[Lyra Greenleaf]

Emilia hated to miss even a second of such a wonderful ball by doing something as trivial as getting her breath back, but it was unavoidable. She hadn't sat down for hours, between being whisked around the dancefloor and... well, being whisked around the dancefloor!

She smiled smugly to herself as she thought of the amount of young men she had danced with- more than anyone else, she was sure!

Sadly the one man who she did not seem to have danced with was Thenidir. In fact she had not seen him all evening. It was a great pity because while he might be a horrible young man, he would look very well dressed up. Once more Emilia gazed around to look for him, and was gratified to spot him. It appeared he had just entered. Almost as if he had felt her eyes on him, he looked up, smiled and bowed his head. Emilia nodded gravely in return, not allowing him to see that she was pleased. However inside she felt happiness explode like warmth. Perhaps she wuld do as her mother had wanted- and indeed follow her own dearest wishes- and become betrothed this season? True Thenidir did not offer as much power as Emilia could wish, but a good soldier had many oppurtunities to advance.

Emilia was involved in many pleasant imaginings for the fture when a voice split her thoughts.

"You don't know anything you silly pathetic little girl!"

Turning, Emilia saw a door behind her that was not quite closed. Heavy brocade covered the wall, and part of it had caught in the doorway, leaving a sliver of light between the door and the frame. Eagerly Emilia edged closer. There was something familiar about the voice, but she had no idea who it was.

"...ever hoped for, for Umbar and its Corsairs! There is no Dryea Morthaniawen. I am just an instrument of war, a tool that the corsairs can use to regain Gondor for themselves. Do you have any idea of this burden's weight upon my shoulders? NO! So the next time you want to take up mother's side and decide to chastise me, remember that I rise way above you! You will never measure up to me and without me, our whole plan would fall apart."

Emilia felt criously unreal, as if everything was happening in a dream. The voice was Dryea's, but subtley changed. There was a hard edge that Emilia had never heard before, and even a hint of an accent in the most impassioned parts of speech. Head spinning, Emilia only just had enough presence of mind to pull herself away from the door at the sound of rustling skirts drawing near to it.

Quickly she left the ballroom, entering the cool corridor and leaning inelegantly on a pillar helped to clear her head. Dryea was a traitor, a spy! It seemed incredible, more incredible than Finduilas' descent. Suddenly Emilia's mouth felt dry. If Dryea was nt from Dol Amroth, she could not know whether Finduilas was or not. Finduilas was probably all she claimed to be! Emilia felt faint and was glad of the pillar's support.

She had come so close to throwing her chance for success away on an imposter. She still hadn't introduced herself to Finduilas, the future wife of the future steward! She had been manipulated. White hot anger coursed through her veins at the thought of what Dryea could have done to her.

Thoughts swam confusedly in her head, but then all at once they condensed into just one thought. Now, after so long, she had power. Unbelievable power. She could make herself invaluable to the steward with this. Not only had she heard Dryea confess, she had heard a huge argument with her sister! That could be exploited, certainly.

Pleasant plans once again filled her head, and excitedly she returned to the ballroom. Ecthelion was not there, but she saw the Lady Tiriel standing beside the dancefloor.
"My lady" Emilia said, curtseying hurriedly. Ignoring propriety she continued with a rush. "Please my lady I must talk with your father. It is imperative to Gondor's safety. Please, will you take me to him?"

[ September 02, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[ September 02, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]