An Audience With The King
Mar. 8th, 2004 03:24 pmSomething I wrote long ago... on www.barrowdowns.com. I've always meant to compile the work we did on that story, Pat and I. But the friendship didn't survive. Only the writing.
The lead, Gramil (I did not pick the names) is a black man, a trader of Harad, in his fifties, pulled out of retirement for a business venture that became something more.
Al-Gareth, well, he's another story. He's the likely leader of the men of Nurn (just south of Mordor), a country enslaved by Sauron, cut off and distrustful of the outside world, where the overlords simply took over and grew wealthy on what used to be sent as tribute to the Dark Lord. Its people were abandoned to their fate by the men of the West, but when trade with Harad was inexplicably cut off, Harad began to ask why.
**** Harad/Umbar - Al-Gareth & Gramil ****
quote:
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‘You have my personal offer of support.’ King Elessar said clearly, ‘And the support of Gondor as well. I will meet with my Ministers tomorrow, early. And once the general Audience with all the countries is finished, we will be able to present to you all a detailed plan of how Gondor can give its aid.’
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Al-Gareth's eyes fell as he heard the words, bowed under the weight of what it meant. It was not certain Nurn was free, no, nothing was certain. But for the first time there was more than just hope. His eyes lifted and he met those of King Elessar, King of Gondor; he saw more than just a powerful ally in that steady gaze. Here was one he could trust.
Though it had seemed so long, so much rested upon the outcome of this Audience, this pivot point of the future of three kingdoms, it was in reality surprisingly brief. King Elessar did not dither in his decisions.
King Fuinur and Herumir were heading in their own directions, with talk of wine and celebration. Jarl had matters of his own to attend, concerning the son of the King of Dale. Al-Gareth wanted to learn more of the lad. Jarl hadn't mentioned him in their travels, but the young man had a ready smile and easy manner Al-Gareth liked immediately. Informal and familiar, like much of Nurn. And they were of an age. Al-Gareth, if he saw his throne, would see Girion become lord of Dale in turn.
In the entry hall to the audience chamber, Urkan nodded to Al-Gareth, once, a light of satisfaction and certainty in his face. Urkan for one had no doubts of the outcome of the coming conflict; for him the strength of prophecy declared it done.
As Al-Gareth strode from the hall, Al-Hafez fell in step easily behind him. They went down the marble stairs, out into the open air. A small white tree bloomed in a carefully tended courtyard, seemingly surrounded on all sides by sky. Al-Hafez didn't ask how it had gone. He knew.
There was much to be done. They needed to gather Al-Gareth's network of spies. There were troop movements, strategy and supplies to plan, but that could come later. For now Al-Gareth had another matter to attend to. There had been one missing from the Audience.
He sought out young Garlin and Ethar, as inseperable and as much trouble as ever. Ethar pointed him to a thin, tall figure, two levels up in the palace.
Al-Gareth found Gramil leaning on a railing, staring southeast. Seagulls danced in the breeze below their dizzying height. From here they could see the thin brown line of the Harad road, one of the great works of Gramil's people.
"You did not come." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Gramil smiled.
"I am not an important man," Gramil said mildly. "It's not my place to trouble the councils of the great. I am just a trader. And a retired one at that. I've only done what I had to - what anyone would do."
Al-Gareth turned east, towards the dark of the mountains which marked the borders of his country. He was getting used to thinking of it as his country. No, not anyone, he thought.
He squeezed Gramil on the shoulder and said, "Thank you."
I used to craft my stories like this, taking care to preserve Tolkien's lofty tone.
The lead, Gramil (I did not pick the names) is a black man, a trader of Harad, in his fifties, pulled out of retirement for a business venture that became something more.
Al-Gareth, well, he's another story. He's the likely leader of the men of Nurn (just south of Mordor), a country enslaved by Sauron, cut off and distrustful of the outside world, where the overlords simply took over and grew wealthy on what used to be sent as tribute to the Dark Lord. Its people were abandoned to their fate by the men of the West, but when trade with Harad was inexplicably cut off, Harad began to ask why.
**** Harad/Umbar - Al-Gareth & Gramil ****
quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘You have my personal offer of support.’ King Elessar said clearly, ‘And the support of Gondor as well. I will meet with my Ministers tomorrow, early. And once the general Audience with all the countries is finished, we will be able to present to you all a detailed plan of how Gondor can give its aid.’
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Al-Gareth's eyes fell as he heard the words, bowed under the weight of what it meant. It was not certain Nurn was free, no, nothing was certain. But for the first time there was more than just hope. His eyes lifted and he met those of King Elessar, King of Gondor; he saw more than just a powerful ally in that steady gaze. Here was one he could trust.
Though it had seemed so long, so much rested upon the outcome of this Audience, this pivot point of the future of three kingdoms, it was in reality surprisingly brief. King Elessar did not dither in his decisions.
King Fuinur and Herumir were heading in their own directions, with talk of wine and celebration. Jarl had matters of his own to attend, concerning the son of the King of Dale. Al-Gareth wanted to learn more of the lad. Jarl hadn't mentioned him in their travels, but the young man had a ready smile and easy manner Al-Gareth liked immediately. Informal and familiar, like much of Nurn. And they were of an age. Al-Gareth, if he saw his throne, would see Girion become lord of Dale in turn.
In the entry hall to the audience chamber, Urkan nodded to Al-Gareth, once, a light of satisfaction and certainty in his face. Urkan for one had no doubts of the outcome of the coming conflict; for him the strength of prophecy declared it done.
As Al-Gareth strode from the hall, Al-Hafez fell in step easily behind him. They went down the marble stairs, out into the open air. A small white tree bloomed in a carefully tended courtyard, seemingly surrounded on all sides by sky. Al-Hafez didn't ask how it had gone. He knew.
There was much to be done. They needed to gather Al-Gareth's network of spies. There were troop movements, strategy and supplies to plan, but that could come later. For now Al-Gareth had another matter to attend to. There had been one missing from the Audience.
He sought out young Garlin and Ethar, as inseperable and as much trouble as ever. Ethar pointed him to a thin, tall figure, two levels up in the palace.
Al-Gareth found Gramil leaning on a railing, staring southeast. Seagulls danced in the breeze below their dizzying height. From here they could see the thin brown line of the Harad road, one of the great works of Gramil's people.
"You did not come." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Gramil smiled.
"I am not an important man," Gramil said mildly. "It's not my place to trouble the councils of the great. I am just a trader. And a retired one at that. I've only done what I had to - what anyone would do."
Al-Gareth turned east, towards the dark of the mountains which marked the borders of his country. He was getting used to thinking of it as his country. No, not anyone, he thought.
He squeezed Gramil on the shoulder and said, "Thank you."
I used to craft my stories like this, taking care to preserve Tolkien's lofty tone.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 09:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 10:29 am (UTC)We did finish the story, though unfortunately Icarus and RPGs don't mix. Pat and I were very involved and interested in writing, but she (the Mod) was stretched too thin. She asked me to drive the story forward when she couldn't participate as much -- but she didn't tell the other players she'd asked me to do this. And I didn't know that. So resentments built up.
Then we had some people not post for a while right around the time I got sick. I didn't want to push them because 1) I was sick, 2) they'd complained about my "taking over" the game. I still didn't realise she hadn't told them that she asked me to do that.
Pat came back to the game (which had a time deadline), found that I "had not done my job" and joined in with the other players' complaints with her own. Another Mod -- and personal friend -- got involved and he found out that I was sick. I explained the situation to him and discovered the primary problem with the Barrowdowns as a community. His answer was: "Well, I feel stuck because I like you and Pat both."
Huh? I liked Pat too, but that had nothing to do with the situation. The Barrowdowns is a very tight community which is routinely accused of being "clique-ish." Because I was part of the clique it had never bothered me before. But while I was part of the "upper eschelon" of long-term members, I was not one of the Mods. In terms of clique negotiation, the other Mod was in a pickle, because I had seniority other the new Mod Pat. He and I in particular had known each other for over a year, had had "deep conversations." But he and Pat had worked together on another game intensely over the last two months.
So the solution was not "solve the communication problems" it was "come down on the side of the person you like most." I left the community and I left the fandom entirely. In my frustration I started reading and writing Harry Potter slash.
That's the reason why I bailed on
But looking back, Pat and I did do some damn fine writing. She's really good, and we played off each other pretty well.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 10:39 am (UTC)mm i seemed to recall you mentioning Pat a while ago, but that seems like ages. i hate it when fandoms do the whole 'choose because of liking the person thing'... (that wasn;t very coherent, i know)..i've had a similar situation but oh well.
this seems a ridiculously short and pathetic excuse but im busy learning italian :$
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 10:56 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 11:02 am (UTC)and we're all very happy you are ;)
*angels burst out of clouds* *someone makes matching icons for icarus'*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 09:09 pm (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2004-03-09 10:52 pm (UTC)of course, once that's sorted, i would cut off my arm for a lizardspots icon.. mmmmmm..