================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:47 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 43 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: Full <VISIBLE>
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 Aug 08 09:15:47 2007
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Lawn
Here the stairway through the mellyrn meets the top of a mighty hill, opening out into the middle of a great lawn filled with blue and yellow flowers. At the center of the lawn stands a great shimmering fountain which falls into a basin of silver. From the basin flows a white stream of water out into a small brook, which then trickles away down the hill. Further north there stands a mallorn tree of such magnificent height that it seems to reach even to the clouds. A path paved with white pebbles curves around the hilltop, leading west and east from the stairs.

Contents:
Galharth
Haldir
Galadriel
Mia
Mithsul
Niinaeth

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A dark sky speckled with brilliant white stars hangs as a tapestry over the elven realm of Lothlorien. Within the autumn canopy high above, delicate fireflies dance amongst the golden leaves of the Mellyrn. A cool breeze blows from the northwest, bringing forth a promise of coming winter. As the midnight hour rings over the land, song within the wood turns softer as if inspiring rest.

Wandering the Lawn, Galharth pauses at the fountain to peer into the gently moving water. Both the trees and the sky reflect from its surface, providing a mirrored scene to enjoy.

Laying beside the small brook, one arm crooked back to pillow his head, Mithsul studies the night sky through widened green eyes. The arm not supporting his dark curls dangles lazily in the brook, the tips of his fingers wading in the cooled waters. Laying flat, ankles crossed the newest Sentinel breathes in the scent of the evening, allowing this breath to escape with just a small almost satisfied sigh. Movement catches his attention, and the ellon raises to a reclining position, supported by his elbows. "Greetings Galharth. Perhaps just the edhel I wish to speak with most." A boyish grin splits Mithsuls

Laying beside the small brook, one arm crooked back to pillow his head, Mithsul studies the night sky through widened green eyes. The arm not supporting his dark curls dangles lazily in the brook, the tips of his fingers wading in the cooled waters. Laying flat, ankles crossed the newest Sentinel breathes in the scent of the evening, allowing this breath to escape with just a small almost satisfied sigh. Movement catches his attention, and the ellon raises to a reclining position, supported by his elbows. "Greetings Galharth. Perhaps just the edhel I wish to speak with most." A boyish grin splits Mithsuls face.

Deepest, darkest night it may be, and yet the woods are alive with activity even now! Shapes move in and out of shadow, ghostly images of quendi passing by in the inky pools not touched by moonlight.

One such figure breaks free of the velvet night, walking towards the fountain and the familiar figure beside it. Her voice is soft as she calls out her greeting, as if afraid that a loud voice might break the silence too harshly, a change for the usually boisterous gardener.

"Well met, Galharth?" Mia querries.

While one walks, one sits perched on a bough quietly watching Galharth. Quiet however is the optional word as a soft laugh escapes Niinaeth lips, "Well this is interesting. At long last there is something which draws you from the ship?" Slowy she pulls her legs from the bough and drops to the ground near him a smile quick to her lips at the approach of Mia, "Trouble is the wake I fear, the two of you gathered in one place.."

A little bit of starlight is broken off from the sky in the figure of the Lady Galadriel, approaching the scene from the direction of the Great Tree. Her purpose cannot be told, but her gait is unhurried.

Looking over his shoulder, following the path of the stream, the clothier sets his gaze upon Mithsul. "Ah, well met! If you did not hear me when it occured, let me say again, congratulations on your induction into the Guard."

As Galharth opens his mouth to say more to the new Sentinel, another voice draws his attention. "Mia?" he replies as he turns towards the Lady's Companion. "Are you alright?" Concern is evident within his voice and he turns to take a step towards the lady. "I've never actually known you to be, so.... reserved."

The next voice heard draws a furrowed brow from the crafter. "Have you not heard? Diving is suspended for a time, until matters," he pauses to cough lightly before continuing, " until matters are resolved." The Ministers last comment draws a slight smile, and he glances towards Mia. With mouth wide open, his words fail to appear as he catchs sight of Galadriel. Clamping his mouth shut, he glances at the others one after the other as he speaks. "The Lady is up and about late, is she not?"

Thorhur, climbing the steps gracefully, looks quite calm as he briskly walks onto the lawn. When he sees the already large group present, he stops and nods to all present. "Well met my friends. My, I did not realize that so many would be up this late."

Mia shakes her head, "No trouble will you get from me, not for some time...." She pauses, as if considering, then adds, "Well, not involving Galharth. He has had enough excitement for a lifetime, I am sure, and rest is what is needed now." She looks to Nii with a hint of exasperation. "But will he listen? No... In the healer's telain he is supposed to be, and yet he has spent more time with his ship, and now I find him here. Perhaps he is more hale than I ever imagined." She grins now, almost laughing, "Or foolhardy."

Mithsul's comment has not gone unnoticed, and Mia inclines her head towards the reclining warrior. "You are more popular as each day passes, with so many seeking your advice and instruction. Why, someone would almost think that you were someone important in Lorien, Galharth!"

A chuckle is issued at Mia's remarks, "While I am no healer, far from it, I would imagine a bit of starlight would not over tax one's body. Though perhaps I should not mention what other activities I have observed Galharth doing that might be concidered a bit more, taxing, then simple fountain gazing." Turning his gaze toward the Tailor, and lifting himself up with ease to a sitting position, Mithsul changed his tones to that of one concerned. "However if you are indeed in need of rest my request can wait. It is not something that is overly important and imminiently needed." A nod of greeting is issued to the elleth of his house, "Niinaeth.." A tilt of his head is offered by way of greeting toward Thorhur.

The Lady, now within earshot, looks between those speaking but her expression reveals little. "Good evening.." she says simply, her gaze lingering upon her Minister for a few moments.

"Perhaps both Mia, though I must admit he is rather handy at hoisting ellons with a winch." Niinaeth simply smiles softly at Galharth and reaching outward to pat his arm, "You are listening to the healers I assume? Would could not do much worse than get their anger up. Perhaps short of angering a badger." Her head comes around at well known voice and she drops her head slightly to Galadriel, "Good evening M'Lady."

Thorhur moves in closer to the group. His eyes scan the faces of everyone there. His eyes come to rest on Galharth. "How are you feeling Galharth?" he asks casually, then as an afterthought, he adds, "So how is everyone this night?"

Offering Thorhur a nod, Galharth returns the Sentinel's greeting. "And well met to you as well, Sentinel. Certainly these woods are strange and unpredictable. One never knows what to expect from moment to moment."

As Mia speaks, he turns towards her voice. Temper flashes in his eyes, and a frown appears. "Would you have me lay among the ill reflecting upon the actions taken over the past weeks? Perhaps rather than a shadow of guilt, I could burn with despair? Certainly you can't confuse importance with the subject of gossip and strange glances. You know me, it's better that I keep myself occupied and focused on something of use. Certainly " Lowering his head, as if seeking to contain further words, he mutters softly as if not quite wanting to be heard, "Which is why Maglind and I will be going to retrieve the remaining pieces of the catapult in a day's time."

Turning to Mithsul, his brow rises and his frown fades. "Nay, ask away, never hesitate for idle hands lead to discontent, and I for one refuse to be so." Pressing his lips tightly, the Tailor glances to the stairs as if expecting someone, and after the moment passes and no one appears, he glances back to the new Sentinel, "Perhaps we can speak privately later. Maglind and I have something to request of you as well."

"Well met, Lady," he says warmly, offering a smile. Pausing he glances from Galadriel to Niinaeth, as if noting the Lady's gaze.

To the Minister he chuckles softly. "I fear the Winch has scarred poor Maglind for life. Myself? I am well." Offering his last words openly, and directed to no one in particular.

Mia seems unperturbed by Galharth's response, though her response is, of it's own accord, sarcastically delivered. "Far be it for me to know a thing of the fea, nor of the frustrations of inaction." She gives a slight upward roll to her eyes, accompanied by a deep sigh. "My words and advice mean nothing if he who receives it decides not to listen, and if I have learned anything of late, it is that a certain someone is, perhaps, more stubborn than even I could hope to be. When confronted by such, what choice do I have but to humor you and allow you to possibly do more damage than good..." A pause, but only a pause. "Besides chide you at every chance that get? It's my duty as a healer." She shrugs, nonchallantly, but she is anything but, "You had me worried. If you would rather me not, then forget that it happened. I am sure I can make a joke soon enough to cover the uncomfortable situation of me showing signs of compassion."

Galharth's anger brings a mild look of determination to the Ministers face and she moves quickly to his side. One small hand placed on his shoulder the other held outward to the others gathered, "Perhaps it is best to leave this subject at rest for the time being. We can not know the trouble which lies with the ship, dicussion shall not make a diffence. It is in the Lady's hand now, mayhap we should let her speak."

Brows raise over his eyes, slashing almost violently black against white, as Mithsul cocks his head to the left. "Of course Galharth, I can speak privately whenever you get ready to divulge what it is you need. However, what I need to request from you is not one that needs privacy to speak. I was hoping to inquire of your services a new tunic, one a bit more formal then that of which I normally wear." A sweep of his arm across his rather plain green tunic with brown leggings gives emphasis on his normal attire. Standing as the others greeted Galadriel, Mithsul tips his head towards her as well in greeting, "Good evening My Lady, I trust all is well with you?"

Galadriel nods at Niinaeth and to the rest of those that great her, then she fixes her gaze upon the tailor. You might detect that she wishes to speak without disruption.

So silent her arrival, so sombre her mood, that only now does Mia look to the Lady and, with eyes wide, stop speaking immediately. Bright spots of color rise in her cheeks, and it is with shifting and silence that she nods a greeting to Galadriel, her verbal spar with Galharth forgotten.

For the moment.

Silently Thorhur sits on the grass, and spreading his legs out looks expectantly at the Lady Galadriel, ready to listen to whatever she has to say.

"I listen Mia," Galharth says softly, tilting his head as he offers a sad pleading look for understanding. "And from your advice, I know you do your duties proud." Offering a boyish smile, not unlike the one issued by Rhibi in the worst of times, he adds, "I'm just trying to keep ahead of the thoughts and feelings brought forth before I drown as quickly as if I was held firmly under water."

Nodding to Niinaeth, his expression turns to one of gratitude. "Well spoken, Minister. Let us dwell not on that which lays in the hands of others."

Turning his head towards the new Sentinal, the Tailor nods before lifting a hand to cover his mouth as if deep in thought. When his hand drops to his side, he says, "A tunic? I've several near completion that I'm sure can be adjusted to your exact size. We do try to keep ahead of the Order's needs. Lostiriel herself will be by this day to obtain a set of her own for an upcoming outting. Perhaps I can have Maglind stop by while we get your clothing sorted out.

Then, falling silent, his gaze turns towards Galadriel, and confusion flickers briefly over his expression, "Lady? Is there something you wish of me?"

Without hesitation, Niinaeth steps away from the tailor remaining silent. The look from Galadriel she knows all to well.

Dipping his head in silent consent toward Galharth, though an expression that races across his features suggest he has something else he too would like to say. He, too, turns his gaze toward Galadriel expectantly.

The Lady of the Golden Wood holds her gaze steady upon Galharth. Her expression is somber, but not severe. "I do wish something of you, Galharth," her voice seems heavy in the quiet night and even the bubbling of the fountain seems to recede as she speaks.

"This season has brought you many trials, brother. I can see that they weigh heavily upon your heart and occupy your mind." Her expression is pained and melancholy. "For this, I bear no small share of the guilt, but it is you that I worry for. I worry about whether you can still manage such a heavy workload as clothier?" A delicate breeze stirs chimes somewhere in the distance and stirs the loose locks that frame Galadriel's face. She clutches a finely made handkercheif in one hand.

Mia looks from the Lady to Galharth with bated breath, concern easily traced in her eyes, while she awaits the tailor's response.

Concern flickers in the clothier's eyes "I manage, lest someone tells me otherwise, I've heard no complaints." Galharth quickly says as he takes a step towards the Lady. Glancing at each of the edhel upon the lawn with suspicion. "If it's been my recent absence, I assure you, I'm nearly caught up with all mendings, and the creation of all new outfits requested. Only few things remain undone and they were never mentioned to be items of urgency."

Both hands come upward to cover her face, an attempt to hide the corners of her lip which twitch slightly upward and the sparkle in her. One can never be certain with the Lady, yet this brings to mind a former discussion of her own with her concerning her own abilities in work.

Galadriel nods slowly, considering carefully Galharth's words and the emotion behind them. Her eyes narrow slightly and she continues, "And your relationships in the Gwaith-i-Thein? You are able to enjoy a congenial relationship and lend aid to the apprentices when needed." She rubs the edges of the kercheif between her fingers, ever aware of its presence.

"My Lady? All within the crafters work well, united as a single voice to bring forth not only service to all, but to do so with great beauty. There are no apprentices that I have turned away. As you well know the Gwaith-Thein is open, friendly, and most assuredly active within the wood." Pausing a moment, he presses his lips tightly for a moment, before adding, "We do have our moments between the Foresters and the Carpenters, but in the end the needs of our people is provided for."

Back and forth.

And back and forth.

And back and forth.

Until the Lady turns her eyes on each person present, that is, at which point Mia stops looking from clothier to the lovely mistress of lore and nods at Galharth's words.

Dropping her hands from her face, Niinaeth simply bites her lip and nods at Galharth's words. Any attempt from her to speak would certain ruin the moment instead she chooses to begin pacing a bit.

Thorhur looks at Galharth, and then nods slowly. He does not speak, he just looks anxiously from Galharth to Galadriel, awaiting what will happen next.

Galadriel seems satisfied by the silent response so she returns her gaze to Galharth. She reaches out a hand to touch him on the left shoulder and narrows her eyes a little bit. Then, her hand travelling down his arm, she takes his hand and lifts it, intertwining her fingers with his so that both their hands rest in the air at chest height.

"Beauty and strength you have leant to my people, Galharth. Forgive my cruelty in these questions, for the answers I knew already. Perhaps I feared that you may not. Or knew and did not believe. Confidence and pride in one's work are treasures, and I assure you that I value them highly. And so I have this for you."

She lifts her other hand, the one with the handkercheif and turns it over, unclenching her fist so that the sides of the linen fall and reveal a silver ring in her palm. She then releases her grip upon his hand and turns it palm up well. She holds the ring up for all to see. "Behold the mark of a Master of the Gwaith-I-Thein. And let the word be spread through this Wood that Galharth of Lorien now wears it." She places the ring in his palm and closes his fingers over it. At last, she is smiling.

Mithsul grins again as his eyes behold the silver ring, a mark of a Master. "None more deserving of such an honor, then someone who has toiled so long perfecting his craft." The sentinel speaks said words in offer of congratulatory tones.

Mia claps her hands together, a smile breaking though her worried countenance. "Never have I known you to make a bad decision, Galadriel," Mia states, "But this one was truly inspired!" She then turns to the clothier, her hands finding an edge of her skirt as she dips into a curtsey. "And it would seem I spoke too soon: Indeed, you are someone of import in Lothlorien, more so than you have proven yourself to be in recent months."

Thorhur, looking at first at the ring then at Galharth, nods and says, "I truly respect you Galharth. Your accomplishments are great and you truly deserve such a gift."

The warmth of the silver in his hand brings forth a sparkle within the ellon's eyes, and he looks to the lady, before looking down as his hand opens to reveal the ring. "I..." he begins, before falling silent. A tear drops from the corner of his eye and he looks up towards the Lady once more. "I know not what to say." He finally says in a voice choked with emotion. "With so much talent within this wood, I can not express the honor you've bestowed upon me."

With his eyes still glimmering with unshead tears, the Tailor turns to Mia, "Important?" he snorts softly, "Naw, more happily set with work to keep me occupied for many a year."

Smiling to Mithsul and Thorhur, his smile brightens, "Thank you."

Glancing back to Galadriel, he offers her the brightest smile of all, "I will do you proud, I swear it."

Galadriel returns Galharth's smile, then bows her head and offers him a delicate curtsey. "I have no doubt, dear friend." She then fades slightly, allowing the tailor's friends to gather about him.

Mithsul lays back down in much the same position as he started in, staring thoughtfully up at the sky. His leafy eyes grow distant, perhaps he is trying to count the pinpoints of light that illuminates the lawn.

Thorhur, giving one last glance at Galharth and smiling, stands up slowly. Yawning he turns to those remaining and says, "Farewell, for I feel as if I need some wine at the Mar Vanwa Tyalieva." So saying, he turns and bounds down the steps on his way to the Mar.