Part 25, Chance Encounter
Mar. 11th, 2005 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamflowerIn which Menelcar begins his life as Court Bard in the Citadel...
PART 25
Menelcar had risen early, packed up his few belongings, and returned to the Citadel, to deliver his answer to the King’s offer.
He was passed into the Citadel and received by the Chamberlain, a Man by the name of Ondahil, who had served in the White Tower under Denethor’s chamberlain.
“Master Menelcar, welcome. I have been told of the possibility that you might come to give us the answer to King Elessar’s offer. Will you accept it, and become his Court Bard?”
Menelcar noted the careful politeness of Master Ondahil’s phrasing, while his eyes and face carried a studied neutrality. There was neither warmth nor enthusiasm in his greeting, but Menelcar knew that he would be having to prove himself to the old guard. Most of the staff at the Citadel had been there under Denethor, and were still trying to find their way in the new order of things.
“Yes, Master Ondahil, I have indeed, decided to accept His Grace the King’s most generous offer. I would be foolish indeed to pass up the opportunity to witness firsthand the establishment of his reign.” He put into his own voice all the warmth he had found lacking in the other. He did feel privileged, and had very warm feelings towards the new King.
There was a tiny bit of thaw in the Chamberlain’s voice, then. “Very well, Master Menelcar. I have been directed to tell you that you will receive four sets of livery, and we have prepared a chamber for your use, as you will be expected to dwell here. We shall also set aside a more public chamber, for you to use when interviewing other minstrels, bards and gleemen who seek admittance to perform for the court. In addition, you are to receive an annual stipend of fifty silver, and I have been directed to give that to you in advance.” A very slight note of disapproval crept into the chamberlain’s voice at this last sentence, but Menelcar got the impression it was directed at the policy, and not at him personally.
“That is generous indeed!” he exclaimed.
Ondahil handed him a small, but heavy, purse, and then rang a bell to summon the servant who would show him to his chamber.
“Please come to see me again after you have settled your belongings, and we will see to getting you measured for your livery.”
_____________________________________
A few hours later, his belongings stowed, and having been measured for new livery, he took his harp and made his way about the more public spaces of the Citadel. He would go down to the chamber granted him to use as an office and interview room later. But right now, he thought, he would make his way to the kitchens.
That had always been a habit of his whenever staying in one of the halls or homes of the great. In the kitchens, one could not only ingratiate oneself with the cooks--always a good idea--but one could pick up gossip and gain a feel for how things were run. It also helped in determining the pace of the day in that particular establishment--in how the meals were scheduled and so forth. And the cooks and other servants were almost always glad to have a minstrel sing for them as they worked, and it made them generous and talkative.
Since it looked as though he were actually going to be dwelling here, it was going to be a habit he wished to establish early on. They would get used to seeing him there on a regular basis.
As he came around the corner of a corridor, he saw the Steward and the Lady Éowyn approach. Stopping, he made a courteous and graceful bow. “My Lord Steward, my Lady Éowyn! It is good to see you once more.”
“Master Menelcar! I am pleased that you accepted the King’s offer,” said Faramir, looking at the bard curiously. Éowyn had told him of how she had finally remembered Menelcar, and Faramir had been both touched by her confidence, and amused by her account of her youthful follies. But she had been uncertain if the bard had in turn remembered her.
“Thank you, Lord Faramir. I hope that I will prove satisfactory. I have to say that it will be a change for me. I am not accustomed to staying in one place overlong.”
Éowyn glanced at the minstrel’s face. He was looking at her with a humorous glint in his eye. She was almost certain he remembered her. Almost, but not quite. “And where were you going, Master Menelcar? Have you already found tasks here?”
He grinned a bit cheekily, and decided to put her out of her misery. “I thought that I would go to the kitchen. The pot-scrubbers, too, often like to hear a song!”
She laughed delightedly. “So you *do* remember me! I was not sure if you did so. Why did you say nothing?”
“Well, my lady, I was uncertain as to whether you *wished* to be remembered. If I recall correctly, the circumstances were a bit less than ideal.”
She laughed once more. “That is a very diplomatic way to put it, Master Menelcar! I was a mess! And in disgrace!”
Faramir glanced at her, and then said teasingly, “Master Menelcar, have you ever cast into song this tale of the battle between a shield-maiden and her cousin? If not, perhaps I could commission it as a gift for my lady.”
“Do not dare think of it, beloved! Master Menelcar, whatever he might propose to pay you to do such a thing, I promise you it will not be worth it to raise my ire!”
“Having seen your abilities in battle at the tender age of fifteen, I would not dare your wrath, now you are a seasoned warrior, Lady Éowyn!” He looked back at Faramir with a look of mock regret. “You see, my Lord Steward, that I am threatened with bodily harm, and should not dream of taking on such a commission.”
“I see that such a gift would not be to the liking of my lady,” Faramir responded, also with mock regret, “and instead will have to be content with sweets and flowers.”
The expression on Éowyn’s face at this declaration was one of astonishment, and then all three of them burst into laughter.
“Well, Master Menelcar,” Faramir continued, “we shall leave you to go and serenade the cooks and pot-scrubbers.”
Menelcar bowed, and took his leave. The couple watched after him. This, thought Faramir, was going to be good. Having a bard in the court, and especially one as quick-witted as Master Menelcar, was going to be most entertaining. He would have a word with Chamberlain Ondahil about the duties the bard would be undertaking in the next few days.
___________________________________________
Next time, back to the hobbits...
PART 25
Menelcar had risen early, packed up his few belongings, and returned to the Citadel, to deliver his answer to the King’s offer.
He was passed into the Citadel and received by the Chamberlain, a Man by the name of Ondahil, who had served in the White Tower under Denethor’s chamberlain.
“Master Menelcar, welcome. I have been told of the possibility that you might come to give us the answer to King Elessar’s offer. Will you accept it, and become his Court Bard?”
Menelcar noted the careful politeness of Master Ondahil’s phrasing, while his eyes and face carried a studied neutrality. There was neither warmth nor enthusiasm in his greeting, but Menelcar knew that he would be having to prove himself to the old guard. Most of the staff at the Citadel had been there under Denethor, and were still trying to find their way in the new order of things.
“Yes, Master Ondahil, I have indeed, decided to accept His Grace the King’s most generous offer. I would be foolish indeed to pass up the opportunity to witness firsthand the establishment of his reign.” He put into his own voice all the warmth he had found lacking in the other. He did feel privileged, and had very warm feelings towards the new King.
There was a tiny bit of thaw in the Chamberlain’s voice, then. “Very well, Master Menelcar. I have been directed to tell you that you will receive four sets of livery, and we have prepared a chamber for your use, as you will be expected to dwell here. We shall also set aside a more public chamber, for you to use when interviewing other minstrels, bards and gleemen who seek admittance to perform for the court. In addition, you are to receive an annual stipend of fifty silver, and I have been directed to give that to you in advance.” A very slight note of disapproval crept into the chamberlain’s voice at this last sentence, but Menelcar got the impression it was directed at the policy, and not at him personally.
“That is generous indeed!” he exclaimed.
Ondahil handed him a small, but heavy, purse, and then rang a bell to summon the servant who would show him to his chamber.
“Please come to see me again after you have settled your belongings, and we will see to getting you measured for your livery.”
_____________________________________
A few hours later, his belongings stowed, and having been measured for new livery, he took his harp and made his way about the more public spaces of the Citadel. He would go down to the chamber granted him to use as an office and interview room later. But right now, he thought, he would make his way to the kitchens.
That had always been a habit of his whenever staying in one of the halls or homes of the great. In the kitchens, one could not only ingratiate oneself with the cooks--always a good idea--but one could pick up gossip and gain a feel for how things were run. It also helped in determining the pace of the day in that particular establishment--in how the meals were scheduled and so forth. And the cooks and other servants were almost always glad to have a minstrel sing for them as they worked, and it made them generous and talkative.
Since it looked as though he were actually going to be dwelling here, it was going to be a habit he wished to establish early on. They would get used to seeing him there on a regular basis.
As he came around the corner of a corridor, he saw the Steward and the Lady Éowyn approach. Stopping, he made a courteous and graceful bow. “My Lord Steward, my Lady Éowyn! It is good to see you once more.”
“Master Menelcar! I am pleased that you accepted the King’s offer,” said Faramir, looking at the bard curiously. Éowyn had told him of how she had finally remembered Menelcar, and Faramir had been both touched by her confidence, and amused by her account of her youthful follies. But she had been uncertain if the bard had in turn remembered her.
“Thank you, Lord Faramir. I hope that I will prove satisfactory. I have to say that it will be a change for me. I am not accustomed to staying in one place overlong.”
Éowyn glanced at the minstrel’s face. He was looking at her with a humorous glint in his eye. She was almost certain he remembered her. Almost, but not quite. “And where were you going, Master Menelcar? Have you already found tasks here?”
He grinned a bit cheekily, and decided to put her out of her misery. “I thought that I would go to the kitchen. The pot-scrubbers, too, often like to hear a song!”
She laughed delightedly. “So you *do* remember me! I was not sure if you did so. Why did you say nothing?”
“Well, my lady, I was uncertain as to whether you *wished* to be remembered. If I recall correctly, the circumstances were a bit less than ideal.”
She laughed once more. “That is a very diplomatic way to put it, Master Menelcar! I was a mess! And in disgrace!”
Faramir glanced at her, and then said teasingly, “Master Menelcar, have you ever cast into song this tale of the battle between a shield-maiden and her cousin? If not, perhaps I could commission it as a gift for my lady.”
“Do not dare think of it, beloved! Master Menelcar, whatever he might propose to pay you to do such a thing, I promise you it will not be worth it to raise my ire!”
“Having seen your abilities in battle at the tender age of fifteen, I would not dare your wrath, now you are a seasoned warrior, Lady Éowyn!” He looked back at Faramir with a look of mock regret. “You see, my Lord Steward, that I am threatened with bodily harm, and should not dream of taking on such a commission.”
“I see that such a gift would not be to the liking of my lady,” Faramir responded, also with mock regret, “and instead will have to be content with sweets and flowers.”
The expression on Éowyn’s face at this declaration was one of astonishment, and then all three of them burst into laughter.
“Well, Master Menelcar,” Faramir continued, “we shall leave you to go and serenade the cooks and pot-scrubbers.”
Menelcar bowed, and took his leave. The couple watched after him. This, thought Faramir, was going to be good. Having a bard in the court, and especially one as quick-witted as Master Menelcar, was going to be most entertaining. He would have a word with Chamberlain Ondahil about the duties the bard would be undertaking in the next few days.
___________________________________________
Next time, back to the hobbits...