[maikafanawen]

The song ended and Rhir escorted Dryea off the floor and got them both a glass of wine. The lights were being relit to accommodate to the growing darkness outside. Her hands shook as she watched Rhir sip idly from his cup. No, she thought. It's too early. He'll be having more wine tonight anyway.

"A masquerade is the most enjoyable sort of social, don't you think?" he asked watching all the costumes.

"Oh yes," Dryea agreed mildly. "I especially like Finduilas's costume." She nodded in the princess's direction. She was glad to see that Rhir only glanced her way before surveying the rest of the people's finery.

"Which is your favorite costume?" she asked plainly, hoping he'd drop his interest in the costumes and speak more directly with her. They only had a few more hours together before—well, a few more hours and it was beginning to rend at her heart.

"Yours," he said, turning to look at her own ensemble. "Definitely." Dryea studied his face: so full of love and adoration. His features were so handsome and soft. She was breaking. "Let's walk outside," he said offering her his arm. She only nodded, afraid that in speaking she'd choke. Why was she being so delicate? She had to get a hold on herself.

The moonlight streamed across the terrace alighting the flowers and footpaths that ran off into the secluded parts of the garden. Rhir chose one of these footpaths and the two walked quietly to a bench shrouded by a rose hedge.

"Your brothers and sisters," he whispered pointing at the flowers. Dryea smiled, she couldn't help it. He was so simple and so pure! "Um, Dryea," he stammered, motioning for her to sit on the bench. "I wanted to ask you something." She leaned back on the bench in a comfortable position, hoping that it would help Rhir relax a bit. She didn't want to deal with an awkward man right now. It seemed to work. He took a deep breath and sat on the bench beside her.

"Dryea," he began again, confidently. "How do you feel about us?" She laughed and leaned up next to him.

"What do you mean?" He looked away.

"I mean, do—" Then he turned and wrapped his arms around her, their faces so close they barely touched as he whispered.

"I love you, Dryea. I really do. I love you so much and I don't know what I'd do without you." The tears formed in her eyes but she held them back. "And I want to know if you love me too, because if you do," he stammered. "If you do, then—" She couldn't do it. She gave in. She collapsed into his arms, laying her head on his chest, letting him hold her and keep her safe beside him.

"Oh I do Rhir! I love you!" Pulling back, his face beaming, he slid off the bench, kneeling on one knee.

"Then," he pulled a beautiful gold ring adorned with a small ruby rose from within his coat pocket and held it before her. "Will you marry me?" Frozen inside, her ambivalent emotions of devotion to him and devotion to Umbar raging within her. What could she do? She had a duty to fulfill! She'd sworn so long ago that she would uphold her family's goal of conquest over the Gondorian peoples who robbed them of their land and rights. It had been a pledge, a vow made all those years ago of dedication unbreakable by anything!

But as Rhir knelt before her, all that sense of honor died within and she only saw him. His blue eyes of passion and devoted love. Her heart conquered her mind then in that moment and her hands reached for the ring as Rhir slipped it on her finger.

"Yes," she said. "Oh yes! I'll marry you Rhir!" She threw his arms around his neck and kissed him all over. Then Rhir kissed her long and hard on her lips and she seemed to melt.

"I love you," he whispered, "forever." Then they stood. "I must go," Dryea said, apologetically. "I'm supposed to be with mother when we meet Finduilas." He nodded.

"I'll find you then." Then he moved away into the shadows up towards the house. Once she was sure he had gone inside she collapsed on the bench and sobbed, wishing her life away.

She stayed like that for ten minutes before regaining her composure. Knowing for sure she had soiled her cosmetics and probably wrinkled her dress she snuck around to a side door of the citadel and made her way up to one of the smaller powder rooms that would certainly be empty. Once there she freshened up quickly until she looked just as she did when the masque had started. When she was sure no one was nearby, she emerged, ready to go downstairs.

She had reached the top of her stairs when her mother came rushing up. "You!" she hissed as she saw Dryea. Ruiel's hand shot down to Dryea's left and pulled it up so that she saw the ring. Her daughter waited in terror for her mother's wrath.

"I thought I heard you two in the gardens! You have destroyed all glory for yourself now! Your folly has cost us, Dryea. I should send you back now for trial. You disgraceful wretch!" She stepped back to look at her daughter in full light. "I am disgusted!" Dryea lashed back.

"I haven't done a thing! This will uphold our innocence! My marrying Rhir no one will ever suspect we're Umbarians! We'll be safe—"

"By Eru you are not marrying Rhircyn Isindil," she whispered furiously, "and I will do whatever it takes to keep you two apart." With that she turned on her heel and returned to the hall leaving Dryea fuming in rage.

Collecting her emotions and hiding them carefully, she made her way down the hall to enter the great room from a different entrance than her mother. Ruiel was right. Dryea had been foolish and she knew it. There was nothing she could do to get out of the vow she had made to Umbar. She had condemned herself from any hope of a happy future. Everything she did had to be of benefit to the retake of Gondor. There was no such person as Dryea Morthaniawen. She was simply a playing piece in Umbar's chess game. She had no say in what she got or deserved. Whatever Umbar saw fit through her mother's guidance, is what she received.

There was only one way she could go to regain her mother's respect. There was only one path she could take to fix all the mess she had caused. Her heart had been ripped out and torn apart as she thought of this. All her love for Rhir was sucked up in the vacuum of what was expected of Dryea to do. She would never love again and her life from here out would be an austere misery.

The great room was in a resplendent mood when she entered. The dancers were making a large loop around the floor while the orchestra played a traditional Gondorian Waltz. Dryea's eyes swept the room looking for Rhir. She found him speaking with a group of students near the mid-left of the room. Walking majestically through the very center of the room, her face a mask of levity and light-heartedness, she shook hands with all her friends and acquaintances asking them politely of their health and if they were enjoying themselves. Finally she got to Rhir who introduced her to his friends as the future Mrs. Rhircyn Isindil.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Elena who rushed up behind her, Emilia close behind. "How wonderful!" Dryea summoned a smile of pure ecstasy as she embraced her friends.

"We're so happy for you dear!" said Emilia. The two left Dryea and Rhir to dance as Elena was caught up by her scholarly friends and Emilia by her many admirers.

As the couple spun around the floor, Dryea caught sight of her sister and mother speaking at the banquet table. Alethea cast a loathing eye towards her sister before turning back to her conversation.

"I'm thirsty," Dryea confessed after the fourth dance.

"Of course." Rhir and Dryea joined the other guests at the banquet table where they sat down to a wonderful feast of fowl dressed in exotic fruits and herbs from the southern parts of Arda to match the colorful tastes of the masque.

Rhir was about to pour himself more wine from the pitcher when Dryea opened her ring. She tugged at the tablecloth so that the glass tipped her way before a drop fell. She caught it just as it rolled off the table, emptying the near-invisible contents into the bottom.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, setting it back on the table. Rhir shrugged it off with a smile, absorbed in the love he felt for his new fiancé, and filled his cup, unaware of the poison within.

She was almost through her third course when Alethea came by asking for a word with her older sister. Dryea no long felt things since Rhir drank of his intoxicated wine so she stood pleasantly and followed her sister out of the great hall to a secluded room. Once inside, Alethea turned on her sister, ranting of her betrayal.

"And I was beginning to feel guilty about mentioning Rhir!" she finished. Dyrea narrowed her eyes and in a slow, meaningful tone began to tell Alethea just what she thought.

"You don't know anything you silly pathetic little girl. You have no idea what I've had to deal with. I've had to give up everything I've 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." She stopped to look disgustedly at her sister. "Now get back to your playing!" Picking up her skirts, and wiping the glare off her face, Dryea left her sister shocked, and joined the people again after being retained from the festivity for the third time that evening.

"What was that about love?" asked Rhir as he nodded to the servants to take their plates away.

"She wanted to congratulate me on our engagement," Dryea said pleasantly.

"How nice," he commented. Dryea took her seat and began to nibble on her dessert as the music reached the crescendo in its aria and Denethor and Finduilas spun around the dance floor in their perfect love.

[ September 10, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]