The guards at the halls doors come to attention and the sound of booted feet, different in sound from those of the guards, can be heard. A moment later Captain Rinkair, flanked by two somber looking Marines is framed in the doorway. Rinkair's face is set in solemn lines and he looks as if he has swallowed a bitter pill. His eyes do not move from in front of him as he looks at the Stewards chair.

Brianna shifts where she stands, watching the proceedings at her father's command. Eyes widen in surprise and she lifts a hand to her mouth to hide her expression at the sight of
Rinkair, eyes are dropped quickly, hidden behind lashes as she sets her face in a look of serene interest.

A man just inside the doorway holds up a piece of parchment in front of himself as he anounces in a loud voice, "Captain Rinkair and enterage from the Alcarondas to present themselves before the Steward." He then looks over toward the company and gives a nod of aproval.

Rinkair nods to the man and steps forward quickly, his boots ringing dully on the floor. The sound is amplified by the two marines, in perfect time with their captain, as the three approach the Stewards chair. All three kneel upon reaching the chair and Rinkair's voice can be heard quite clearly, "My Lord, I have grave news to report."

Denethor sits in his large stone chair like a spider with his staff of office layed across his knees, his hands resting on either end. He looks out of deep shadowed eyes, torchlight playing across the hall adding to the dark shadows as well. He says in an almost slow but firm voice, "Rise good Captain and tell me of the woe you bring to me this day."

Rinkair stands and his eyes are troubled but his voice is firm and steady, "My lord, I must report my failure to you. The Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth entrusted a gift to my care. One that was to be brought to you here as a token of his good will. Due to my dereliction of duty I have lost the gift m'lord and am unable to present it to you."

Brianna's starlight grey eyes turn to Rinkair's face, only the soft whisper her skirt makes as she moves, betraying her presence and her movement. Concern touches her eyes at the sight of Rinkair's face.

Denethor stays sitting stoic and unmoving, his face as rigid as the stone of the great throne he sits upon. He says nothing and his breath barely makes his chest rise and fall as he just continues to look at Rinkair without blinking.

Rinkair looks at the Steward and considers for a moment and then says, "As far as my crew and I can determine my lord, during the storm that ravaged the coast we were still at sea and it is believed that the Merchant vessel carrying the gift went down, for we could find no trace of the ship, or of a battle. And no word has been recieved from any ports of the ships appearance."

Denethor says, "How would there be any fault to place upon yourself? Canst thou controle nature herself to have prevented such a thing?"

Brianna's voice is soft, a murmur to herself really but it is cool as moonlight and holds a laughing warmth, "Now I know the reason for your grave look onthe docks.." she claps a slender hand over her mouth as soon as she realizes she's speaking out loud....but was it soon enough

Rinkair hears a voice from behind him but the Steward's presence holds his gaze and thoughts, a small part trying to place the soft voice that he heard, "My lord, it was our duty to protect them from nature if need be, we should have been able to stay close enough to them to rescue the gift and the crew if she foundered and went down. That was our charge, and in the storm we lost contact with them, which is our fault my lord. We are the pride of the navy and as such should have been by her at all times."

Several of the men seated near Brianna look at her with first surprise then reproach as she almost disturbs the audience before them.

Brianna blushes prettily, dipping her head with a hand still pressed over her mouth. She lifts eyes to the Steward's face, then back to Rinkair's, sympathy and concern touching her grey eyes.

Denethor raps the fingers of his right hand once across the head of his sceptre as he considers the words from Rinkair. As he does so his eyes close for a moment as he gathers his thoughts and assesses the mans words. As the deep dark lively pits of his eyes look back upon Rinkair he says, "Of me, you have no worry. I am happy at recieving Lord Imrahil's gift, wethere it be before me in actuality or in spirit. Return unto my kindly brother and let him know his gift was well recieved. Explain to him the circumstances you have laid before me and tell him that I was agrivated not."

Rinkair looks at Denethor and says, "My lord.. The gift was 12 dancers of exquisite beauty and grace.. Their lives have been forfeited due to my negligence. I would ask that something be done in memory of them my lord."

Brianna's lips part in a tiny sigh of relief, a murmur of "Fair and honest judgement" escapes her lips before she realizes she spoke out loud. Silent instantly this time, as she looks towards Rinkair, biting her lip slightly.

Denethor dips his head uncharecteristically as he hears of the demise of those lives, "It grieves me to learn of the deaths of these loyal and giving subjects. I shall give them what honors I can. Have the Prince assign men to the families of those lost to the storm, not only those twelve of whom you spoke, but all upon that fateful ship. When they go unto those families have them learn what may be done to ease thier suffering and then return unto me with that news so that I may extend my hand unto them. It shall not equal thier loss, though there is naught I can do to equal that but, I shall do what I can."

Rinkair nods and bows to Denethor, his face grim and says, "It shall be done as you have said my lord."

Denethor says, "Is that all?"

Brianna starts again to speak, her voice very soft this time, "Captain...." she falls silent swiftly a blush rising to the crowns of her cheeks as she turns to focus her eyes on the Steward, hoping silently she's not drawn his anger to her, nor that of the Captain

Rinkair nods and says, "Yes m'lord. Are we dismissed?"

Denethor says, "You are dismissed."

Rinkair bows and turns, the Marines rising as one to fall into step with their Captain, Rinkair's eyes, while still grim, search out over the crowd for the familiar voice that he has been hearing. He spots Brianna and for a moment seems surprised but he recovers quickly and nods quietly to her as he walks down the corridor and out of the open doors. The sound of his boots echoing faintly through the hall even after his departure.