Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[Butterbeer]

Sir Bumbledore's stomach rumbled ... he was hungry after so much strenous exercise...

Standing in the corner alone he had quenched his thirst ... where was the professor of wines he mused? he would welcome some thoughts on the wine list tonight ...

Attempting to light his pipe he fumbled for his tinder-box ...

"Sauron's balls!" he sighed ... where the blazes was it?

Surreptisously he delved into the dark and deep recesses of his dressing gown, absently pulling out a cork, some athelas drops, an obscure looking ring and of course his set of daggers ... always a good party peice those, he smiled ....

....

after a slight pause in reminiscence ... Bumble's peircing eye bulged and he ran a hand through his shock of silvery hair .... mmm ... bushy eyebrows bristling with concentration he set his sharp but chaotic mind to concentrating ....

now ... what was he looking for again?

[Gordis]

At this moment the doors to the dining hall opened. Aiwendis glided to the King and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, the dinner is served. Allow me to take you to the table".

With a wistful glance at Earniel, Valandil offered his hand to Aiwendis and led the way to the Hall.

Earniel turned to Rian, intending to go with her, when the chancellor bowed before her and offered his hand. "Allow me to lead you, Fair Lady. I have always wished to come to know the Lady of Nin-in Eilph better"

[Willow Oran]

"It seems they've finally decided to feed us." Marty commented, seeing the doors open, "I was beginning to wonder if how long they were going to make us wait."

He and Mahtaliel had drifted to the side of the hall where they had talked about the upcoming classes. Mahtaliel had been gratified to find that he was interested in smith work, and as the conversation went on she had become more and more open. Students always had that effect on her. Mahtaliel may have come to Tharbad for lack of any other place to go, but she had stayed because she truly loved teaching.

"I believe they had some last minute re-arranging to take care of." She replied cheerfully, "But come, will you escort an aged professor in?"

"Gladly my Lady."

[Udukhaturz]

Maethor was on his seventh goblet of wine when a servant came by his table and directed him to go to the dining hall. He looked around for Malaphel and Miriel and was pleased to see that they were occupied and not looking for him. Both were talking to a stately older man and woman. He saw from their thoughts that this pair was their parents, Lord Azarbel and Lady Nimloth. "Useful information," he thought, and filed it in his mind.

Finishing his goblet, he followed the servant into the dining hall. His gray eyes flicked to those who were already present at the table. He wondered how much more time it would be before the meal began. He stood respectfully waiting behind his chair until the Chancellor would announce, "Let the feast begin."

The night would perhaps be a long one. When it would be appropriate, he would have another goblet of wine and devote his full attentions to it. He wondered who would be sitting beside him. Soon enough he saw Malaphel and Miriel and their father and mother, the Lord and Lady of Tharbad. There was also an elderly sort wearing a dressing gown and slippers. "By the flame of the Master!" he thought. They were all walking towards his end of the table. Perhaps he would order a whole bottle of wine.

[Lotesse]

Viniglaen leaned in close to Laslech's glossy dark neck, and breathed deep of the sweetly musty smell of the horse's fur, as the two of them grew acquainted with one another by galloping free around the Tharbad Park grounds. After a few minutes, they slowed to a trot, and as they passed across Menetar Boulevard and headed toward Orrodel, Viv spotted the town Chief Constable, walking along with his hands behind his back and whistling a little tune to himself. She reigned Laslech in to a gentle walk, in order to politely acknowledge him as she passed.

"Good e'en to you, milady!" The constable was an endearing and much liked figure in Tharbad, devoted to his position and kind-hearted and fair to the core.

"And to you as well, sir," responded Viv, as she continued.

"I say, milady, it is a mite dangerous this eve'nin' for a Lady to be out an' about ridin' alone."

"Why?" asked Viv. One thing about Viv, she'll cut to the chase.

"Ah, milady, t'is an unusual happ'nin' to be sure, but we've just apprehended a rather dangerous sort 'a fella for lurkin' 'round riverbanks lookin' for trouble," the Constable replied. "Would 'e like an escort home, milady?"

"No, sir, I live only over there," said Viv, pointing across the way to the looming structure of Orrodel Mansion. "I thank you kindly for your concern, though." She flashed him one of her trademark disarming, charming smiles, her deep violet eyes belying naught but pure sweet innocence and youth.

"Very good then, milady, well, t'were a delight to have met you this eve'nin', Lady..."

"I am Lady Viniglaen," Viv said. "I must take my leave now sir, I am late for an appointment." 'Yeah, appointment with getting away from the cops,' she was thinking in her head. 'But he's a sweet old fellow. I sure hope he let Grisznutz go safely. Poor old Grizzy!'

Viniglaen brought Laslech to the Orrodel stables, where one of the cute stableboys Rian had hired was only too happy to brush and water the beautiful new Mearas. She went inside, hung up her riding cloak in the foyer, and immediately headed upstairs to check on Lilly and Five. She had a feeling that Lil was up to something, and Viv was hoping it wasn't going to be what she thought it might.

Viv rapped on Lil's boudoir door twice, and let herself in. There was Lilly, sitting crosslegged on her enormous bed, trying to push a tiny rolled-up scroll of paper into the waxen effigy of what Viv could only surmise must be meant to represent Khamul. Five was looking at the ceiling, trying to chant out some spell he'd learned in Rhun years ago. Viv rolled her eyes, and shut the door behind her.

"Please tell me that you're not trying to put a pain spell on Khamul, you guys," she said, as she went over to the side of the bed and disapprovingly peered down at the sticky mess of wax pieces and ink droplets all over the bed's coverlet.

"Wait - wait - oh, I ALmost had it!" said Pen, shaking his head and squinting his eyes, still struggling to recall the words of the spell.

"Not that I'm encouraging this little game you too are up to, but Five I guarantee your memory would work a thousand times more efficiently if you didn't drink so much," said Viv.

Pen broke his concentration for a moment, and looked at her levelly. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

"No, it isn't, because Iam not the one trying to remember old Rhun spells, now am I?"

That stumped Five for a second. He blinked.

"Um - no. I mean yes. Rather - Oh, Vivvie I don't know! Say, do you happen to remember how this pain spell goes, I forget the last sentence of it."

"Even if I DIDknow, there's no way I'd encourage you two to do this to Khamul."

"Well, it IS'nt your decision, smarty-pants," retorted Lil from the bed, eyes still riveted to her funny-looking little wax doll, trying now to sculpt a tiny nose and tiny ears on the effigy of Khamul the Cruel.

"Fine, have your fun," Viv relented.

Viniglaen knew full well that there was no stopping Lil, but she also knew that Lil wouldn't even be able to cause Khamul any real damage. She'd probably just end up irritating him or pissing him off. 'Nonetheless,' thought Viniglaen, 'I should make my way over to Khamul and try and smooth the sheets before the bed gets rumpled, as they say. There's a lot to be said for the long-term benefits of preventive measury.'

"AH!" Pen gleefully snapped his fingers. "NOW I remember, my darling." He bent in low to Lilly, and as they huddled together over their waxen enemy, muttering spells, Viv left them at it, and went downstairs to head for the cellar. It was high time for a moment alone with her precious miruvor. But she didn't get far. There was a polite knocking at the door, and Zimra appeared out of the kitchen in a flash, and graciously answered the door. It was Ray!

[The last sane person]

Searching for his shirt, Ray was growling at just about everything. Drat Marty, Drat Val and the entire line of them. If they cant stand a single night without me, so be it! I thought Val was old enough not to need someone to constantly lean on...not that I wont support him, but come on, its just a bunch of girls he has to fend off... He has found the note pinned to his door by Val's squire when he went to his room. Damnit, I told him I wasnt comming today...the ninny. He really needs himself a girl. But, despite his thoughts, he was still getting dressed and brushing his hair, getting ready for the feast. As per usual, he looked resplendant in his house colors and livery.

Volricom waited for his master and trotted out of the stable, slightly miffed at loosing his Laslech. "Sorry boy, but she went to a great new home! Nothing evil will befall her if she is with Viv." Volricom snorted and stamped, still displeased. They rode together to the reception, and Ray managed to slip in unannounced. To his delight, he found both Marty and Val in conversations with elves. One he recognized as his future smithing instructor, professor Mahtaliel, and the other as AIWENDIS, chancellor's daughter. Seeing his friends in no need of him, he made way to slip back out. However, that was not to be. He litterally bumped into the Chancellor himself, who had risen to pour himself some more wine.

"Please excuse me, m'lord...My wits were elsewhere." Ray flushed a bit and bowed his head.

"You are pardoned," ILMENZOR took a second glance at Ray,"Ah, Master Raendil there you are. We didn't see you come in with the king. Dinner will be served soon, so you wont have to stand around much longer."

"Yes, I didnt come with the king, I chose to spend the afternoon with a new friend of mine, Lady Viniglaen. But it turned out that the king wished me to come anyways." Ray was pleased that he had managed to keep his annoyance out of his voice. But the chancellor's eyes twinkled with amusment.

"So you know Lady Viniglaen? I was hopping that she too would be present...she has a friend or two here that wish to see her, and it is her place, seeing as Professor Galadunnun is kin as well." Ray didn't need any mental prodding to come up with this idea.

"I will go and ask her to come, talking with her, i dont think she received an invitation. I will bring her as a guest then. If that is well, I shall be off?" He had to repress a smile. "Indeed, go speedily, you will have about twenty minutes or so." Raendil bowed, turned and left speedily, calling for a groom to fetch Volricom

At least I wont be lonely there, and I can show her the powerful people that I also know, and she likewise.

Together they raced along to Orrodel [yet again]. Knocking on the door, right as she came down. "Hey, where you going? I thought you'd be at the feast." She was still dressed lovely, and Ray grinned. "Yeah, about that, I was hoping you'd come with me. I bumped into the Chancellor, and he seemed most keen on your attending."

Raendil, you'd better watch your heart carefully around this woman...

[Rían]

"Gladly my Lady," replied Marty to Mahtaliel, and offered his arm with a gallant bow, which pleased the professor.

Walking towards the dining hall, Marty saw the Chancellor walking in a determined manner with a lovely elven lady on his arm, who seemed to be trying to include the elven lady walking behind them ... sure enough, that was the same RÃ*an, whom he had admired just the other day at Orrodel! A servant had quietly informed him that he would have Professor Mahtaliel seated on his right, and a Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin on his left, and he had wondered - how many elves could there be named RÃ*an in Tharbad, after all?! There must be something interesting going on here ...

He leaned over and murmured quietly to his companion, "Professor Mahtaliel, would you mind if I offered my other arm to that lady walking behind the Chancellor? The servants have informed me that she will be seated on my other side, and I hate to see a lady enter a dinner unattended."

The Professor answered, "Certainly you may. I am pleased to see our students so attentive to such courtesies."

They changed direction slightly to intercept RÃ*an, and Marty, catching her eye, said with a polite bow and a smile, "The servants informed me that I would have a Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin seated on my left at dinner. I am pleased to see that it is you! Would you give me the pleasure of taking my other arm?"

"I thank you, kind sir," she responded, taking his proferred arm. "A banquet always tastes better when flavored with fair words and friendship."

[Gordis]

In what seemed like an age, the guests slowly filed into the Dining Hall, ablaze with lanterns on the walls and candles on the table. Open flames always made Aiwendis uncomfortable, adding an additional strain on her already overstretched nerves.

Valandil led Aiwendis to the table, a gentle smile on his face and polite words on his lips. Aiwendis smiled back. He was a kind and handsome man, this tall heir of Kings, one of a few mortal relatives she had left after the Downfall. Her Captain hated all the Line of Andunie, but Aiwendis felt, deep in her heart, that the young King, who had hardly seen sixty summers, could not be blamed for the treason of his great-grandfather, Amandil. If treason it was. It was none other than her former Master who was responsible for all the kin-slaying in the Line of Elros. Ever He leaves hate and discord in his wake...

Aiwendis remembered Isildur on the slopes of Orodruin, hacking his way through the assembled ringwraiths; Elendil on his right, Gil-Galad and Elrond on his left and an army at his back. When one of the Morgul Lord's blows sent the King's winged helmet flying, Isildur's face was revealed, bloodied, fell and distorted with hate unfathomable.
Aiwendis looked at Valandil again. He was so like his father... Would he hate her, if he knew she were a ringwraith? Of course, he would, she was a fool even to question that.

If you have this Thing, you will become just like us one day, son of Isildur. I wonder, what you will feel then...

At last all the guests were standing behind their chairs at their assigned places. The Chancellor, standing on the left of the King, announced: "Let the feast begin!"

At this signal, Aiwendis approached the King, holding a magnificent silver goblet with spiced wine. The king, who had sat down, now rose again.

"Welcome to our house, Valandil, son of Isildur, King of the Dunedain," she said in Sindarin. 'Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with thee at thy going and coming!' Her eyes shining, Aiwendis touched the rim of the goblet with her lips and offered it to the King, following an ancient custom of Atalante.

[Valandil]

Valandil stood to perform his proper office, holding the wonderful-smelling goblet before himself. Of course this duty was often handled by the host, but many times, as King, it had come to him as a courtesy. This night was stretching on rather long though, so he thought to keep it short.

"Good health and good cheer,
To those of this house and all gathered here."

Then he looked around the room and particularly at those prominent guests seated so near to him. Standing, he could just see Earniel over the Chancellor, and his eyes alighted on her last, he then returned them to Aiwendis in a nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes then drifted back past the chancellor to Earniel as he brought the goblet to his lips.

It was good-tasting, and after a small sip, he held the goblet aloft, then set it before the Chancellor and took his seat once more.

[Valandil]

As Valandil took his seat, his mind began to buzz and his head to whirl - and he laid his hands to his sides. Then he heard a voice in his head, sounding strained, but clear. "Caution... enemies about... enemies... known from... before...!"

It did not 'feel' like Oreturion... where was that coming from?

[Serenoli]

Jas Fernik was punctual... and forgetful. Or rather, he wished to be punctual always, but as his memory was worse than that of old Sir Bumbledore, he was invariably late. And of course, since he prized punctuality, this made him even more embarrassed every time he was late.

But today, he would be on time.. he would reach the Reception Hall before even the Chancellor. No way he would be late in front of the yong King. Three hours before the party would start, he was dressed and ready, in his little room in the University. And he waited and waited, staring at his wall-clock. But the time wouldn't pass.

So he picked up a book on miruvor, and its properties... written by himself, and his most prized possession . And I am afraid the dear old man fell asleep in the midst of a quite excellent passage dealing with the change in the taste of miruvor over time...

And as he slept, he leaned forward on his book, and the longer he slept the more he leaned, until finally, he toppled face forward onto the ground. That woke him up fine, and he made a mad dash to the main University building after a glance at the clock, and a single, agonized cry.

And how shall I describe the poor man's feelings as he walked, or rather crept into the Dining Hall, hoping very much no one would notice him come in? He felt like even the waiters were looking askance at him. And the King! Did not even turn in his direction! The King must think him altogether beneath his notice. But worst of all was the Chancellor. That man always gave Jas goosebumps, and when he turned his pale eyes towards him, even though it was only for a moment, he shivered. He had a feeling the Chancellor might ask him for an explanation next day, and he would feel just like a schoolboy up before his headmaster.

The only person glad to see him, (or the only one who really noticed him) was Bumbledore who hailed him, and Jas gladly slid into the seat beside him. Bumbledore began talking at once...

[Butterbeer]

"Evenin' Jas ...."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl followed the crowd into the Main Hall. Most other guest's were escorting or being escorted. The only person that was not was Rian and there was no way in Angband that Khamûl was going to escort her to dinner. Anyway, Khamûl didn't go in for relationship's much. He had never taken a wife in Rhûn, he never had as much as girlfriend. The only woman that had ever kissed Khamûl was his mother, and that was when he was five. Families were nothing but trouble for warriors. It was just something else for another army to have against you. He didn't need the hassle of having to resue an abducted family after battle. And now there was even less need. Mortal women would only be alive for a brief passing in Khamûl's life, and an elf would be to risky, imagine having their Caliquendi relatives over lunch. And the less said about Dwarven women the better.
Khamûl found his seat. On his right there was an empty space with the name Raendil and servent's were busy setting up another space on the right of him. On his left was standing Mahtaliel. That name was unknown to him, but all would be revealed shortly. Moments later it was. It was the elf who he had been engaged with him in a 'staring contest' earlier. Maybe they could 'talk'. Khamûl could get to know that real Mahtaliel, get inside her head. Opposite him was one of the sister's who had been attempting to woo Maethor. Next to her was Maethor who was sandwiched between the two sisters.
When all the guests were standing behind their chairs at their assigned places. The Chancellor, standing on the left of the King, announced: "Let the feast begin!"
Before every body sat down Aiwendis approached Valandil with a golden goblet when she said something in an elven language.
"Good health and good cheer,
To those of this house and all gathered here," said the King, who took a sip from the cup before placing it before the Chancellor.

[Earniel]

Eärniel had let herself be led to her seat by the Chancellor, quite an honour. But although he was courteous to a fault, there was something about him that made her on her guard. Yet she couldn't quite say why.

He had made her feel uneasy yesterday evening as well, when she had been under the impression it was being around so many people that put her on edge. But now that she felt exactly the same around him this evening she wasn't so sure anymore.

She recalled hearing Marty yesterday retelling the story of Ilmenzor's fortunes in the war, how he had been captured and tortured by the Úlairi. Eärniel knew few men survived those ordeals, none completely recovered. Could it be that which troubled her about him? Some lingering darkness, some remaining shadow from the terrible darkness that had touched him?

But the Chancellor seemed in good health, completely recovered from those dark days. There was a certain hardness about him, but nothing else that Eärniel could discover at first glance that supported her theory. In thruth the Chancellor was a mystery to her, but not one she was keen on solving either.

She then heard the Chancellor's daughter offer the King a cup in an old custom. Eärniel didn't look up although she could feel the King's gaze linger on her a little longer than necessary. A little more discretion on his part might not be unwelcome, she mused.

But her attention was diverted to Oreturion, the King's adviser, who had been seated between her and RÃ*an. The man suddenly seemed somewhat distressed for some reason, although he hid it well.

"My lord, "Eärniel whispered, "Are you well? You seem ill at ease."

[CrazySquirrel]

"Here is a needle, My Lady!" Zimra had to tap on the closed door of the master bedroom repeatedly, before Penny, walking on unsteady feet, managed to open the door.
"Ahh, fair little maid!" cried Penny enthusiastically, attempting to grab her around the waist. "Come, join us, me beauty!"
He was disheveled and reeked of wine, not to mention the fact that he was dressed in Lilly's best rose dressing-gown, now covered with oily smears and ink stains.
Zimra blushed furiously, thrust a needle in Penny's sleeve and flew downstairs, indigned. She was a true daughter of the Faithful, and a no-nonsense personality herself.

Hooting with laugher, Penny returned to the bed, and fell on it next to Lilly. His eyes riveted to the little wax doll, representing the former overlord of Rhun and Khand, the spear of terror in Sauron's hand, Khamul the Cruel and Terrible. Now the figure was finished and named, the link to Khamul strengthened by the spell, which Penny managed to fish from the mire of his wine-befuddled brain.

'My dear, did you really NEED to sculpt All these details?' gigled Penny, wiping tears with his long sleeve and leaving ink-smears across his face.

"Details are important!" answered Lilly, holding a long sewing needle in her shaking hand. 'It is in this very detail that I will stick my needle'.

Squinting, Lilly made several attempts to pierce the chosen place, but her aim was amiss. Finally, Lilly uttered a mighty curse and impaled the figure through the lower body.
Shaking with laugher, Penny and Lil rolled in the bed, swirling the impaled doll in circles at the end of the needle's thread.

[Grey_Wolf]

It was evening, and Falco was awaiting the arrival of the Mountain Wolves of GOP. Grey shadows slipped through the black night. Old Grey and White Patch, while the remaining pack held back waiting for a signal to come along, approached the spot where Falco was waiting.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel watched Valandil drink from the goblet. She was surprised to see that he didn't drain it as was customary, but the boy had to be nervous seated as he was, sandwiched between the Chancellor and his daughter with all his advisors and friends seated farther down; his caution was understandable. Mahtaliel was glad she had decided to go through with her idea to revive an old custom of Eregion at the last minute.
She had hesitated, wondering if it was really appropriate, and there hadn't been time to inform the Chancellor before. She had only had time to deliver the gem she had chosen and her instructions to the steward in charge of bringing in the welcome goblet.
Choosing the gem had also taken a long while. The custom she wished to revive was the custom of placing a carefully chosen gem in the bottom of the goblet when welcoming a visiting lord. The gem could be anything, depnding on the wishes if the host towards the lord, each gem had it's own set of properties that could be beneficial or detrimental.
After hesitating over amethyst, deliberating about the garnet and pasing over the others she had finally settled on a finely cut piece of Topaz.
Hopefully it wouldn't need to be anything more than a pretty addition to the cup. Hopefully the steward had remebered to add it.

"Lady Mahtaliel." As though summoned by her thoughts the steward had appeared at her elbow, "I did as you asked, it was a fine thought, I'm sure the king will appreciate it should he ever reach the dregs."

Relieved she thanked him and took her seat. As she did she heard a choked off gasp from her right. She turned, the new professor, Galadanunn, she saw his name was, had one hand clutched to his abdomen, his face white. He seemed determined not to show any greater signs but as she was sitting next to him it was impossible for her not to notice that he was in pain.

"Are you well?" She inquired.

[Butterbeer]

professor Bumbledore cut short his words to Jas ... though a merry old soul and a king's man to boot ... he was a stickler for tradition ... the University had been (and still was of course) his life ...

standing up slowly with a chorus of creaks, his dressing gown billowing out around him dramatically (casting strange candlelit shadows on the wall behind him) he stood up hunched but proud ...

raising an arm he caught the assembled diners and dignataries attention ... a hush fell ... Aiwendis and the Arch-chancellor seemed to his sharp eye to peirce him with a sharp look, before slowly relaxing and smiling ... the king's man next to the elf also gave him a similar look before looking plain confused and worried ...

"Sire! ... Lord of the Dunedain, most welcome son of Isuldir, ...Arch-chancellor, my Lords and Ladies!, fellow proffessors all!" he began

before raising his glass for a wee sip and slurp ...

"may i toast you Sire and welcome you to the university of Tharbad! It is indeed a great honour to the university, to the arch-chancellor and to us all to have you among us ..."

raising a glass to salute the King all rose and toasted the king. While all were still standing, Sir bumbledore continued ...

"Sire, it is the tradition here at the new academic year official reception that the guest of honour down the goblet proffered in one drink, that it may lead to a fertile and fullsome year of study and that we may thus let the learning and love of learning go to our heads ... may i politely ask you King valandil to honour our small tradition!"

Sir bumbledore smiled beningly ... all eyes turned to the High king ... Aiwendis again stood up formally and offered the goblet to the High King ...

[Udukhaturz]

From his seat at the opposite end of the table, Udu watched as Khamûl clutched his stomach in agony. Udu was enjoying observing Khamûl's face turn white. "He looks just like a fish that has been dead a long time," Udu thought to himself, and laughed.

The doughty elf professor was looking towards Khamûl with an expression of surprise. Amused, Udu enjoyed watching her, too. The evening was becoming quite interesting. He considered the possibilities of what might happen next. Would all the guests and servants rush to Khamûl and offer him smelling salts? Would they make a great stir about him as he writhed there in agony? Udu stifled a laugh and hoped that Khamûl would slump face downward on the table. Udu would find amusement in seeing that, and it would keep Khamûl's attention off him for a while.

He sent this thought message to Khamûl, "How are you enjoying the festivities, old friend? Oh, sorry to see the look of distress upon your face. Must have been something you ate."

[Lotesse]

"Is that so?" replied Viniglaen, smiling very happily. "If the Chancellor's keen on seeing me there, and you are to be my date, then what on middle-earth are we waiting for?"

"What indeed, Vivvie my lady," said Ray, as he extended his arm for her to take. "Shall we?"

They decided to walk to the dinner, as it was less than a five minute walk away from the Mansion. Viniglaen had chosen to wear what she was already wearing; she despised dressing up in dresses all the time. Not that she despised dresses - au contraire, but they were already running late, and she looked so elegant and sharp in her dark-grey cashmere Elven-style form fitting top, trimmed with tiny diamonds around the neckline and the long, bell-like sleeve hems. Her thick, wavy shortish hair was fastened at the side with one of her trademark tanzanite, amethyst and mithril barrettes, and her dark-grey perfectly tailored riding breeches accentuated her strong, small legs and heart-shaped bottom. The highly polished jet black riding boots finished the whole ensemble perfectly. At least, Raendil certainly thought so.

Viv and Ray were ushered in gracefully by one of the liveried butlers, who showed them to their seats at the dinner table. As Viv made herself comfortable next to Khamul, she glanced quickly at his face, and saw that Lil and Pen must have finally gotten their little spell right.

"Good evening to you, my cousin," she said for the surrounding guests to see and hear. Then, bending in right next to him, quite close, she whispered to Khamul so low that only a bat could have understood what was said.

"I tried to get here as soon as I could, to let you know what they were up to," she said to him. "It's just a weak gastrointestinal spell; perhaps now that you know you can counter it off. I am sorry you feel pain, my lord."

"It's not your fault, Vivvie, and I thank you for your cocern, little one,"answered Khamul.

"I beg you, my lord, please do not punish them again. Please, my lord. Can you just talk to them, perhaps tomorrow, you know - give them a good 'talking to?' "

"I'll take care of my business my way, Viniglaen, but your words are duly noted," Khamul said brusquely, yet not with unkindness. His stomach pain had indeed been merely trifling, and had dissipated almost as soon as Viv told him from whencve it had come.

Speaking normally now, Professor Galadannun laughed off his painful little episode, and answered Mahtaliel.

"Yes, yes, I am fine," he said, "I fear I sometimes get a bit of indigestion from all the rich drink at such resplendent functions!" He chuckled a little, as if enjoying a private joke, and took a sip of his water.

Udu, who had been eyeballing Khamul and Viv's inaudible tete-a-tete, smiled inwardly. He could not acknowledge Viv publically; they were never supposed to have known each other at all as far as the public was supposed to know, but he and little Vivvie went back, far back. It was Udu who had taught Viniglaen how to be a deadly fighter, how to wield a sword, and how to make her petite stature and natural strength and quickness work to a great advantage in instances of potential one-on-one combat. He had taught her well; she was a deadly Nazgul indeed.