Taking Root (Player-Run Storyline)/Taking Root - Epilogue
Teveriel caught sight of the shadowy lupine shape first, her shaggy coat rippling in the moonlight as she shook herself. His mail and spurs jingled, serving to announce his approach as he made his way down the dark cobblestone road toward the ancient yew where he could now make out the seated form of his friend. Celothor rested against the peeling bark, eyes turned skyward to gaze at the stars through the winding branches that stretched above him.
The she-wolf set her ears low as Teveriel drew near, her large snout wrinkling as she bared her teeth in a growled warning. Celothor uttered a word he didn’t recognize, which appeared to calm the beast as she withdrew to the Ardenai’s side. “Hello, Lord Anduin,” he stated pleasantly, letting his head roll sideways to peer at him with a curious expression. “I expected you might come looking for me.”
Teveriel fixed him with a steady gaze, closing the distance between them and laying a gauntleted hand on the mighty tree’s trunk. “You must be happy with the Spiritcaller’s determination,” he offered, peering down at him with a thin-lipped smile. “This is the outcome you wanted, is it not?”
Celothor shrugged with affected nonchalance, returning the smile with a brief one of his own. “I did not bribe her,” he said plainly, “if you happen to be entertaining the same thoughts as Solvei.”
“No.” Teveriel shook his head, his gaze drifting back to the Ardenai’s lupine companion. She was staring at him with eyes of pale amber, her voluminous tongue lolling between large teeth as she panted. “I very much doubt such a woman’s faith could be so easily swayed by wealth.”
Celothor nodded his agreement with an approving hum. “You are correct, however,” he confirmed, reaching out to stroke the she-wolf’s muscular neck. “I am not unhappy with the outcome. The spirits made themselves and their will known to us.” His hand paused in stroking the wolf’s fur, however briefly. “What of Solvei?”
“Uniana is comforting her as we speak, I’m sure.” Teveriel peered at him from beneath dark, knitted eyebrows. “What do you plan to do now, Celothor? Return to galavanting about, wherever and with whomever your fancy strikes you?” Celothor tsked, shaking his head and opening his mouth to reply, but Teveriel raised his voice incredulously. “Have you learned nothing from M–”
“Do not speak her name,” Celothor hissed hoarsely, his head jerking upward to glare at the Vaalor lord in unison with the wolf rising to her full height, large and menacing as she bristled and snarled. After glaring at him a moment longer the ranger hushed her with another whispered word, then slouched against the trunk and shrugged a single shoulder. “She exposed a weakness in me that I never knew I had. But I have my life ahead of me – and I have you and Uniana, my dearest friends.” He smiled, flashing his white teeth.
Teveriel studied him for several moments in silence. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson after all. Keeping a wary eye on the she-wolf’s imposing form, he wondered if it was at too great a cost. “Very well,” he said evenly. “Then my only counsel is this, Celothor. Remember your resolve. Think of your birthright, of your people, and those who are counting upon you.” He fished something from the case he wore at his belt and held his gauntleted fist out to Celothor.
Curious, the Ardenai reached out his hand and Teveriel pressed an ironwood signet ring into his palm. “One day, you will take your father’s place. The position you deserve, the respect of your people.” Leaning toward him, he flickered his gaze once more to the wolf, meaningfully. “And the fear of those who’d rather see the old ways forgotten.” Shifting his steel grey eyes to regard Celothor again, he let his words hang for a moment before rising again to his full height.
The Ardenai was peering up at him with a profoundly thoughtful expression, nodding to himself. “You have given me much to think about, Lord Anduin,” he murmured at last. He closed his hand around the ring and hoisted himself adroitly to his feet, heaving a weary sigh. “But for tonight, I think I’ll find my rest. Please send your lady wife my warm regards.”
Teveriel didn’t bother hiding his smile as he inclined his head, stepping aside to give the wolf a wide berth as she followed Celothor down the path leading back to Timmorain Road. And there he stood in silence, watching the pair disappear on their way down the hill while he contemplated his own next move. Uniana, he knew, would be incensed.
Entering by way of the outer terrace, he found the Amaranth Arcade had largely gone quiet by the time he arrived home. A cursory glance at the gilded refectory table centered in the middle of the room noted that the porcelain tea service had seen recent use, apparently long after the servants had gone to bed. Most likely to help Uniana provide Solvei some comfort, he thought, making a mental note as he passed by to summon one of the maids shortly to take care of the mess.
She rounded on him as soon as he entered the boudoir, fresh from the bath and clad in a loose robe that billowed around her bare feet as she stalked up to him. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her head tilted sharply upward to pierce him with lilac eyes that smoldered a fiery violet in her anger. Teveriel lifted a gauntleted hand as if to ward her away and divested himself of his cloak. The gesture only increased her fury. “Our plans turned to smoke on an errant breeze, and you have nothing to say to it?”
“I went to search for Celothor,” he answered calmly, eyebrows aloft as he turned a cool gaze in her direction. “And to give him my counsel.” Turning his back to her, he hung his greatcloak carefully on one of the wall-hooks.
“And what counsel is that?” she retorted incredulously. “What is there left of this to salvage?” When he turned to her again, she had her arms folded beneath her breasts, eyes narrowed.
“Of the betrothal? Nothing,” he stated simply. “But if he’s to be given the gift of freedom, I would see that he doesn’t squander it.” She scoffed, but he cut off her protests to continue, “I’ve reminded him of his position. And that regardless of marriage, it is to his benefit – as well as ours, still – to gain the respect of his people and prepare to take his lord father’s place.”
Uniana quieted for a moment, her eyelashes falling as she lowered her gaze. “Good,” she said at last.
Teveriel nodded once, with finality. “And Solvei?” he prompted, tilting his head toward her questioningly.
“Abed,” she answered with a sigh. “She still believes in her spoiled naivete that her own father can force the issue.” Gently, he moved close to her and took her small hand into his heavy gauntlet. She drew in a breath and he felt her shiver, but she wrenched herself from her husband’s grip and stared almost desperately into his eyes. “Those ledgers were absolutely paramount to our plans.”
He regarded her with a stern frown. Once she’d set her sights on something, there would be no comforting her until she felt assured it was in their reach. Moreover, he realized she was right. “Have you considered,” he ventured, placing his hand on her shoulder to usher her into a seat in front of her vanity, “that Lord Aeldrish will be grateful to us for our efforts? This need not be the end, but the beginning of a fruitful alliance.”
Uniana blinked at him, realization dawning with a faint start. Her violet-hazed eyes were large and intense as she peered up at him. “We do have others close to us,” she began silkily. “Unburdened by the whims of witches and fickle spirits, loyal to the name of Anduin – and unmarried, do we not?”
“Lintarith,” Teveriel murmured, studying his wife calmly. It made sense; his uncle had been nudging the young elflord about finding a wife for decades now. “We would send our apologies to Lord Aeldrish, lamenting the unforeseen circumstances of the northerners’ withdrawal, and offer him an attractive alternative.”
A slow smile curled Uniana’s lips, reaching her eyes as she stood and lifted her hand to caress her husband’s face. “Have your bath and then come to bed with me,” she requested gently, letting her manicured thumb rest on his lips before she drifted towards the doorway. “You have letters to write in the morning.”