Dark haired and grey eyed like her forbears, Forvenya holds a distinct resemblance to her grandmother Arwen Undómiel, which she is fond of; though to her chagrin lacking the distinctive pointed ears of the elves, as she is merely of the mortal, half- Dúnedain, half elf, though the mannish blood has always held stronger within her.
She is particular of her appearance, unblemished in all ways; every hair set in place, and fond of adornments and finery. Dressing to impress, Forvenya makes keen use of her perfumes, and scented oils to drown out the odor of horses which her husband brings into the chambers with him. She smells as a meadow in comparison.
Personality
Forvenya is floundering and grasping through her station in life, hoping on her schemes, always slightly unhappy and knowing that will not change for the sake of the way things are; yet she focuses on bettering herself and deems herself to be doing quite well as far as things go; at least, this is what she tells herself to refrain from despair.
While she is usually able to control herself; to think one thing and say another, Forvenya cannot always handle her matters coolly, and resorts at times to insult, snipping, and offense giving. Forvenya has somewhat of a temper when things push her beyond her breaking point. It not often that she is given to full out tantrums, but things which prick her deep can lead to later regrettable outbursts. Finding herself to be among the betters of society, Forvenya's lofty attitude keeps her eyes situated above the dregs of city. She spends her time and attention on only those she deems worthy; and she finds that as time goes on and she has become accustomed to the realities life has to offer, her own standards have risen.
Beneath it all, Forvenya does have heart and desires beyond her position in the household of the King. She cherishes her close friendships and is fiercely devoted to them, finding her “sisterhood” being the place of her belonging… and still, never quite enough.
Family
Parents: High King Eldarion Telcontar and Isadriel Siblings: Elessar II, Húrin, and -- Husband: Norgalad (Deceased). Children: None yet.
History
Born in the Northlands, Annúminas was the land of her birth, though the following years would see her growing and living mostly in Minas Tirith in the South, where her Grandfather Aragorn Elessar retook the lands of the Reunited Kingdom and brought the nations nearer to peace. Her kin were of Imladris. Her grandparents both raised there, and as well her mother. The land of the elves, which Forvenya knew of, but she has only seen the end of the great elvish refuge; as Rivendell nears the winter of its existence.
Forvenya has always enjoyed proper traditional ladylike virtues; sewing and embroidery, music and etiquette, she once dreamed of more; of becoming a queen. Childhood tales and children’s stories led her to believe in the wonders of noble warriors and princes in shining armor. Thoughts were instilled within her young mind, they went not much further. The duty of a royal daughter was to marry and either preserve the bloodline, or make a bond with foreign allies. Nonetheless, all princes were good. Of that she was certain, and she had nothing to fear a youth, she hoped for love. Love in the way her Grandparents loved, in the songs told of Aragorn and Arwen, of her ancient ancestors Beren and Lúthien.
As she grew among sisters and tittering cousins, however, Forvenya’s attention never clasped on to the youthful Cavalry trainees or sons of Lords, nor the Princes of Dol Amroth, of Rohan and of Dale and lands more distant. Forvenya learned to say one thing while meaning another so as to not seem ou t of place, but knew she was different early on. She would never make an admission of such things. Instead she would lay awake at night and stare at her canopy, thinking of how things might be different, and stewing in the bitterness that began to linger over her demeanor.
At the age of twenty five, Forvenya was old enough to be married, and as many of the royal bearing were known to do, she was betrothed from an early age to a grandson of Halbarad, a kinsman of her grandfather. Norgalad was name of the young man, a Dunadan, who was making his forays onto the field. For Norgalad's size and build, Forvenya was not fully upset by their bargain; he did not look as if he were a young man to last long into his first stints with the Rangers. Even if he made it that far, and they were to eventually wed, she would surely be a widow before long, and the thought suited her. Widowhood was an honorable position. She talked herself into doing well by him.
They were wed, and Forvenya had not much fondness for the man, but she did attempt to take care of him, and knew he was a kind person. She felt guilty for encouraging him on his forays with the Dunedain, and she felt guilty that she did not care about him the same as he for her. Furthermore, her boldness came lacking when it came to the act of union. She knew the point of the marriage was to produce an offspring; an heir for the man, or perhaps two, yet when the time came she constantly told Norgalad that she was not ready. Days passed. Weeks. Months. Years. She has never shared her husband's bed nor his affections, living celibate with in unconsummated marriage, and keeping to her own quarters. Norgalad did not understand, but he respected the… space she seemed to need, assuming she was just shy, and would change over time, too mild mannered to make a demand of her.
Norgalad worked hard to gain the warmth of his wife in early days, though had given up on most of his attempts, simply trying to keep her happy, and still fully devoted, loving her with unsuffering endurance. More and more often however, he sought out as much time as he could among the Dunedain, and as Forvenya expected, he met his end. She had given him no heirs.
In other ways, Forvenya has always kept busy. In truth there is little to still her until she works herself to some form of exhaustion, and her work goes beyond needle craft. Her hands are of the blood of the healer, and healing has always come naturally to her, though she wishes she had learned from Elrond Halfelven himself. Forvenya was able to seek in her Grandfather's last years as much herb-lore as he had time to spare, and her place bore her to be a thorn in the side of the Master of the Houses of Healing. As while she is quite skilled in healing, and has always been interested in the properties of plants and things of a chemical nature, subjecting her work to the elements. The Healing Halls, however, were not a good place for her, as she looses patience with the wounded. She only sees it as reasonable. Forvenya is truly no-nonsense and does not like to waste her time on what she deems a lost cause; she would rather see results.
Her father still holds the healing gem, the elessar, which was passed down to him by his father, and one day it will belong to her eldest brother, though Forvenya is certain it would be better off in her own hands. To busy herself, and to find time away from her husband during their years in Minas Tirith where he seemed to hover, she spent many days in the bleak archive towers of the city, reading the lorebooks of healing that had been passed over by those less fortunate with their leisure time. Reading that which went beyond healing herbs; to the crafting of potions and elixirs; the crafting of magic stones like the one passed through the male lineage of her family. It took the young woman some time to find a man in Minas Tirith who was willing to teach her more, for a price, though he insisted upon secrecy. Of course, because she was a woman, or at least that was what he told her. Forvenya did not exactly look deeper or question, as when her hands and mind worked alchemy she could forget the displeasure of her own life. Maybe even work to change it.
The passing of the High King came as a fell blow to Forvenya, who loved her Grandfather the healer perhaps even moreso than her own father. Now she has moved north with her family, back to the home of her birth. Some would say she has come full circle. Of course her Mentor has been paid to join the northern crowd and takes up residence in the Quarters of the city where he can still be at Forvenya’s secret beck and call….
