[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Susan Delgado's post for Tarannon

Earnil’s exit was met with a profound and embarrassed silence. Everybody looked at their plates, or the ceiling, or anything except each other. Tarannon could not understand how his brother could have raised such an ill-mannered little brute, but he supposed he would have to deal with the boy as he was. Perhaps with further training Earnil would learn not to storm out of formal meals with his king. Finally he turned to Andrus and said, “Andrus, please go fetch the boy back here. I have an announcement he should hear.” Andrus nodded and left the room smoothly and silently.

“Well,” he said with somewhat forced joviality, “Shall we continue our meal?” He tore into his game hen as delicately as his station and his stomach would allow, and the others could hardly do likewise. They all ate eagerly and heartily for the minutes it took until Andrus returned.

They heard the two returning long before they actually arrived; Earnil had not chosen to go quietly and was howling and yelling as much as any common-bred and much younger child would do. Tarannon would have to put a stop to this. The boy was ten years old! Much too old for him to be carrying on this way, even if one did not consider that he was a Prince of Gondor as well. They could hear Andrus trying to quiet the boy with reason, but it seemed Earnil had no thought for anything but his puppy, and was imaging all manner of slights and hurts done to it that Tarannon, quite frankly, had not witnessed. Finally Andrus fell silent and after the sound of something soft being struck, Earnil stopped howling as well, and a few moments later they entered the room, with no indication that there had been a delay. The guests followed their lead and did not acknowledge the ruckus they had heard. When Andrus and Earnil resumed their seats and had both eaten a bit, Tarannon rose his glass in a silent plea for attention.

“Well,” he said, smiling warmly, “We would like to formally welcome our visitors.” He nodded simply to Tarciryan and Miriel, who returned his salute. “Now, I know only Earnil will be remaining with us, but I sincerely hope our dear brother and sister will remain as long as they wish, and offer them the use of the castle as if it were their own.” He smiled again and drank from his still upraised goblet, then put it down and glanced directly at his nephew. He acknowledged the dessert when it was served, a delicate pastry filled with chopped fruit and some sort of creamy yellow sauce. He delayed his announcement until after everyone had finished and the after-dinner wine was being served, so it would have maximum impact without distractions. Not that everyone didn’t know it already, but he had learned in his years as king that the manner and timing of an announcement were nearly as important as the announcement itself. So, he waited until everyone was relaxed and calm to announce that Earnil would officially be made the heir tomorrow; he would draft a proclamation and send it through Gondor with the fastest runners he had. He glanced around the table, beaming. Everyone seemed happy except Beruthiel: she was staring at her plate (had not finished her pastry, in fact, but was swirling her eating utensil inside it, disrupting the delicate balance of the fruit and the sauce). Tarannon frowned. She would have to get used to it someday; all her moping did not look good. She had known this was coming, and had had plenty of time to get used to it. It was her own fault if she hadn’t allowed herself to accept the reality of Earnil being the heir. She would never have a child, and that was that and he was very tired of watching her sulk. To get his mind off his Queen, he instead watched Tarciryan and his family. They obviously could not be more pleased, and it occurred to Tarannon that, despite his earlier histrionics, Earnil really was a good child, and very clever for his age. He would make a fine king when he grew up.

[ August 15, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]