================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Nighttime < About 10:58 PM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 37 Firith <Fading>
Moon phase: First Quarter <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: Mon Aug 27 11:59:29 2007
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Garden of the Silver Lights
You stand in the middle of a luscious garden filled with all colors and varieties of plants and flowers, whose sweet scent permeates the air. There are many hummingbirds here flying among the bushes, and even a few scarlet kirinki -- tiny Eressean finches with high piping vooices -- are fluttering here and there among the flowers. The garden is walled, for the most part, by a tall green hedge; a number of tall, sturdy wooden trellises on which grow a type of vine adorned with large white flowers encloses the rest.

No trees grow here, and lanterns of different sizes and shapes hang from cunningly wrought sconces, their serene silver light giving a calm peace to the garden, illuminating the small benches that are set amongst the flowerbeds. To the west, grassy steps lead up the silver gates which provide the only obvious exit from the garden. There is a small brook here flowing down from the fountain at the top of the hill, and then running along the curve of the hill and disappearing into a deep green hollow to the east. A long flight of steps leads downward.

Contents:
Galharth
Calsir
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Brilliant stars twinkle in a dark evening sky. Anor is long retired, and the night animals fill the air, trees, and land, sending forth a soft chattering as they call to themselfs during their nighttime rituals. A cool wind blows from the north east, sending golden leaves fluttering in the canopy overhead. Song is growing softer, blending magically with the sound of the living wood.

Wandering the wood, Galharth moves aimlessly as if his cane guildes his step. As he enters the Garden of Silver lights, the ellon pauses and peers about the garden. Looking east towards the glade he knows to hold the Lady's mirror, the Tailor frowns.

The gardens are not empty however, a shadowed figure might be able to be seen if one was looking, laying flat on her back beside the brook. Her arms were crooked under her head, making a makeshift pillow, while golden curls spread out contrasting witth the green grasses. Calsir, Scholar and Dancer, stares upwards, a smile playing against her lips brightening her mein. No sounds does this elleth utter, perhaps in difference to the musical melodies of the wood, save for the slow even breaths that she takes. Nearby is a stack of papers, the edges of the top page smudged by ink prints, the swirls and loops of someone's fingers readily visible. On the paper itself notes and shapes form to come together in melody.

Turning towards a wooden trellis that stands near the brook, the Tailor starts forth, only to stop after a few paces. Spying Calsir reclined near the water, Galharth sighs softly. "Well met, Calsir," he says as he starts forth once more towards the trellis and the seat it offers. "It seems a perfect place to enjoy yet another perfect eve." He comments as he hobbles forward.

Reaching the trellis, and the bench that sits before it, the Clothier lowers himself into a seated position. Glancing towards the Scholar, he nods towards the stack of paper, and asks, "Are you writing song this eve?"

"Being positively lazy these days." Calsir replies, her blue eyes not wavering from their heavenward gaze. "I should be working on this song, will be one that I turn over to the Master of my guild." Finally turning, where she is laying on her stomach heedless of any grass stains or wet spots that might appaear upon her gown, she fixes her gaze upon Galharth. "Is a history of the Sindar, highlighting some of the more prominent members." Folding her hands against the ground, her weight supported by her elbows, Calsir looks very much like a young girl rather then an elleth going into her first millenia. "However much of the history is tragic, and on such a night I find it difficult to dwell on past tragidies."

Her eyes turn briefly toward the Tailor's cane, her head cocked just slightly to her left. "It seems that you are getting around a bit easier then before. Has there been any word as to when you will be able to work on strengthening your leg so as to lay down the cane?"

"Is it a commissioned project?" Galharth asks curiously, "A history of the Sindar is massive indeed, dating back over the ages. How does one determine who's prominent and who's not?" As he asks he seems to grow quiet as he considers the elleth's comment on tragic. Glancing towards the entrance to the glade that holds the Lady's Mirror once more, he sighs softly. "Perhaps for novelty, you could focus upon the more pleasant aspects of the history."

Glancing back towards Calsir, he shakes his head. "I am indeed getting around better, but I think more because I've learned to move better with the cane, rather than any improvement with the leg. I will need time with the healers to determine what needs to be done to return to full strength."

"Not a commission no, just my pet project that I have been working on since I was inducted into the Glirdain as a Learner." Bringing her hands up to cup her chin, Calsir rests her head upon said hands. Her eyes cut toward the leafs of paper, a sudden out rush of air is given between her lips, fluttering stray hair up and off her face. "Prominent in my mind in any event, I have selected some of my favorite people in history." Looking toward Galharth, even white teeth are flashed as she smiles widely. "I imagine it must be the same for the crafters, something that one crafts that they feel deeply for will inevitably turn out better then something they are crafting that they care nothing about?" The slight lift at the end of her remark turns it into a question rather then simply a statement. "I am afraid I have no experiance with such injuries. However, I do know that with strains and even breaks can be made worse then they are by neglecting to remember appointments with healers."

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, he looks away towards the hedge on the opposite side of the Garden. "I'd like to think that we crafters put such effort into all that we do as most of what we make lasts hundreds of years or longer. Poor workmanship can haunt a crafter, as I'm sure it would a Bard." Galharth says as he turns his gaze back to the Scholar

A sad smile flickers on the ellon's lips. "I've not neglected any appointments. In fact, I've searched out Ostiel to help over and above what was needed. I'll work itself out, perhaps with a little time."

"As you relax whilst surrounded by your project, I suppose I am doing the same." The clothier says as he sifts his position on the bench. "Lostiriel and I have been speaking with various house members to gather information for an updated book on the Great Houses of Lothlorien. It's a project for the Royal Court, one that will be helpful for all I think."

"I was not trying to imply that they did not put effort into some projects. Only that no matter who is doing the work, one can usually tell when something was made for function, or made for the love of it. Atleast that is how it is in the performing arts." In one fluid motion Calsir twists from her flat position to sitting upright. Her skirts pool about her, but the occassional outline suggests she is sitting cross-legged, her hands falling to the ground beside her. "I can always tell when a Student, specializing in something such as languages or history, writes a poem due to an assignment rather then any real interest in putting their history to rhyme. While the poem can be technically perfect, it lacks..the passion needed to make a poem great."

"Perhaps time is all that is needed." Calsir murmurs her agreement, her hands idly running over the lush grass. She falls silent, the call of a bird perhaps an owl fills the void that her voice leaves. Though at the mention of the book her normal enthusiasm returns, and she leans inward, toward the Tailor. "Information is always helpful. Especially with such history as the Great Houses, they are such an interesting topic.. Tell me, what kind of information do you seek?"

Sitting silently as Calsir begins to speak, he lets much of her comments, or perhaps better said, facts stated, pass without response. Shifting again, Galharth turns more to face the now seated Scholar. "For the moment, basic information, such as symbols, colors, various policies, history, and that sort." the Tailor says with a smile. "Some hold interest in their house, while others are members yet without real attachment. So far, this has been an interesting project."

"It is sad that not all are attached to their houses. The history and family ties that come with housal affairs make for rewarding and rich lives." Calsir's face is animated, her brows raised as she speaks. "For instance, the symbols of each house represent something, its not just for show. If more were informed on their houses' tradition and customs, then more would feel more kinship with their housemates rather then just floating adrift in a sea of edhill."

"But does one have to be associated with house affairs to still enjoy family and their family history?" Galharth asks, with a small rise to the corner of his mouth. "How deep does one have to emerse themselves in politices to gain rewards from their house?"

Chuckling softly, the Tailor reaches out a hand to rub his leg to ease some unmentioned ache. "It seems that most we've talked to have an interest in their house, yet remain away from any management or politices that come with it. All seem happy and satisfied."

Rosy lips part as if to say something, yet close as her brows knit in thought. "Well no, one can enjoy family without being associated with a house or intertwined with housal activities." Calsir's words were slow, the fluidity unbroken however ponderous her tones was. "However the history of the house, often as not, ties in to one's own history and ancestors." Absently her fingers thrums against the ground as she speaks. "When one is married into a house, then that just opens more history.

"As far as housal politics and management, in any organization: be it familial or professional, management is needed." A wry smile is offered with her own answering laughter. "Though admittedly sometimes this management leads to ill-feelings. Such is the way it is with diverse beings that each have their own hopes, dreams, and fears." Blue eyes grow hooded as the Scholar leans back, tipping her face upwards toward the heavens again.

"I can't say I agree with your thinking, but then, that's not my objective. As I've said, we seek to gather up information to create a reference." Galharth says with a shrug. Pursing his lips tightly, he shifts his gaze to the lawn, and a moment passes before he speaks again. "An yet," he says pausing as he turns to look upon the elleth, "Your mention that sometimes management of a house leads to ill-feelings, why is this? And why would this be allowed? Certainly anything that creates internal struggle defeats the unity that a house represents."

"It is not that it is allowed." Spreading her hands in front of her, then bringing the tips of her fingers together in a thoughtful pose, Calsir continues. "More its unavoidable. Misunderstandings happen, we are not an infalliable race. Whenever two or more gather on a regular basis there is going to be some ill feelings at some point." Sweeping her curls back over her shoulder, so that they hang out of the way, the Scholar gives the Tailor a quirk of the brow. "Unless you know of someone who has lived their whole lives without a single quarrel, not one hurt feeling. If you do then I will gladly re-think my position. But no, I do not think that intentional malice is permitted, nor should ever be permitted."

"As it is not my objective to agree or disagree with your thinking, it is also not my objective to sway your thinking." Galharth says with a frown. "Perhaps I should speak with Niinaeth, or perhaps Lady Galadriel, for clarification on the Great Houses position within the overall management of the Wood."

Taking a deep breath and offering a smile, "I certainly have much to look into, and for that I thank you."

"Indeed. Niinaeth will have more information then I can give." Standing, retrieving her pages of work mid-rise, Calsir makes some effort and ridding her skirts of various debris. "All I might offer is mere opinion on management. However, I was speaking of inter-house management, rather then management of the entire wood. That would be pretentious." With that said, Calsir offers a parting smile. "However, I must go. I promised myself that I would put in more of an effort in this work, perhaps a place that is not so open to the night air will help me concentrate."