================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Night < About 3:49 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 52 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 17 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3041>
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RL time: Wed Jul 18 10:16:39 2007
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White Road - Southern Arc
As a white ribbon bordered on either side by a grey mist filled moat or by the encroaching forest of Lothlorien, the white road arcs to the northeast and northwest then disappears into the faint light of the summer night. Worn over hundreds of years by the passing of many feet, the road is smooth and without flaw. Crossing the moat to the north lies a bridge and, rising above a high green wall that encircles its base, a huge hill. The hill is populated with towers of sky-high mellyrn graced with green-and-silver leaves. To the south, a hard packed dirt pathway plunges into the forest.

Contents:
Galharth
Mia
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Starlight glistens overhead, seeming to gently speckle the late night canopy with droplets of silvery light. A light mist drifts along the golden carpeted ground, adding to the mystical flavor of the night. Song, from deep within the city becons the inhabitants to enter, drawing them towards the sweet timeless sound. It is to this that a weary ellon approaches.

"Home," Galharth mutters softly as he places one foot before the other, drawing closer to the city gates.

"The place where they have to welcome you back, whether they want to or not." A voice responds to Galharth's softly spoken word; at first hidden in shadow, soon revealed by filtered starlight to be none other than the ever-opinionated gardener. "Thankfully," Mia adds with a smirk, "with you, it is not a question of have to. I have missed you." She raises an eyebrow as she approaches, "Was it worth it?"

Turning to the voice, a smile appears upon the clothier's face, mingling with an unspoken joy that flickers in his eyes. "And I've missed you, my friend." Galharth says with sincerity. "More than once I found myself wishing that you had joined us."

The smile is fleeting, and with Mia's last question, it fades. Shaking his head, he whispers a soft no. "Perhaps all things considered, I probably shouldn't have gone."

"Well, I could have told you that before you even left the woods," Mia replies, a sigh soon following. "You sought answers and wisdom from, what, humans and shaman? You would do better to querry rocks and rivers! Now, had you gone for amusement, some sort of entertainment, or merely the prospect of adventure, you might not now be disappointed."

She pauses, head tilted slightly, "And of course you missed me! I bring unexpected joy into your life, and I am sure you needed that along your way. Just as I needed your uptight level-headedness to keep me from being bored out of my whits. Jokes and pranks don't seem to be nearly as much fun without a scandalized look upon your face to greet me."

"I expected more," Galharth mutters in a tone not unlike the wimper of a humans dog as it has it's nose rubbed into offal. "Some acknowledgement, a moment to tell me that there is nothing to learn, or that I need to seek out someone else. Anything." Shaking his head, he shrugs one shoulder. "At least embarrasment is something I can manage well."

Looking up as Mia continues, the clothier can not help but raise a brow. "You're certainly wound up this evening. Certainly you're not plotting something already.....are you?" Taking a slight step back, he hold up a hand defensively. "I'd like at least a days rest before we set about turning the wood upside down."

She is not without feeling, and the tone in Galharth's voice finds a soft spot within her. Moving beside the clothier, she reaches out a gentle hand to pat his shoulder. "Pay them no mind, as they are not worth your feelings of failure. It is their problem, not yours, that they are so short-sighted. They are..." She sighs, her head shaking sadly, "Ignorant. Ridiculously so, it would seem. So... try not to feel embarassment for yourself, but for they who cannot see past their own measly little lives."

A soft chuckle escapes Galharth's lips. "Only you would say such of one counted among the wise. Perhaps it is a good thing that you did not join me on this journey, for I can see with clarity that you would have definately given Curunir a piece of your mind."

Glancing southwards, he presses his lips tightly in thought. "Do you know if anyone continued to dive upon wreck? Or was it left to its watery grave with my absence?"

There is a quiet rustle from the trees, and Maglind pops unexpectedly from the brush to the north. He offers a little wave, and attempts to edge away along the path.

Look before you cross the road.

Mia shakes her head, "Not a thing has been done in your absence, and I think that's probably for the best. How would you feel if you had gone on your trek, and arrive home only to find that the most exciting things had been discovered? I would be upset, personally. So it is all there awaiting you to take charge once more and drag the vessel from the depths of long-lost memories! Exciting, I know." She grins, letting out a soft chuckle. "And yet again you prove that you know me all too well, Galharth! But here is the caveat: I care not for so-called Wisdom. Even the wisest among us can prove to be blind; and those who claim otherwise are fools, themselves. The truly wise know that listening is what sets them apart from others. I mean, look at the Lady, for instance! Wisest of the Quendi, in my opinion! And why is that? Simply this: She respects her people, and has the sense to consider their concerns and thoughts carefully." She pauses but for a moment before adding, "And she listens to me, which is brilliant of her."

Mia raises an eyebrow at the slowly receeding Maglind, her lips pursing as she narrows her eyes. "HALT!" She cries out, "Exactly what do you think you are doing, Maglind? You look as if you are up to something, and if there are hijinks to be had in Lorien, I have to be involved! It isn't law, but it should be!"

"Alas, all this journey has proven is that I should remain home and the closest I should come to adventure is an association with one of your pranks." Galharth says, with a release of breath that brings an end to any further thoughts on the matter.

Opening his mouth to say something, his thoughts are sharply called to a halt with Mia's exclaimation. Turning his head sharply, he spies Maglind. "Well met!" The clothier calls out with a laugh, "Of all I might see, I see one I've kept company with for these long days. How goes your return, Warden?"

"I am trying to cross the road, Galharth, Lady," replies the warden quite timidly, retreating between two tree-trunks. "I do not engage in pranks. You may ask my brother."

Thinking twice, he emerges, a little bolder. "On second thought, don't ask him. -- But how do you fare?"

"No pranks?" Mia looks shocked. "Why not? Is there something wrong with you? Or did someone do something to you to make you averse to them?" She glances at Galharth, incredulous, "The poor thing.... do you think he knows what he is missing? Or is he joking?"

"I don't think he is joking," Galharth says with a glance towards the Warden, "If anyone could be more serious than I, it would be him." Shrugging his shoulders, he adds, "When I make mention that he should be promoted to Marchwarden for his deeds... his nature is quick to be revealed."

"And I am well Maglind. Still down due to the lack of sucess, but not giving up my curiosity." As the clothier speaks, he moves his gaze from the Warden, to Mia, and then southwards. "I'll be diving once more within the week if you would be interested in discovery."

"All the more reason to have fun," Mia responds, "If his deeds for the Order are so great. I have always been a firm believer that life must be a balance. Tempering duty with fun is as it should be."

"And you know that I would like nothing more than to see what you retrieve from the river. You can count on my cunning and muscle for the big event, though I may not be too much help in the water. I am... not that strong of a swimmer..."

"Your help is accepted, before you have a chance to change your mind. As far as I know, there were a number of crafters working along the shore setting up winces and what nots. Help was needed on cleaning the items brought up, and also with identifying them as well." Galharth says quickly, with a growing smile. "And of course for helping, you are free to take something from the wreck as a thank you."

"I do prank..." objects Maglind reluctantly, but then he grows quiet and betrays nothing more. "What do you think we will do with the wreck when it is done, Galharth? The Lawn isn't large enough to display it..."

"I hadn't considered that," the clothier says as his voice falls to a softer more thoughtful tone. "Perhaps we could rebuild it and have it sail towards the sea? Beyond that, I really don't know." Galharth shifts his feet slightly as he glances from the Warden to the Gardener. "What thoughts do you have on the matter? Should we raise the ship itself, or just the items left on board."

"Well," Mia begins, looking from Warden to Clothier and back again, "Rebuilding is... quite a feat to suggest, Galharth! I mean, we would have to take it to the shore, first, and honestly, I know of nobody in Lorien who is skilled in making the type of ship that would be sea-worthy." She shakes her head, "And I know not what we may find on board, nor if it would be... right to display it. I think, perhaps, that we should see what we have before we make any decisions of what to do with it."

Considering Mia's words carefully, the clothier raises a finger up to rest upon his chin. "I'll promise you this. If I do think to rebuild the ship, I'll make a trip to the Grey Haven's to consult with a true crafter of seaworthy vessels." Offering the Warden a quick glance he lifts a brow. "You'd join me, would you not, Maglind?"

"Yes," replies Maglind, crossing his arms hesitantly. "But must we travel so far? It is dangerous. Perhaps the guests Haldir has brought know something of ships."

Mia blinks rapidly, her eyebrows knitting together. "The Havens? First a trek to Isengard, now you want to wander ever farther?" She shakes her head, "I certainly won't be going. And so I must do all that I can to make sure that you do not consider rebuilding." A spark of interest ignites in her eyes, a sly smile on her lips. "You would be wise to reconsider now before I have time to think on this too much."

With a nod towards Maglind, "Haldir did mention something about our visitor having some interest. Perhaps you are right, Maglind." With that said, the clothier turns his gaze to the lady and smiles wickedly. "You would stop me? Perhaps you could help me find my cousin whilest seeking to learn the ways of the ship builders. I know well he didn't sail."

"Cousin?" Mia asks, "I didn't know you had one, let alone that he might be missing. But yes, I would stop you. The last friend of mine who wanted to visit the Havens never returned, and life has been disappointingly different ever since." She pauses, considering, and adds, "Well, aside from a few key events: the meeting of present company excluded from such a harsh judgement. Still, not a care in the world from I as to what goes on on the Western shore. I leave you to it. Or, more to the point, I wish you luck in making headway with such a trek. Until now, you have seen me work under threat of boredom. Imagine what would happen if inspired by loss of a friend."

"There is one thing," Maglind speaks up, and his fingers drum uncomfortably on his elbow. "You have heard of the sea-lust of the Sindar -- it is legendary. Should we chance it? I do not want to sail."

[Curanroch(#21232)] Hail freinds, How be youthis late?

Laughing softly, he glances from Warden to Gardener. "Sea lust? Not within my family. Perhaps to follow a spouse, but not voluntarily and not without complaint." With a tilt of his head, Galharth clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "I thought I had mentioned him to you, and indeed we speak of the same. Your friend, and my cousin. It is through him that I know of you and your past efforts."

Pausing as another calls out a greeting, the clothier lifts a hand towards the newcomer. "Well met friend!" he calls back. "T'is a lovely evening, and it is good to be home."

[Curanroch(#21232)] Yes it is, mind if i join you on this evening?

"I... I...." Mia stammers at this revelation, her head shaking in confusion. "But... your cousin is Vinyarod? How can it be that you have not revealed this to me sooner?"

She purses her lips tightly, nodding in a distracted manner to the new ellon. "Well met." She mutters, deep in thought, or shock, at what has been said.

"Wait!" She says, in dawning realization, "He did not sail?"

"I do not know, Galharth," says Maglind uneasily. "I would like us to return, and many doubts hold me back." He shifts on his feet, caught between path and tree, elves and newcomer.

Concern flickers in Galharth's eyes as he glances towards the Warden. "Doubts are not safely taken west. And do not worry. I jest in my thoughts to go to the havens for something so far fetched as rebuilding a ship." A sigh is drawn and released, "And certainly after the lack of success in Isengard, I see no reason to leave home any time soon."

To Mia, the clothier's expression softens. "You have his journals, do you not? Read some of the entries and ask yourself again, do you think Vinyarod Teliadgil sailed?" Taking a step southwards, he lifts a hand. "I need to check on the ship, perhaps we can speak later."

Mia is most definately distracted, though whether from revelation or something else, it would be hard to tell from expression alone. She is not, however, too far gone to recognize a chance to dismiss herself from the situation for awhile. She nods, then shakes her head... then nods again. "Well enough... until later, perhaps... and the ship." She nods a bit more determinedly and looks to Maglind with a still-bobbing head, and then to Galharth. "Of course, the journals. And the ship, it will be great. And things.... but of course, I must be going as well. The gardens.... Until then..."

And she wanders off. In the wrong direction.

Murmuring to himself, Maglind waves a hand and disappears into the forest. Something like "Mar Vanwa Tyalieva" is suspiciously present in his puzzled words.