[Galadriel55]

Belegon did not blink when he heard the gong, too loud according to some and ear-splitting to others. It was too much a part of his daily routine for him to react differently. When he hears the gong, he should head to the dining hall, to stand there like a pillar of stone unless his Lord and Lady need him. There he went. On his way, he curtly greeted other servants, whose duty did not involve standing by the doors of the dining hall every evening.

“Good evening, Belegon!”

“Evening it is, Galadelen, good or not.” Down the hall. Up the stairs. To the right. Through a small chamber. Past a marble statue.

“Good evening, Belegon, and well met! Are you to the dining hall?”

“Evening, evening, Earendur. Dining hall, as always.”

“Look out for Lord Sador, he is in a strange mood today.” A quick nod. Straight till the end of the hallway. Then left. Down a short flight of stairs. Through a maze of rooms. Quicken the pace: dinner will start soon.

BOOM! Suddenly the house was filled with noise again, and this time it was not the gong. A few more crashes. Someone in the next room screamed. A young maid almost ran into to Belegon. She looked a mess. Evidently, the noise – whatever it was – frightened her much more than it did him.

“O, Belegon, I’m so glad you’re here! That terrible -… what was it? It did not sound like thunder! You will go and make sure everything is all right, won’t you?”

“My place is at the dining hall. Others can give heed to whatever worries there are.”

“But, Belegon, someone has to go! The Ladies are scared. We all are. And Galadelen said that she saw smoke from the window. What if there’s a fire?”

“I am off to the dining hall. Do not make me late. Lord Ecsichil wants me to be there.”

“Lord Ecsichil wants the Ladies to be safe! He wants his house to be safe!” Curt nod. Ecsichil wants me to check on that noise.

“Where was the sound coming from?” he asked the maiden.

“I think it came from the West Wing. And Galadelen said she saw smoke there too, lots of it. The window was open, and -” Another nod. Turn around. Stride away quickly, but with dignity, to show that silly young girl how to behave in Ecsichil’s house. Back through the labyrinth of little rooms and storages. Turn here, turn there. Finally in the West Wing. Walking down the hall. Some smoke is drifting along. It is coming from the direction of the back door. Find out what was the problem, if there was lightning, if there is a fire, calm everyone down.

It was very queer. At Ecsichil’s house, the most that could happen was an overly-spirited banquet. Or an overly-spirited play. Never crashes, bangs, and booms that scared the ladies as if it was Grond, beating against the gates of Minas Tirith. Even queerer were the voices that came out of the smoke, which was so thick that Belegon could hardly see in front of him. And they were not the voices of children who played a petty jest on the entire household. If it were so, some servant would show them what it means to dare such a thing, especially on a night like that. Nay, they were voices of a man and a woman.