Niphredil of Gondor (Minas Tirith)

Character Name: Niphredil, though those that know her best sometimes call her “Niffy”.

Name Meaning: She is named for the snowdrop flower that grew in her mother’s window planter and bloomed the day of her birth.

Age: 22

Date of Birth: February 15th.

Race: Man

Residence: Minas Tirith

Profession: Once an aspiring musician for the Steward’s court, she is now a tailor. The transition was unintentional, and she is not in love with her current vocation, and misses her minstrel work.

Appearance: Niphredil is tall, particularly for a Gondorian woman, standing at around 5’10”. She is thin, willowy-limbed, and bears a long face. She is crowned with dark brown hair, and jeweled with eyes like soil. Niphredil is self conscious about her feet; she finds them to be unfeminine and large.

Before she lost her hearing, Niphredil was bright smiles, singing laughter, and radiated joy and love and peace from her face like a beacon. Now, though, she seems to be in mourning, lips nearly constantly set into a pout, and eyes woeful and deep.

Personality: Niphredil has always been kind, demure, and gentle. She was raised by her parents to be helpful, and as such takes care of her siblings and cousin as much as if they were her own ducklings, though in particular Rovain. There was a time when she was used as the family’s listening ear, hearing each sister’s and Gwae’s troubles easily, and in a way that her mother and father were not so easy to approach. She is full of love, and grace, and she carries herself with the elegance of the music she loves to play upon her harp. Running off to play the instruments in the shop next door was Niphredil’s only form of rebellion, for she loves her family deeply.

Much has changed since her fever, though.

Now, instead of speaking and carrying herself as if she belongs, she sinks into herself trying to make her tall form look smaller, and speaks softly so as to not draw attention to herself any longer. She is full of pain, and sorrow, and looks lost in her own skin now that she cannot hear. Her harp collects dust in the corner, and she has an attachment to the slate board she carries with her if she has to leave the house.

She still clings to her family, as what is left of them are still the most constant thing she has, however, she harbors guilt, fear, and sadness for missing the sounds of their tears, their laughter, and the words they used to speak to her in privacy. She is restless, trying to discover where she fits in a world of music that went silent. 





Parents:

Lathron, father. 47.

Lairiel, mother, 48. Deceased November 3009.

Sibling(s):

Gwaedholon, 18. (Cousin, raised as sister and friend.)

Haleth, sister. 17.

Eruli, sister, 14.

Rovain, sister. 10.

Spouse: None.

Children: None.

History: 

Lairiel was the daughter of a weaver, and it gave her a unique position to meet and win over the handsome son of the tailor by her simple grace and kind eyes. They were married as soon as Lathron was able to afford the rent in a place of their own, and they began their life together: Lathron was a fresh faced man of twenty-one, Lairiel twenty-two.

Four years later, she bore their first daughter, and so it was that Niphredil came.

She was the pride and joy of her family, and a well-behaved infant on top of it all. Lullabies worked upon her immediately, and she rarely shed a tear save for when she needed cleaning or feeding. Niphredil was a joy to her parents, and her grandparents, and as she grew to be as beautiful as the snowdrops of her namesake, she brought life to a small home on the third tier of the city.

Her pleasant demeanor as a baby was enough to con her parents into thinking that having more children was a good idea, and starting when Niphredil was four, they managed to continue adding to the family. It often seemed to be ever growing.

Niffy grew up doing her lessons in writing and mathematics in the tailor shop, apprenticing for part of the day to learn the trade of her father and mother. Niphredil was bored of such things, though. Needle and thread were of no interest to her, and she often stole away, following the sound of music to the next door shop of harps, fiddles, flutes, and drums. That was, of course, when she was not spending time with her friend Finlach.

She was eight when she told her parents she did not wish to learn sewing or weaving, and that she was going to be a musician for the Steward. At first, Lathron and Lairiel were reluctant to help their daughter pursue a vocation they did not think was going to be lucrative enough to keep a roof over her head, trying to barter her with lessons if she also finished her work in the shop.

They were surprised when Niphredil did such a thing with no problem, often dashing to the store next door to learn her notes and hand positions upon the harp, for that was her favorite instrument to hear. Her parents sneaked down to hear her play, and upon realizing their daughter had true talent, they released her from their own apprenticeship and gifted her to a music teacher full time. So it was when she was nine years of age, Niffy could call herself a true musician.

Eruli was born, and both Lairiel and Lathron thought such would be the end of their growing household. Having taken in Gwaedholon, and having three daughters of their own, both felt their house was complete. Niphredil helped around the house, watching her younger siblings with a careful, mothering eye she seemed to adopt naturally, and while Eruli was a whiz-popper of a child, managed to keep them all from harm. Things continued for a few years in this way, and happiness reigned.

It was surprise, then, when Lairiel discovered she was with child again at the age of thirty-eight. Much of the housework fell to Niphredil this time around, her mother’s body seemingly protesting the strain of pregnancy. She was tired, and bled often, which led the midwife to put her on bed rest for nearly the last half of the pregnancy. Rovain was born healthy despite all of the complications, though Lairiel was never the same.

She became weaker, as if her body had withered, passing too much life to the little life she had born, and even sewing for long bouts became difficult. Lairiel still smiled often, laughing at her daughters’ elaborate stories, and did her best to help her husband with his work. A wet nurse was hired to assist with feeding Rovain, for Lairiel was not producing enough milk to keep the baby fed, and once again things settled into a pattern of somewhat normalcy.

When Niphredil was sixteen, she was hired for her first performance: a wedding party for a rather poor family upon the second tier. She played for a pittance, but soon word spread of her talent, and she was picked up for other parties as well. It did not take long before she was playing on the upper tiers as well. However, Niphredil had a dream that went beyond weddings and dinners. She wanted to play at the balls for the Steward himself.

She auditioned many times, though the offer did not come until October 3009. Elated, Niphredil ran nearly the whole way home, stopping first into the glazier’s shop to tell her friend Findlach the good news. She was going to be a supporting harpist at the Yule Ball! Her dream was at hand.

He had been proud, but also noted the slight sniffle she had developed. “You should go home and rest, Sniffy Niffy,” he had told her. She had agreed and rushed home to once more share the news.

However, those were the last words she ever heard from Fin at all.

By the next morning it became clear she had developed a terrible fever; she had caught a sickness that was sweeping through the lower tiers like fire. Niphredil does not recall much of what happened while she was ill, just that when it passed, her world of light and music was gone; people’s mouths moved, but no sound came out. It did not matter how many times she shook her head or rubbed her ears—the world was completely silent. More than this, dizzy spells began. Sometimes not so bad, other times debilitating, they come without warning, and can bring her to her knees.

Niffy felt stifled, and lost without her hearing, and it only grew worse when her mother took ill with the same sickness and lost her own fight that November. Unable to hear the cues of the orchestra, Niffy was released from her position at the Yule Ball, and with heavy sadness returned to the life of a tailor. She has not the skill her sisters do in clothing, though, and so finds even the use of needle a poor fit. There is yet a veil of sadness in her home, and Niphredil feels guilt that she cannot hear when her sisters cry and need her comfort.

She is hoping there is a place out there for her, though every day she eyes her harp and wishes there was something that could help her get her dream back.