[Child of the 7th Age]

Eckthlion spent the better part of the next hour mingling with his guests and listening to their small talk, joining in where appropriate and sharing some minor confidences of his own. It was a game. An old game that he'd learned to play when still a youth. It was also a skill that was necessary for anyone who wanted to do a good job with the Stewardship of Gondor. Now and again, amidst all the trivial gossip, he picked up an essential nugget of information.

Tonight Eckthelion could sense a tendril of unrest underlying the polite conversations that swirled about the hall, a slight indication of ongoing tension and unease. But why this anxiety was there, or what was its precise origin, he had not been able to determine. He made a mental note to speak later with his daughter Tiriel and see if she'd heard of anything unusual going on. Or perhaps he should consider apporaching a trusted servant in Finduilas' own entourage. It never ceased to amaze him how the court women, with their tangled webs of gossip and intrigue, were often the first to pick up on some subtle change in opinion or to pass along rumors that were later determined to be true.

Eckthelion leaned against one of the collonades and shifted his gaze uneasily about the hall. Where had Siriel disappeared to? How like his eldest daughter to disregard her familial duties and fail to show herself on such a crucial occasion! She'd grown from a headstrong child into a headstrong woman, and as yet had shown no indication of settling down and finding herself a husband. He had pushed a whole string of suitors towards his daugher in her younger years, but had given up on that. She had her own ideas on what was right and wrong, and was seemingly impermeable to his influence. Eckthelion sighed ruefully, reflecting that he would never understand her.

For one instant, he considered the possibility that something might have happened to Siriel. Some unknown enemy had encountered her and was intent on bringing her serious harm. He quickly pushed that thought aside. For all her stubborness, Siriel had always been able to handle herself with assurance and was careful not to take on risks that were too great. No, most likely the girl had gone her own way for some personal reason and might still arrive late at the ball. He went over to the dining table, picked up a glass of wine, and began to search for a member of Finduilas' personal entourage to have a word with them and see what he could discover.

[ August 26, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]