================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 1:36 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 40 Echuir <Stirring>
Moon phase: Waning Gibbous <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: Tue Oct 09 18:32:12 2007
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Library
The Scribe's Chamber (in Sindarin: Sammath Teithith)
A moderately sized talan for Lorien's scribe and that serves as the Galadhrim's "library". The chamber looks smaller than it really is, however, due all the furniture that fills the space! The center of the room is dominated by a large table that is surrounded by several chairs, and except for an open window, a partition, and a couple small pieces of furniture, all the wall space is filled by shelving. In one corner, a small writing desk has been placed.

Contents:
Galharth
Lostiriel
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Midnight has drawn it's shadowy darkness across the earth, and all seems sleepily quiet, save for the gusts of wind that hint at more than just pleasant weather to come. Above, the sky is dark with heavy clouds drifting across the sky, momentarily blocking out the light of the stars as they pass. And yet the stars still shine, their light clear and bright on this dark, windy night, silvering patches of the bleak clouds like white sails on dark ships sailing across a black ocean.

Head lowered over a book spreak out before her, Lostiriel's eyes are cast over the pages, a candle flickering near her elbow. And yet her attention is clearly not being held by the words before her, for her attention soon turns to the flickering light and it's interplay with the shadows upon the walls. Then, eyes lifting, she turns to the open window and watches the clouds sail across the bright stars above.

Silken fabric rustles softly in the wind, as the Tailor's robes flutter like the leaves in the treetop canopies overhead. With his carved staff, Galharth enters the library as would an imagine stepping from the pages of history. "The evening sky is quite remarkable," the crafter says softly as he approaches the Courier. "But certainly watching it will not help you complete whatever work you approach right now."

"Yes, you are right, of course. But the beauty of the sky above rivals even the beauty of the words that I read, for it is not work, but pleasure, that I find here. And yet it pales in comparison to the loveliness etched in the stars and sky," Lostiriel answers, turning her eyes to Galharth. She stretches in her chair, pushing the book back, and asks, "And what is it that has brought you here on so gusty a night?"

"The ship," Galharth says flatly as he moves towards a row of books. Lifting a hand he points a finger at the tomes and lightly sweeps the pad over the ancient works. "I can not get it from my mind." Glancing over his shoulder, he pauses. "And I will hear no lectures this eve," the Tailor adds firmly. "I wonder why it was there, who it was that sailed it, and how it came to lay on the bottom of the river."

Looking back to the tomes, he pauses his search and lightly taps the spine of a book. Reaching forth he withdraws the reference from the shelf. Turning with book in hand, he moves slowly and with the help of his staff, towards the table. "I suppose I'm fixed upon discovery. There must be an answer somewhere."

Seemingly ready to respond, Lostiriel's lips close as Galharth speaks about lectures. Irritation flickers for only a moment in her eyes, and she shuts the book before her a bit harder than necessary. And so for a time she does not answer him at all, but rather listens to the raging winds outside. When she does speak, she does so quietly. "I thought that we had moved past all that before, and so lectures are hardly needed. Anyway, Galharth, since you remain so fascinated on this subject, I wish to inquire as to why. Is it just a matter of personal curiousity, or is there some other reason that you remain so fixed upon discovery?" Whatever irritation briefly registered across her face has dissipated, and a true desire to know his reasoning has replaced it.

Looking up from turning pages as the Courier closes her own book with force, Galharth lifts a brow as the Tailor peers at the elleth. "Why?" he asks softly as his head bends downwards whilst he looks at the pages of the tome. "I can not discribe my reasoning, for they make no sense to me. There are thoughts, and feelings, and desires that linger within me from the moments I was consumed within the visions."

Pausing his search, his hand spreads out over the open page, holding his place. "The captain faced personal loss, attempted to escape, and then found himself betrayed by the one he loved." Furrowing his brow, and pressing his lips tightly, Galharth looks back down at the tome selected. As he continues to turn the pages, he sighs softly. "I can not describe how I feel when I think on the matter, but it is remarkably less stressful than considering my own capture."

Gaze directed once more toward the open window, Lostiriel watches the heavy clouds scudding by. A loud gust of wind reverberates throughout the library, sending her long hair fluttering about her. Pushing it back, she nods to Galharth. "I hope that you find the information you are looking for, then. I also hope that your search proves enlightening in multiple ways." Shifting, she sighs and says, "I went to the border today... I can hardly explain why but I felt drawn there. And I watched as the earth unfolded before me, large and unmarred, endless it seemed. I wish that I could tell you the conflicting emotions that I felt as I sat there, still guarded by the sanctuary of Lorien, looking out upon my small window. It seemed to me just as tiny as that window allowing only the barest glimpse of the vast sky above. Perhaps, in some small way, I felt a little of what you feel about the ship."

The light from the candle glimmers in Lostiriel's earnest eyes as she leans forward. Her gaze looks at the book and then lifts to the tailor's face. "Perhaps, as we have said before, our dislike for change and resistance to it leaves us feeling hopeless as to how we should cope when change is forced upon us. I know that recent events have created changes within me that I struggle to even define. I can not even begin to understand how all that you have experienced must leave you feeling..."

"I would be happy with a start along the path of understanding," Galharth mutters as he continues to turn the pages. Pausing only long enough to scan the pages, he sighs softly. At Lostiriel's mention of her trip north, the Tailor paues to look up. "Did something happen on our borders this day?" He asks with concern.

Nodding with understanding, the crafters hand spreads out over the writing on the page open. "Think not of it as change, but growth, and surely it will settle within you." A soft chuckles escapes as the ellon tilts his head to look upon the Courier. "Chance is but a sweet taste that one beings to crave when absent. Be wary, Courier."

Shaking her head, Lostiriel quickly assures him, "No, nothing happened. It was all very quiet." She glances at the pages he is turning, "Are you finding anything there? And if not here, then where will you look next? And you said something before...something about being consumed with visions... I'm not sure I know what you mean, perhaps you could explain."

"And yes, perhaps it is growth, if growth is a bittersweet process that brings some pain with every joy," she replies, but with a smile on her face. She, too, laughs softly, and nods, replying, "If anyone should understand that I am wary, I think it should be you, Galharth. I thought that I expressed my wariness perfectly well before."

Glancing at the book laid out on the table before him, Galharth shakes his head. "Nothing," Galharth mutters softly as he slowly turns the pages. "Just as I've found on previous searches." Frowning a moment, he continues to skim the open page. "Isengard revealed nothing, and I know not where else to turn."

Looking up from the pages, the Tailor smiles. "Indeed, you've shown yourself wary and wise. Now if you could just being training with your bow, you'll be a formitable opponent."

"And yet if I know you at all, then this shall not stop you from your goal. You will find some way to continue your search, of that I am certain. Despite all that I said before, perhaps I can help you." She glances at him with a smile and shrugs, "At least a little." Her soft laughter mixes with the the rushing sound of the wind and she nods, adding in more serious tones, "But truly, I would be happy to help. Perhaps your extreme interest has rubbed off onto me."

"Ah, the training. Yes, I need to pursue that. Perhaps I will be able to do so soon, I hope so..." Returning to a previous question, she asks again, "I still wonder what you meant about visions..."

Chuckling softly, Galharth nods. "I'll not stop any time soon. Not until I have some answers." Lightly closing the book, the tailor sighs softly. "This offered no help," he says as he rises to his feet. 'there is little more that I can find in Lorien. Perhaps I need to consider going northwards to see if something exists in the tomes of our kindred. We've spoken of going north before. Perhaps it's time to make these plans with some level of sincerity."

"Visions, ah, it is hard to describe." The crafter explains, "Imagine for a moment stepping into the memory of another. This is what occured when I grasped the knife that was so long sunken to the floor of the Anduin."

Placing her head in her hand, Lostiriel leans on the table, considering Galharth's words. "Yes, perhaps we should. I am willing to do so, and you may find the information that you are seeking. And in finding those answers, you may better understand these visions that you speak of." She thinks for a moment, then stands. "Indeed, perhaps we should seriously consider it. For now, I should be going. Goodbye for now, Galharth." The wind continues to rage as Lostiriel departs, sending her cloak billowing behind her as she walks away, melting into the darkness.