Friendship is a Tight Bond - 2995 TA

[Dervorin]

14 Years Ago
July 21st,
2995 T.A.
Summer, Minas Tirith
-------------------------------

”Father, can I go now, please? Mother said that I was done with my chores! Smithing is boring.”
Delthor looked down at his son with a small smile. The boy had been complaining for the better half of the hour, all throughout his blacksmithing lessons. Delthor put down the hammer and tongs, and got down on his knee to be level with Dervorin. It would have been quite a sight for anyone, the seven foot tall Delthor kneeling to talk to his five foot tall eight year old son.
”But Dervorin, how do you expect to continue the family trade? You cannot own a smithery without knowing the trade.”

Dervorin glared at his father, and crossed his arms. ”But Dad! I don’t want to be a blacksmith! I’m going to be a knight!”

Giving his son a weak smile, Delthor spoke again. ”I know, I know… You want to be a knight. Alright, son. Lesson’s over, run along now.”

Dervorin’s expression brightened, and he uncrossed his arms. ”Thanks father!” he said, as he turned and ran out the blacksmith door, nearly running into one of the smiths Delthor employed. Delthor watched Dervorin run out, and turned to his employee. ”Alright, let’s get back to work. We only have a few hours before our client comes back for his sword.”

----

Dervorin skipped off down a street on the third tier, a smile on his face. He was in the mood for playing with some of his friends. He didn’t know where to look though. He hadn’t seen Borthir for a few days now, so he couldn’t do any sword-fighting. Although, he never really liked the older boy. He always won.

Perhaps he could find someone else. There was a pretty girl that lived on this tier, maybe she would want to play. Or maybe not. He had the worst of luck when it came to playing with girls. They never liked playing swords, or Slay the Orc. Perhaps not her, although it wouldn’t hurt to keep a lookout for her. Or any other kids, for that matter. Dervorin always liked making friends. Even if some of the bigger kids could be really, really mean.

He continued skipping down the street, keeping his eyes out for possible playmates. Boredom was gnawing at his being, and boredom was not something Dervorin liked.

At all.

[Gilwen]

Gilwen, aged 11

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Gilwen had been sitting by her window for most of the morning, a book open upon her lap; her face set in a rather serious expression as she concentrated on the words before her. Reading was something even the talkative young girl was beginning to enjoy, though because of her family’s income, it was not something she had had proper schooling for. Beregar, the girl’s father, had sat with her as she had grown up and taught her to the best of his ability. Still, some works seemed entirely difficult for her; and the text she had found upon the sill this morning was proving to be quite a challenge.

Footsteps in the room did not even falter Gilwen’s concentration. “Gilwen, dear.” Still no response. “Gilwen!” Niniel half laughed. “Do take a break from reading for a moment. We must head to the market.”

The young girl immediately closed the book and bounded over to her mother to grasp the woven basket in her little hands. “Yes, Mama!” She replied excitedly. It puzzled Niniel and Beregar both that their daughter so loved to go to the marketplace. Though, she always brimmed and glowed with energy and smiles.

”Perhaps she is no more energetic than other children,” Beregar had jested with his wife once. ”Perhaps it is just packed more tightly.” While this was, in Niniel’s opinion, not the case at all, it did fit well. Gilwen was rather small. Oft when she presented herself and spoke her age, she would receive quizzical looks and exclamations of disbelief. The consensus recently had been she looked a mere nine years old. Oh, but her dear daughter was a whole two years older.

It had been an easy shopping task; a few spices and vegetables for the night’s dinner. A meal that Niniel would begin to prepare the minute she got home. Her daughter was none to excited to return to the house though. She did so enjoy the outdoors and the sunlight, and her friendly and talkative nature could not be satiated when cooped up in the house.

Gilwen, though, was quite well behaved for all of her energy and words, and was keeping pace with her mother quite fine carrying the basket of collected groceries. They had just gotten within sight of their front door when something had caught Gilwen’s eye. A blonde boy was hurrying up the cobbled streets. A child that both mother and daughter recognized instantly.

For one, there were not many with such hair color in Minas Tirith. Nor indeed a single young boy that was taller than he. It was incredibly strange to see her daughter and he run about the third tier. For, even with her seniority in age, he was quite a bit taller. “Dervorin!” Gilwen called excitedly, releasing the basket with one hand to wave and catch his attention. She turned to look at her mother. “Mama, may I?” She asked hurriedly.

Oh, what mother would have said no, seeing such happiness in her daughter’s eye? Gilwen, in truth, had very few friends. It was a shame, or at least her mother thought so. She was such a sweet and gentle girl. Tough her size alone prevented her from fitting in with those who were her own age. “You may.” The brunette immediately relinquished the basket, and wheeled to begin to rush off. “Gilwen,” her mother continued, causing the girl to pause and turn back to face her a moment.

“Yes, Mama?”

“Do be home in time for dinner.” Niniel finished. She smiled over to Dervorin. “You two have fun.” And with a lingering look at the two, she moved back inside. Her husband would surely be hungry after coming in from training.

Gilwen turned to look up to the young boy. “Shouldn’t you be having your lessons?” She asked grinning. It seemed all too often the aspiring knight relinquished what seemed to be familial obligations to simply play with the other children of the third tier. Not that she blamed him. She wouldn’t want to learn to make sword either. Just to use them.

[Dervorin]

"Dervorin!"

Hearing his name, Dervorin turned his head towards the origin of the sound. Almost immediately, he spied Gilwen with her mother about to head into their house. Seeing her waving, he grinned ear to ear, and skipped on over to them. They were a welcome sight, indeed.

Upon reaching them, he was spoken to by Gilwen's mother. "You two have fun.” Dervorin nodded enthusiastically. "We will, ma'am." As her mother turned and went inside, he waved bye, and turned back to Gilwen.

“Shouldn’t you be having your lessons?”

He grimaced. "I just got out of one. I don't know why my father makes me do it... What knight needs to know how to run a tavern or a blacksmith? Its almost like he doesn't think I can become a knight at all! Oh well..." He shrugged.

"But anyways... where did you just get back from?"

[Gilwen]

Gilwen let out a reel of girlish giggles. "I'm sure he simply wants to make sure you can take pride in what he does,” she offered lightly, instantly adopting a role to comfort her friend. “All parents teach their children the things they enjoy.” She added thoughtfully.

“You shall be a knight.” Gilwen finally smiled. “You have the heart of one already. All you must do is master the sword and learn to ride.” The thought sounded pleasant on the little girl’s tongue; and her rampant mind turned to her dear Papa. He used to show her sword techniques. She was too small to hold the weapon, and had been forbidden to touch it; yet, he still had shown her many different drills. And after she had pestered him to no end years ago, he had finally taught her to ride.

"But anyways... where did you just get back from?"

Instantly the little girl’s face glowed with excitement. “Mama and I went to the market!” The glimmer in her eye surely gave away her excitement of it. It was a chore to most; fighting the busy masses of people to find what you need amongst the many shops and stands. “We picked up some vegetables for dinner, Papa will be hungry when he comes back from training.” Beregar was a foot soldier, and as such spent much of his time training out on the Pelennor. Working such physical sword drills really did make men ravenous.

“Oh, it was ever so nice!” She exclaimed happily, clasping her hands before her. “There are always so many people. Oh! And the dress shop has a lovely new dress. I do wish I could have brought it home; but we do not have the money for such things.” Gilwen’s prattling tongue halted immediately. Dervorin was a boy. Surely the talk of dresses was not at all what he wished to talk about. So, she immediately jumped topics.

“Where are you off to?”

[Dervorin]

Dervorin smiled. Gilwen had the strangest fascination with the marketplace, something neither he or many others could understand. Yes, the marketplace was a interesting place indeed. But to Dervorin, it became tedious quite quickly. The masses of people, the scamming, thievery, and worst of all the sheer chaos that always seemed to accompany the market at all times of day.

However, Dervorin wasn't Gilwen, and hadn't the ability to understand everything the girl thought. In truth, he didn't really care if she was intrigued by the market, after all, he was fascinated with knighthood. That could be placed in the same category of interest.

“There are always so many people. Oh! And the dress shop has a lovely new dress. I do wish I could have brought it home; but we do not have the money for such things.”

One thing he wished he could change. Dervorin didn't like the fact that Gilwen seemed not to be as well off as his family. He understood why, that his father, as a owner of property, was obviously in a better position to gain money, but he found it unfair. Just another thing I'll change when I become a knight. That way, Gilwen can get all the dresses she wants!

Thats when Gilwen changed the subject, instead asking Dervorin where he was going.

"Well, I was looking for someone to play swords, but it looks like I found something better!"

[Gilwen]

Gilwen did not seem to notice that her friend had become slightly saddened at the thought of her own poverty. It was not something that she let bother her often. Yes, there were things that the child wanted and could not have; such as dresses, dolls and feasts. But her family was not destitute. They could afford to put enough food on the table, to clothe their daughter with a new garment about every year and a half or so. Most of the time it was simply taken in stride.

What hurt was when people drew attention to the fact she was not as well off, which happened plenty when the children from the higher tiers would visit the market and tease those that lived upon the third. Despite the fact not every child got along down here, they all banded together on the matter of finances. They all had the same pride in what they had, and the hard work that they would do. And sometimes, despite the fact it was improper for a lady to have such feelings, she would be jealous when she saw a more affluent family purchase the lovely dolls for their daughters, or get them a new dress. Still, it was not something she talked about too terribly often.

She was blessed to have a family that was rich in other things. They all loved each other deeply, and her parents made plenty of sacrifices to make her happy. Though, that made the girl feel extremely guilty at times. Recently she had decided that she would take a job in the palace as soon as she was able. They began to hire serving women at fifteen, and Gilwen mused that would be the only place to take her.

"Well, I was looking for someone to play swords, but it looks like I found something better!"

Gilwen laughed, then; her cheery little face becoming more so. She did not quite believe she was better than sword-fighting little boys. He could not possibly think a puny little girl was as much fun as a rough housing boy. Still, what Gilwen lacked in size she made up for in energy. She could keep up with the best of them…if she wasn’t too little to play most of the games. “Better than playing swords?” The girl teased.

“Careful, Sir Knight.” She giggled. “You best not let the other boys hear such words. Nothing should be better than swords.” She smiled and then asked once more. “Where are we going now?” She was older, and perhaps Gilwen should have been the one making the decisions. But he was bigger than she was, and she oft forgot that he was younger at times like this. And as a man, he would rightly want to be in charge, anyway.

[Dervorin]

"Better than playing swords?"

Dervorin stuck his tounge out at Gilwen, before smiling. "Yep! Besides, no one but the older boys ever want to play swords with me anymore, so its not much fun anyways."

That was true. Only the older boys would play-fight him. And they were... a bit aggressive. Dervorin always beat everyone in swords, especially on this tier... after all, he was the son of one of the best smith's in the city. He spent his time around swords, and learned them fast. The older boys, mostly from the upper tiers, they always beats him. Being noble, they had formal training with masters... and he was the only younger boy that stood a chance against them. As slim as it was.

"Well, I don't care what they think!

Where are we going? I don't know... what do you wanna do? Just being with you is fun enough, so I don't care what we do."

[Gilwen]

Sword fighting was a rough thing to begin with. While it had always intrigued Gilwen, and the girl had loved to learn some from her father, she was far too little to partake of it safely. Still, the few times she had witnessed such sparring matches from the boys she realized just how easy her Papa had taken it on her. Most of them ended in one, or both at times!, children being harmed and bloodied. It seemed as if it was not much fun to go home with cuts and abrasions. Though to many it was a matter of pride and show to have such to show for your swordsmanship. To put it plainly, Gilwen understood. And secretly, she was elated.

It was not often she got to run around with the children. For whatever reason it was hard for the talkative thing to make any friends at all. And Dervorin was fine company, for being so much younger than she. "No, you don't." She observed sweetly, her brown eyes sparkling slightly with a gleam of pride. It was a trait that Dervorin seemed to have in ample supply; to be able to cast off other people's opinions and slights was a rare thing indeed. Many of the boys were hot-tempered and wild. They could go from teasing one another to a tussle in the manner of minutes.

Something that the girls, or most of them leastways, did not find impressive. Her Mama had said something to her once when she had come home a bit upset that a fun day of play had turned into a terrible brawl. It had resulted in all of the boys being severely punished and loaded with chores; which meant no playing for any of the girls, either.

"Gilwen, do not let the boys bother you." Niniel had laughed from the kitchen at her daughter's little frown.

"Mama, they act so foolish!" Had been Gilwen's little reply. This had caused her mother to laugh more, of course and then the other words finally came.

"Oh, dear child, little boys often do. Even men can act a fool at times." Though, Gilwen had been certain her Papa never did anything of the sort. "They shall quiet down eventually, dear. They will need to take a bride eventually. And such tussles do not impress a lady." Gilwen did not know anything about that, but the promise that they would quiet eventually was enough for the small child to appreciate Dervorin, who seemed level-headed already.

The question of activity was turned once more to the girl, who rocked and shifted her weight as she turned her face into a shallow frown of concentration. Suddenly her face brightened and she glanced back over her shoulder toward her home, making sure her Mama was not listening. "We could go walk on the Pelennor. My Papa says it is unsafe, but I do not see how. The soldiers do train there, and the farmers keep an eye on children well enough." She leaned in close to share such a secret. In truth, Gilwen was a well behaved child, and did not disobey her parents in orders. Though, she could not understand the thought of the outside of Minas Tirith harboring danger, and as such had broken that single boundary that had been placed. And to her knowledge, her parents were none the wiser.

"It is ever so pretty." She added girlishly, though remembered that Dervorin was a boy and tried to make it enticing to him as well. "The cavalry is there, too." Once they got out, she would let him choose the activity. She did love the crispness of the air outside the city; the Pelennor was her favorite place in all of Arda!

[Dervorin]

Dervorin's ears perked at the mention of the Pellenor. He'd been there twice before, both with his father. The fields fascinated him. His parents always said it was dangerous for them to go without adults, but Dervorin... he was gonna be a knight He needed to face danger. So, he nodded eagerly.

"Thats a great idea Gilwen! And yes..." Dervorin glanced down both ends of the street. [b["It is kind of pretty."[/b]

((OOC:// Sorry, Short Post))

[Gilwen]

The little girl held a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun itself at Dervorin's words. "Then let us be quick about it. I do have to be back for supper," and with that, little Gilwen turned and began to move off toward the gate to the second tier. She assumed Dervorin was close behind, though finally glanced just to be certain.

The child was there, and so Gilwen did not worry. She had, of course, gone to the Field alone before. But she was supposed to be in the company of another at this time. However rude it would seem to walk off and leave him! She would not, of course, even consider doing such a thing on purpose. She was far too friendly for such things, and too polite if friendship had nothing to do with it. Though, Dervorin was quite a bit taller than she was; indeed, his strides were longer too. Her pace had to be quickened to keep up with his. This Gilwen did not mind; it was something she had to do often.

There were bustling people about on the second tier, just as the third. Though, it seemed the closer you got to the main gate, the crosser the people were you came across. The second tier was known for the people who did not mind their step and did not apologize. Of course, there were plenty of people who did such things---unfortunately only the negative was relayed to the higher tiers. Great exampled on either account were playing out before the children as they moved down the street, and Gilwen moved a slight closer to Dervorin to avoid some commotion herself. She was, after all, very small. It would not be impossible to bump shoulders with her and not realize it.

But it was the first tier that was horrible. It seemed to be teeming with drunkards, though Gilwen assumed that was not quite right either. It was probably just that the drunkards were out along the cobbled stones and the others tucked away in work or in preparation for their dinner-time meal. Either way, it left a rowdy and loud bunch along the street.

"Let us hurry," Gilwen chimed lightly, trying to imply that she spoke on her curfew home, though she was really speaking on the uncomfortableness of being there. She always rushed through the first tier. Mama and Papa had once said that there were people who grabbed children to keep as their own. She did not wish to be taken.

They had finally reached the gate, and the girl anxiously shifted her weight. Quite the little squirmer, she was, or at least when such excitement rested only a gate away. The gate was opened, and the next swarm of people left the confines of the stone walls; with them were Gilwen and Dervorin.

The wooden door shut behind them and Gilwen took a deep breath of the fresh air, and did a little twirl and giggled. If her parents knew where she was, she would be in ever so much trouble. But how could something so beautiful prove dangerous? Indeed the golden grasses glinted in the sunlight of the afternoon, and the sky seemed clear of all clouds. Off in the distance one could see the tree-line of the Firien Wood, and the looming mountains that seemed to cradle their city.

She looked to Dervorin. "Here we are," she seemed to sing, though it was quite obvious they had reached their destination. She grinned a bit. "It is rather lovely today."

[Dervorin]

Dervorin bounded after Gilwen, excited at the prospect of going out on the Fields with his best friend. He didn't know what they would do when they arrived, but when they did, it would be fun. That, he was sure of.

At the second tier, Dervorin smiled as he ran. He had spent much time here with his father, as the second tier was home to his father's first tavern. Although sold in past seasons, the tavern's patrons remembered Delthor and his son quite well, and many were the times his father took him down here to visit particularly memorable friends. Unusual, by most upper tier resident's standards, but for Delthor and his son, it was nothing big at all.

The first tier however, that was a place Dervorin never spent to much time in. On both prior trips to the Fields, his father had ushered him through this level quite quickly. The tittering drunks that comprised much of the visible residents smelled strongly of ale, more so then even Delthor's son was used to.

However, the building anxieties were quickly forgotten upon their arrival at the gates. With so many members of the guard here, the chance for incident was extremely low. Not even the most vicious scum would dare commit a crime within hearing distance of the Gate's guards. After all, they were notoriously swift in ending criminal's miserable getaways.

Thats when the gate opened, and Dervorin and Gilwen walked out with the rest of the crowd waiting for exit. Or rather, simply pushed along, walking being the wrong phrase. With such a crowed group, only the people on the outsakirts truly 'walked' out.

Outside the White City, Dervorin took in a deep breath. Though only seperated by but a wall, the air outside Minis Tirith was amazingly fresh, free from the stench of beggars, drunks, and animals. Dervorin's near-permanent smile spread into a grin, and he gave a little childish giggle as the other exiters continued on and left the two children alone outside the Gate.

As the doors closed behind him, Dervorin gazed across the expansive Pellenor, taking in the lovely site. Many times he had seen it from within the city, but actually standing upon the field, seeing it from its own level... the feeling that crept over the boy's heart was one of pure joy and awe.

"Here we are... It is rather lovely today."

Upon Gilwen's words, Dervorin turned to his friend. He nodded in agreement. "It is quite beautiful, isn't it Gilwen?"

And almost as beautiful as you... This sudden though within Dervorin's head took him by surprise, although it was truthful. She looked quite pretty in the afternoon sun, the golden rays playing over her hair. As he thought this, a feeling of mixed admiration and embarresment rose up in his gut. He was but a boy of eight, though. Thoughts such as those were reserved for the older children.

Shaking such thoughts from his head, he returned Gilwen's smile with his own. "So, what do you want to do now?"

[Gilwen]

There was just so much space. Minas Tirith had ever been a closed city, which alone accounted for small spaces; this city, though, had not been bigger than the third tier to little Gilwen, or at least not until she had ventured to the plains alone at the age of eight. The wonder that had swept through her, then, resurfaced each new trip to the golden grasses. Such wonder and awe glimmered in her eyes as she watched the land vanish into the horizons---as her young mind whirred with imagination as to what laid beyound the boundaries of her sight.

"It is quite beautiful, isn't it Gilwen?"

She turned and nodded emphatically. "Yes!" She had an idea as to why it was so pretty to leave the walls of the White City. It was that the Valar wished to gift the people of Gondor with a place that would remind them of how pretty natural things are. Sometimes Gilwen felt that the people of Minas Tirith did not recall what it was like to look beyond their own doorsteps---a rather innocent thought to be sure, though one that held wisdom that even she did not see.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

"I don't know," she hummed aloud as she looked around once more. The eleven year old was quite a ball of energy, so she desired to move about. Simply sitting in the grasses would not do for now. "A walk sounds nice." She finally decided rather cheerily. It was not something, she imagined anyway, Dervorin did often. In fact, she had an idea that the only time he truly slowed down and wasn't rough-housing around with the other boys was when he was with her. Gilwen did not understand the fond way that the aspiring knight thought of her, for indeed to her it seemed that he was simply playing the gentleman.

"I am sure its not something a knight does often," she added playfully, grinning. "Though, knowing the land is probably quite useful. I know we can't go far...but right now I just don't want to sit here and not see everything." She was rambling, of course; in her young age, Gilwen was still rather excitable. It took a lot to calm her, not a lot to amuse her, and absolutely nothing to make her smile. The words of course were a bit stretched and exaggerated; she was well aware that she was not going to see everything. She had wanted to when she was younger---at eight she had declared she would one day see all of Arda. This, as she grew older, faded away to nothing more than a deep desire. And, given a few more years it would well vanish altogether. Still, the child had not lost her hunger for the unachievable. Not quite yet.

She started off on her own, then, expecting Dervorin to follow happily. It was something that was curious to her---he never really argued about what they were going to do. He often let her decide what the two would be doing on an outing; sometimes even doing things she was sure he did dislike. She paused there and looked to him then, and frowned lightly as she thought on this for some moments.

"Why don't you decide, Dervorin. You always do the things I want to do. A real lady allows the man to make such decisions." She released her frown to smile lightly. It was true, a lady kept her mouth shut and followed orders. The first part came incredibly hard for the child. The second she was getting right good at, if she did say so herself. She always had been quite capable of laying aside her own desires to fulfill those of others. Whether it was helping her Mama in the kitchen, or sitting still at the dinner table for her Papa.

And, aside from all of this, if Dervorin desired to be a knight, he very well had to become a gentleman worthy of the court. Best begin now! And so, she waited for his response.