without acknowledging her. Glancing in the room she could see the King talking still with a couple elves and Agarwaen. The child of Men... after what Curufin and Celegorm did, she was loathe to trust strangers. Everyone else liked him though. Maybe she was the weird one. An advisor stepped out the door with a roll of parchment, handing it to her. "Your new orders. Deliver this to your captain and tell him to make copies for the other units in the plains. Ride fast and stay safe out there". She took the scroll, bowed and turned on her heels, glad to finally leave the caves and return to her post in the wilderness. She felt like she wasted her day, but such a thought should stay in her head. She was going to ask for a double patrol to make up for it the next day. Yes, she was a strange elf... not that she ever cared what others thought of her. They can have their peace, and she would fight to keep it, always and ever.
