[Durelin]

Vern stood back from the fish before her, hands on her hips, with a satisfied sigh. It seemed that she was on schedule for the tonight's feast, and all the food and drink before that had been taken care of in the early hours of the morning. The robust women let out a long yawn at the memory of how early she had risen from her bed, but she returned to smiling immediately. She loved this feeling of accomplishment. But as she surveyed the rest of the kitchens, with the men and women, all clad in white linen and covered with aprons, sweating as they bustled around the narrow rectangular room, there were not smiles on their faces, nor any looks besides that of exhaustion. With a shake of her head, Vern ripped of her apron, revealing a plain, light blue gown of a material she did not know, but knew with a smirk that it was an imitation of silk.

Vern was halfway to the Hall before she realized she still wore a scrap of cloth tied around her finger, blood dried into it. She pulled it off quickly, looking around to see if anyone was near then slipping it into a pocket concealed inside the skirt of her dress with her dagger. Her father had told her to keep a weapon with her at all times at court. It was a dangerous place, he had said, but in all her years in the courts of Minas Tirith, Vern had never run into the least bit of trouble. Still, it was not a bad habit, and she knew it. She took a right down the corridor, and soon came to the great oak doors, covered with gold workings and, of course, the White Tree.

Vern scuttled into hall and was immediately hit with the low rumble of a hundred different quiet conversations. Working her way along the wall, keeping quite out of the way and hidden, she scanned the crowd, searching for the Lady Emilia. She found her with the Lady Adrama, who was looking quite flustered. Vern went to walk toward the two Ladies, only to find her feet rooted to the ground, her insides squirming with apprehension. She always felt a bit uncomfortable talking with the nobility, but now... Lady Adrama looked miserable, and Lady Emilia a bit exasperated, and besides, they were in the middle of a conversation, it seemed. Who was Vern to cut into the middle of it? Still...this was important information for the Lady Emilia. She would understand...perhaps...

Vern crossed the hall over to where the two Ladies stood with heavy feet. For a moment she simply hovered behind them, and Adrama left, handing her glass to Emilia. Vern let out a sigh of relief, smiling for a moment at the floor. She would only have to talk to the Lady Emilia. But, when she looked up, Emilia was walking off...toward the Lady Finduilas... No...she couldn't talk to Emilia and...Finduilas! Vern took off in a run to catch up to Lady Emilia, and was a bit flustered when she reached her, though she knew it was worth it.

"Excuse me, m'Lady," she began, glancing expectantly at Emilia and Adrama. "But I have something important to tell the Lady Emilia, if it is a good time for me to do so?" She said this questioningly, looking at Emilia humbily but hopefully. Then the Lady Emilia smiled, to Vern's relief, even if it was a bit of an exasperated one. "Of course," she said to Vern, "If it is important."

Emilia followed Vern slowly out of the hall, stopping sometimes to greet those who knew her. When they at last made their way through the crowd and out the large oak doors, Vern took Emilia over to stand by the wall near the door. "M'lady, I thought you'd be interested in what I had heard. You might be aware of the rumor, but it is quite new. You see, the Lady Dryea, you know she is from Dol Armoth..." Lady Emilia nodded her head a bit impatiently, and Vern began again, speaking a bit more quickly. "But, the Lady Dryea does not think they are from Dol Armoth, you know, the Ladies with Finduilas. And she isn't sure about the Lady Finduilas herself! You would think that Lady Dryea would know, being in such a place of power...wouldn't you?" She paused, frowning thoughtfully at the floor, then raised her eyes to Lady Emilia again, and gave the woman a curtsy. "Well, I thought you ought to have known, my'lady..."

[ July 04, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]