================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Before Dawn < About 4:33 AM >
IC date is: 2 Firith <Fading>
Moon phase: Full <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 15 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3039>
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RL time: Dec 08 14:02 2006
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Rose Garden
You stand in a small rose garden dazzled in white, red, and yellow. Placed in an circular pattern about the garden, a walkway made up of small, uplifted ceramic tiles form rings of walking space surrounding a large golden mallorn planted in the center. Shade from its limbs splay outward over this walkspace to provide for a pleasant atmosphere. Here and there, benches, one with a lamp rising up out of the ground next to it, are placed for guests to enjoy the shade and the scenery.

To the south, a tall hedge hides the entrance to the shaded lawn. East, among a gnarly set of old oak trees, a small path leads to the Apothecary, while to the North another path leads to the Northern Gardens. To the West, a gate leads out to the Golden Roadway. Lastly, to the side, sparkling beneath a silver arch, a set of stairs can be seen leading to a talan up above. Reaching out to the bright sun, the flowers are open in full bloom.

Participants:
Arahisie
Galharth
Ostiel
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Grey. Perhaps to some, the neutrality of that color is undesirable, uninspiring, and melancholy to the eye. Perhaps it is, but here in Lothlorien, the misty sky lends a certain air of tranquility to the Wood, a delicate hue that solemns and does not shake. The silver mallorns shed their sparkling light against the matte painting above, but they are only but a shade or two brighter than grey. However...the Rose Garden has no trouble standing out from the black and whites. Indeed the red, white and yellow roses tilt their lovely faces upwards, searching for any sign of Anor and her glorious light. But the clouds reign supreme this day, and they are to be disappointed.

The sky reflects his mood. As Galharth enters the Rose Garden, he looks down at the back of his hand to inspect the now healed squirrel bite. Pausing before the first bright blossom he encounters, he pauses and inhales deeply. "Such beauty," he comments softly of the deep red blossom. "And your scent compares to your appearance." Looking up, he gazes over the garden, and from his expression, it seems as if what had ailed him was now passing.

From the northern path a solatary elf make his way slowly though the garden, his eyes cast skyward as he make his way along.

"One such bloom is just as lovely as a multitude," a gentle, feminine voice comments unobtrusively from the stairs leading up to the healing talan, although, it appears Ostiel is coming down, not ascending. Smoothing down the wispy fall that is her hair, the Attendant reaches the ground. Her rich red skirt and tunic, and the sparkling of green eyes, add yet another glowing presence to the garden. Silently, she approaches the ellon.

Glancing up to the sound of a voice, Galharth smiles. "And yet the multitude can not compare to the loveliness of an elleth such as you. Well met Ostiel." The clothier says warmly. Abandoning his inspection of the blossoms, the ellon nears the tree to watch the Attendant's final steps to the ground. "How do you fare this autumn day?"

A soft chuckles can be hear coming from the approaching elf, Arahisie smiles as he near, "You diffiently speak the truth there mellon."

Gracefully Ostiel flushes as she walks, cheeks turning a girlish shade of pink. "Thank you. I have never met an ellon so generous with compliments as yourself, Galharth," she points out with a smile, even as her eyes turn to Arahisie. "Well met." It is difficult to tell whether she speaks to one or both. Long fingers fondle a red rose, deftly removing a hungry grub from it's inner petals. "I am well, and off to dine with my uncle. He has returned from a patrol, and desires to speak with me." That would explain the unusually rich style of dress.

"I assure you, it is not generosity," the clothier says with a humble bow of his head, "but more an honest narration of that which I see." With his words said, he turns and lifts his hand in geeting to another. "Well met, friend." Galharth says in a friendly manner, towards the Herald.

Arahisie smiles and says, "I don't believe it is the clothes you you wear that he speaks of."

Ostiel's cheeks now match her dress, and with a subtle clearing of the throat she walks a few paces away. Finding a settlement of common herbs, the healer lays the grub onto one of the plant's green leaves. It curls up defiantly. She shrugs, and moves back to her companions, giving the creature some space. "And yourselves, how do you fare? How is your bite, Galharth?" Even as she speaks, Ostiel is already moving to examine his hand.

As the Attendant makes mention of his hand, the Clothier lifts his right hand. "It healed, with many thanks to the talents of this Wood's healers." he says with a sincere smile. "It delayed my work a few days, as I could take no chance to stain anything under constructions." With a shrug of he shoulders he looks down to the back of his hand. "Especially the wedding clothing of Curulomion and his lady."

Pausing a moment to allow the Attendant to examine his hand he looks into her fact. "Speaking of which, they both mentioned attending the Baltic Congress this year. Will you be attending as well?"

Arahisie smiles though he does not interupt the converstaion, listing close though to hear Ostiels answer

"Aye," Ostiel murmurs thoughtfully, letting her white fingers ghost lightly over Galharth's skin, "The flesh is smooth and cool." At the mention of the Bardic Congress, her mood darkens just slightly. She shivers, as if a cold breeze has blown in. "I should hope so. My ada and naneth both are going, for they are bards, and fine ones. I wish to travel with them, as my brother is sailing shortly." The Cuigrithweg takes a deep breath, and smiles faintly. "We wish to say goodbye, if only for a time." She smoothes down her tunic, and puts it to the back of her mind. "The Congresses are always a delight, though I have not been to many outside of our wood."

The Attendant's words give the Clothier pause. When he finally speaks, his words are presented without emotion. "I am offer condolences and a wish for a smooth voyage, at the news that your brother has decided to sail. Even the shortest of time parted will bring grief, and yet for him I suspect it will bring him joy and comfort," With his words spoken, a half smile is presented.

"I myself have been to no Congresses outside the wood, but at this time, I've not decided if I shall attend. I've much to do to prepare the wedding wardrobe for Curulomion and his lady." Glancing between Arahisie and Ostiel, he smiles. "Speaking of which, I've much to do, so if you will forgive me, I must depart."

With that, Galharth turns and departs the garden, hurrying off to complete his tasks.

Arahisie says softly, "I believe the congress would be good for your Ostiel.."

"Thank you, and goodbye." Ostiel waves to Galharth's disappearing figure, then turns to Arahisie with a contemplative frown. "Aye, dear friend, I imagine it would. I imagine it would." She says no more, but attempts once again to fix her hair, which has become unruly again. It is known to some that this particular uncle is only happy with formality.

Arahisie smiles and says, "You hair looks very nice Ostiel. If this uncle you visit can't take you as your are that is his problem not yours.

Surprise comes over Ostiel's face, and she pauses in a rather comical position, both long arms above her head and eyebrow's raised. Then, quietly, she begins to laugh. The hands drop. "You are right, of course. No doubt he wishes to berate me about my unmarried state, as he has since I turned 500. Now he is more desperate though, for 3000 is not far away."

Arahisie chuckles and says, "If he does that, point him to my unmarried status." He grins, "I am much older then you.."

"Aye," Ostiel giggles, sorrow forgotten, cheeks highly colored with mirth. "You are indeed older than I, although you must be young in your mind, for we think much alike." She dances away under the pretense of examining more roses, gleefully anticipating retaliation.

Arahisie grins and says, "We are only as old as we let ourselves get."

Seeing that none is coming, Ostiel moves a bit closer. "That is also true. My uncle has allowed himself to get very, very old. But truly," she smiles fondly, "He does care for me, or else he wouldn't go to so much trouble for my sake. I recall a few stammering, blushing ellon that he attempted to push in my direction."

Arahisie chuckles and says, "Just tell them that when love comes you will follow your heart, these things can't be rushed.

"I did, and they were quite happy to hear it. But, alas, the time approaches." Ostiel does a final smoothing of her velvet tunic, and inhales deeply of the sweet, garden scent. "I must off to supper. Does this look alright in the back?" She turns, demonstrating a slightly crooked belt but perfectly straight skirt.

Arahisie smiles and says, "Take the lady's blessing with you then." having not really had his position announced as of yet he smiles secretly.

"Thank you. I will speak with you later." Assuming that her clothing must indeed be straight, Ostiel glides off toward the Raav talan.