Findie - Tuesday, March 26, 2002, 4:24 PM

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Chandelier Room

A majestic cavern of unequaled awe stretches before you. A huge space, perhaps five hundred meters long and nearly that equal wide as well as high. What is the most amazing feature is the unbelievably huge crystalline forms hanging from the ceiling overhead. They are each as tall as a several level building and the mass of a hundred men. There are twelve of different sizes through the hall, sparkling in the lamplight. They are pure white, not clear, but refract the light none the less. Other lesser crystal formations grow from the walls, but oddly, a huge banquet table is here, made to follow the random bends in the floor. It must seat several hundred of many sizes. There is a passage leading back to the administrative section of the caves, and there is also a rough stairway leading down on another wall which is well lit.

Table code is in effect here. Type thelp for table commands.

The mood in this great chamber is one of dignity, for it is the King's supper. And yet, there is a feeling of calm and relaxation. The day is past, and folk fill their bellies with the bounty earned from their daily toil.

At the head of the table sits Finrod Felagund, and on his right and his left sit his daughter Finduilas and his cousin Curufin. Folk of their household and entourage sit nearby. The meal has been cleared away, and now they enjoy small pastries and the drinks of their choice. Curufin appears to be continuing a conversation:

"Celegorm and I did hold somewhat of a debate today. I have a book which saith that the toad and the spider do venemously destroy each other. But my brother saith that the toad doth devour the spiders, remaining himself unharmed."

Busy topping up glasses of wine, the squire Curundil seems fascinated by Curufin's words, almost to the point of overfilling that Prince's glass. He stops himself just in time, though the wine now fills the glass to the extent that a slight meniscus is all that prevents overflow. Curundil glances worriedly at the glass and the tablecloth it is on, as if trying to figure out some way to decrease the wine in it without the Prince noticing that does not involve surreptitious sipping.

It is nearing the end of the dinner. The food has been fine and plentiful, and the wine has flowed freely. Holding a half-empty glass of wine in her hand, and talking pleasantly with the lord seated next to her, Istyarwen takes a sip while looks around at the presents till her gaze reaches the head of the table. It remains there, listening at the words of Curufin. Dropping carefully the empty glass on the table, the lady leans her chin upon her hand, seeming lost in thought.

"Perhaps you are both correct," Finrod says with a smile to his cousin. If he has noticed his squire's error, he gives no sign. Instead, he lifts his own wine glass casually and takes a sip before he continues. "While the toad might devour the spider and not suffer the poison as a lesser creature would, perhaps in the very act of devouring, the toad lessens himself, even as one who adopts poisonous words as his own is lessened thereby."

Still looking nervously at Curufin's glass, Curundil quickly moves to top up Istyarwen's without having to be asked to do so, and this time meets with greater success, doing the deed, as it were, perfectly.

Curufin nods his head thoughtfully at Finrod's words. "Perhaps." He drums his fingers on the table and stares at his wineglass. Casting a glance at Curundil, he shrugs and lifts the glass with Elvish grace, seems about to take a sip, but apparently changes his mind and sets it down again. "Perhaps," he repeats. "Might one of these villeins," he vaguely indicates Curundil, "seek out an horny toad and vj or vij spiders, that we may try an experiment?"

Istyarwen's mind leaves her thoughts and reacts too later to stop to Curundil and she only can sigh as she sees her glass refilled. She nods courteously to the lord seated next to her when he leaves and returns to her idle mood.

Visibly relaxing as Curufin does not react to the fact that his wineglass is now too full, Curundil has in the meantime happened upon a solution for his error. He fills another fresh wineglass, this one to only three-quarters full and slips it into place next to Curufin's overfilled one. Then, catching the Prince's words, he glances towards Finrod to see if he is being sent forth to find toads and spiders.

At the mention of the "experiment," Finrod's expression clouds. "It would seem a cruel experiment, Cousin, no matter what the end result would be. What need have we for such knowledge? Would it not be better to leave the toad and spider to live their respective lives without interference?"

Curufin's right hand rests unstintingly upon the full wineglass. But with his other hand he waves away Finrod's scruples. "Why, cousin, art thou worried? We will meddle not save insofar that we set them together in one place, which surely occureth in nature. And if the children of Ungoliant be slain, what of it?"

"It would be reasonable even, My Lord, were not them so interested to hunt and poison us." Istyarwen replies to Finrod. "But I agree with you: it would be a cruel experiment for your squire. But who knows, if Lord Curufin is so interested in such a job, perhaps he would like to organize a hunt party and try to catch a couple of those hateful creatures?" the elleth adds softly. "The boars, I am sure, would cheer the idea".

Curufin glances about the board. "Are not any of ye curious to see this experiment, also? Nay, I mean only the tiny spiders and the horny toad. Such, no doubt, may be gotten from someone's bedchambers?" His dark eyes glitter with mirth.

Hovering about uncertainly, Curundil lingers with the bottle of wine in hand a moment before putting it away and bringing forward another small tray of fresh pastries and offering them to those at the table.

Finduilas seems to be slightly uncomfortable with the idea, sinking lower into her chair and keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the tabletop. "Perhaps it would be better not to," she suggests quietly, glancing over at Curufin. "It is not ... entertaining, even if it does happen in nature."

The feanorian lady shakes her head, slowly, and frowns disliked. "I do not like spiders and toads not even as a theme of conversation". Lifting her glass, she takes a long sip. "There are more importants themes to speak and matters more needful to do, indeed."

The king nods at Istyarwen and Funduilas' words. "I believe you should listen to the ladies here, Cousin, for they speak wiser than you and I do in this matter. Surely there are nobler pursuits than pestering the creatures of the wild. Not all spiders are the evil spawn of Ungoliant. When we hunt the wild boar, we do so for food as much as for sport. And unlike these poor, tiny creatures, the boar has intellect and the chance to fight back. Leave the spiders to their dark corners and let us enjoy this night without them." He picks up one of the pastries from the dish that Curundil offers.

From his halls atop Taniquetil, Eonwe shouts, "mux.net went down there for a second. We are trying to find out why, but it was not Beleriand's fault in any case. Less than an hour's worth of database changes were lost. We apologize for the disturbance."

Curufin shrugs. "'Tis well. Such sport is not for the supper table, and anyway it would be good if Celegorm were present, and such folk as are less squeamish." He lifts the overfilled wineglass, and swiftly drains it in a single draught.

Finduilas blushes slightly as she is called squeamish, but smiles gratefully at Celegorm. "Thank you, cousin," she says quietly. She turns her glass around on the table for a moment, and then glances towards her uncle, clearly expecting him to supply the next conversation topic.

The king glances around the table uncertainly as the conversation dies. When his eyes fall on Jalannya, he smiles broadly, "Linnor!" he calls out. "Is it not time for a song? Perhaps you know a song about hunting?" He glances from his cousin to the ladies present. "But not a song about spiders or toads, please."

"Squamish or simply polite, I wonder myself?" Istyarwen mutters while she lifts her glass again and sips. Looking sidelong at Finrod Istyarwen follows his gaze till she notices the bard of Nargothrond and frowns deeper. "Aye, even to hear her songs will be better, I trust."

"Nor ducks, my lord," Jalannya calls back across the table, turning to look towards the dignitaries' conversation with a small laugh. "Alas, on the topic of hunting you find me a little wanting, also - my brother has accused me of too many swans gliding on placid lakes and not enough braces of geese falling to the hunter's arrow." Her eyes fall upon Istyarwen, and though she does not scowl as the ambassador does, her manner cools somewhat. "Forgive me my small repertoire, my Aran."

"Swans gliding on placid lakes is a lovely topic as well," Finduilas replies with a welcoming smile. "Any of your songs will do, I'm sure, I have yet to hear anything unlovely or unsuitable from Nargothronds bards and singers."

Noticing upon her Jalannya's gaze, Istyarwen looks back at her up and down and enarches her eyebrow, amused. "Were you more used to go outside, my lady, and maybe you would find more topics to compose and sing about" she grins widely. "You know, there is a life outside these caves, after all."

"There is nothing to forgive, linnor," Finrod says, smiling to Jalannya. "Your songs are always worthy of a king's table. And a song about swans gliding along lakes will always find welcome in my home. My mother used to sing to me about the swans in the harbor outside her window. So sing to us about swans or whatever other subject suits your whims this evening."

"Indeed, hiril," Jalannya acknowledges with a quiet smile to Istyarwen. "And there is a life within them, as well." Her smile lightens as both Finduilas and Finrod add to their requests for a song. "Your own hand upon the harp would do our halls more credit, lord, but if you wish for another to play, it shall be so!"

The linnor draws forth her silver harp from its sling at her shoulder, sitting back to give herself room, and begins to play a soft, languid melody, plucking out notes that call to mind slow-moving waters and summer evenings. There are only a few words to go with the tune; most is described by the song itself.

"Fair white on clearest blue doth glide

"As swans upon the harbour ride

"Like stars aglow in evening gloam

"They light the shores of Elvenhome ..."

Closing her eyes for a moment to listen to the song, Finduilas smiles slightly and seems pleased. "This is much more pleasant," she remarks quietly, wistfully. Not wishing to disturb the song further, she goes silent. Her fingers, however, move slightly, as though she itches to pick up a harp and join.

The king seems to relax as well as he listens to the music. He picks up his wine glass and takes a sip, then says quietly to Curufin. "See, Cousin, is this not better than all that talk of spiders and toads? Let others worry over the nature of woodland creatures? Let us, instead, accept them for what they are and enjoy the world that is given to us."

Curufin perks up his ears at Finrod's words, and speaks softly for his ear: "Aye, truly, 'tis a passing more fitting entertainment for this company. It was ill done of me to distress the ladies with my speech of battles between creatures monstrous. Nay, then, let them be gay while they may."

Lowering his voice, Finrod replies, "Do not let it trouble you overmuch, Cousin. We can discuss battle later when the ladies have departed. Indeed, we should discuss that topic. Messengers from your brother's realm have returned with news of glorious victories in the North. Surely that is worth a song."

Jalannya fingers still the strings as the last chord peals out, and the linnor looks slowly over the conversants once more. "Uninspiring, perhaps, as measured against an heroic lay," she says of the song with a dry smile after Finduilas' remark, "but to my mind, much more conducive to the digestion at a feast."

"I do not mind battle," Finduilas says clearly to her kinsmen, raising her chin proudly. "I delight in the valour of soldiers as much as anyone else, but there is a difference between the noble pursuit of victory and putting a spider and a toad together to see what they do with one another." Turning to Jalannya, the princess' look softens, and she smiles. "Much more conducive, I agree, and as beautiful as any could desire. Thank you for your song, linnor."

"It is better if you like such songs, My Lord. Unfortunately, nor I like them, nor I am in the right mood to bear them". Istyarwen pulls back her chair and raises up in her feet. "Have a good night, my lords and ladies". She bows and aheads to the door, leaving the room.

"Those who enjoy their own pain are loath to dwell on aught else," murmurs Jalannya, though the comment is for herself alone, and only nods to the diplomat as she departs. She smiles to Finduilas, but thoughtfulness steals away any response but a bow of gratitude for the princess' thanks.

"And a pleasant night to you, Lady Istyarwen," Finrod says, rising to his feet as the ambassador leaves. "My thanks to you for joining us this evening."

Curufin nods politely at Finrod's words, though he pays scant attention to the minstrelsy, and finishes off the second wineglass that Curundil had set for him. No longer keeping his voice low, he rises to his feet when the King stands, saying: "Indeed, a great joy it is that my brethren Maedhros and Maglor have recovered the land that Celegorm and I had lost." A smile parts his thin lips.

Standing for a moment herself as Istyarwen leaves, Finduilas seems rather lost in thought for a moment. She glances towards Curufin briefly as he speaks, tilting her head to the side curiously, yet holds her silence.

For a moment, Finrod is silent, watching his cousin in mild surprise at the bitterness implicit in Curufin's final sentence. His eyes narrow in sympathy and he says quietly, "Such are the fortunes of war, Cousin. But the one who fights bravely is not dishonored simply because he has loses the battle. Though Maedhros may have triumphed, it does not make your part in the struggle any less valiant."

Curufin's expression turns calm and stoic. But he seems disinclined to continue the discussion. After a slight bow to both Finrod and Finduilas, and a simple, "Good evening," in even but not unfriendly tones, he swiftly and silently makes his exit.

"Good evening," Finduilas replies, her brow furrowed with confusion or worry. Her expression smooths as she looks to her uncle, though she does not smile. "I had better be off as well, Uncle," she says quietly. "I'll see you about, I'm sure." She turns, and then leaves in the opposite direction as Curufin.

The king continues to watch Curufin with a look of cool sympathy. "Good evening to you, as well, Cousin." He gives a smile to Finduilas as she departs but keeps most of his attention on the doorway where his cousin exited. After a few moments he sits down at the table once more and shakes his head. "Let us hear another song, linnor."