================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dusk < About 7:22 PM >
IC day is: Orgilion <Stars-day>
IC date is: 28 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: Waxing Crescent <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 18 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3042>
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RL time: Wed Oct 24 16:27:35 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
Thorhur
Ostiel
Maglind
Winuvielle
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The dusk almost seems surreal, an image captured in the mind of an artist, but never could one imagine such beauty in the sky. As Anor begins her steady descent down below the Earth and Ithil prepares to rise to take control of the sky, colors blend in warm brilliance. The high clouds are colored pink and orange, while on the horizon, yellows, pinks, oranges, and reds blend into one like paints running together on an easel. This scene is indeed picturesque.

On the lawn one sits in deep thought. His body is still and his chin rests firmly in his hands. His eyes are focused ahead, and he makes no sound, even as the sounds of the evening in Caras Galadhon flutter around him. Indeed, Thorhur is completely at ease.

A flash of white. A hint of jasmine. The pleasant pounding of rhythmic feet. Bump. Ba Bump. Bump. Ba Bump. Bump. Ostiel's pale, slender legs twist and bend beneath folds of silk, her arms and hands form ethereal figures on the air's everchanging landscape. Color sparkles on her moving form like glintings of sun on clear water. She dances, and as her body moves for the earth, so it does for her. The grass tickles her toes playfully. Birds chirp out a rhythm. The flowers sway in time.

The approach of another rouse's Thorhur from thought. His head slowly rises, his eyes coming to rest on the figure approaching him. Watching her dance he is almost tempted to stand and join her. Indeed, he does gracefully rise to his feet, but merely raises a hand in greeting and smiles. "Good eve Ostiel. May I assume that one who dances with such joy and grace fares well at this fading of the day?"

Ostiel's sparkling eyes flit from the horzion to Thorhur, filled with welcome and good will. Bump. Ba Bump. No answer falls from her lips but one of laughter, drifting out with golden tendrils. Yes...Ostiel fares well. Her expression speaks a challenge, even as long fingers beckon. Beckon to join this dance of joy.

Thorhur's smile broadens and his eyes seem to gleam with laughter as he takes a step closer. However, he is blushing and his voice contains a note of embarrassment. "I-I don't know," he stutters. "I am not much of a dancer, and I don't think even a thousand years of practice would help me dance with the same grace and natural rhythm you have." Even as he says this though, Thorhur's foot inadvertently begins to tap with a steady beat just a bit out of sync with the one that Ostiel keeps in her dance.

"It's quite simple," Ostiel finally speaks, voice warm. "A dance that a babe could learn. Watch my feet." Lifting up her skirts to mid-calf, the healer demonstrates. Step left, step right, turn, heel, turn, toe, sway. Stepping back a pace, the healer inclines her head. "Now it is your turn."

Thorhur's first attempt is weak and a bit unsure. His steps seemed force, involuntary. However, a second try makes improvement, although not much. He repeats the routine, never halting, trying to become immersed in the rhythm of the dance as he trains his legs to move with a much more natural grace.

Amused, but not disdaining, Ostiel watches the progress with a smile twitching on the corner of her mouth, applauding loudly for success when it begins to appear. "That's it. Just relax into the step." Her own feet and body begin to move again, re-energized.

Surprisingly, Thorhur is finding that he is beginning to move in time with Ostiel and enjoying himself much. He had never knew how dance could really be this much fun. A smile brought on by joy now forms on his lips as he begins to moves faster and faster. Bom. Bom. Bom. He can almost hear a beat in his head now. Indeed, he is having much fun now.

The two rhythms join as one, and it is with delight that Ostiel throws back her head. "Yip!

The two rhythms join as one, and it is with delight that Ostiel throws back her head. "Yip!" The mallorns watch with interest these two eldar, who dance on carpet of green, upon earth so deep. The horizon glows, light-enriched, deepening into darkness with effervescence tinging the air, dripping down onto Lothlorien in invisible washes.

With dusk come shadows, and in them a figure stands watching as the Healer and Sentinel dance. "When healers dance, does the dancer heal?" Galharth says stepping out into the last glimmers of light.

Thorhur's dance has reached its fastest. His own laughter is muffled as he begins to spin in wide circles. He has now grabbed Ostiel's hands. He is spinning, out of rhythm but having fun. His eyes are closed, so would never notice the small uneven patch of grass. However, when his eyes open again, he has released Ostiel's hands and is on the ground. At first he merely brushes the dirt off his cloak before breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Standing, he can stifle his laugh as he bends over, his side hurting from his laugh attack. He does not notice Galharth.

Ostiel's amusement bubbles over mid-twirl, and she cannot help but stop still as well, hands coming to rest on Thorhur's shoulders. "Are you alright, mellon nin? Nothing sprained?" Giggle. Galharth's entrance is not lost on this one, for the elleth greets him with bright grin and hearty laughter. "I certainly hope so, Galharth. For this one may indeed need such treatment." This is said in jest.

Leaning heavily upon his staff, the tailor raises a brow as he peers at Thorhur. "Are you alright, Thorhur?" Galharth asks with some concern. Chuckling softly at Ostiel's words he glances towards the Attendant and then back towards the Sentinel. "I don't think he's hurt more than his pride, but I do recommend that he take the time for lessons with Calsir."

Thorhur gains control of himself, panting and gasping for breath. When he can inhale normally, he turns to the Craftsmaster and Ostiel. "I am fine. I suppose I became too absorbed in the dance. Funny, I never thought I could become absorbed in dance." Stepping forward he hangs his head, mostly for embarrassing himself in front of the two elves. However, the tone of his voice has not changed. For a while he says nothing though, and when he does speak it is in farewell. "Thank you Ostiel. My experience was enjoyable, and your prodding me to dance has now sparked an interest. It can truly relieve one of stress. Perhaps I shall seek out Calsir and look for lessons." With his head up, The Sentinel smiles, still blushing, and with a large wave to both Galadhrim he walks quickly off the lawn, an "I must be going. Farewell." being uttered before he is out of sight.

Hmmm. Ostiel's eyebrows quirk up in witty interest as the flustered ellon hurries off. Ah, well. She sighs, turning now to Galharth with congenial mien. "And how are you, mellon nin? I hope the approaching evening finds you in as light of spirits as myself." As if to demonstrate, her feet bounce lightly, propelling the slender elleth up and down, up and down, brimming with energy.

Watching as Thorhur departs, Galharth's brow furrows slightly, and he turns to Ostiel. "I hope I didn't chase him off. The dancing certainly appeared fun." With the aid of his staff, he moves closer to the Attendant. "My mood is light and quite positive," the Tailor says softly as he watches the activity unfold before his eyes. "You look more than light of spirit." he says with a grin, "You look positively bouncy."

"It must be your imagination," Ostiel teases, lashes fluttering over eyes filled with glints of mischievious light, "For I am perfect calm, mellon nin." Bounce. Bounce. She looks down at her feet, flushes deep rose from temple to neck. "Now, stop that. Don't ruin my credibility." They refuse to listen.

Laughing pours forth, ringing out into the darkening sky. The Tailor teeters, slightly off balance, as a hand releases from his staff so to wrap an arm around his waist. It almost appears as if he's pained from the deepness of his laughter. "You bounce and now scold yourself, oh Attendant, you do have a way to make me laugh." Lifting his freed hand he wipes droplets of tears from his eyes. "But surely you must stop your playfulness or I will be in need of a healer."

"Hmmm..perhaps I should indeed." Ostiel schools her face into something related to solemnity, but the artifice isn't much convincing. Her face still glows, her body still sways. The feet have stopped moving, at least. Reaching out, the healer lays her warm hand on Galharth's side, feeling the muscle beneath. "Does this pain you?"

"Certainly not," Galharth says with an expression of puzzlement. "It is my balance that I fear." Chuckling once more, the Tailor swats Ostiel's hand lightly, "Tease me not, unless you seek to draw me into a dance." His eyes sparkle with his own teasing as he adds, "And with that I warn you, my leg still regains strength so your toes are in danger of being stepped upon, if in fact I do not steal your balance and send us both tumbling down."

"I do not tease," Ostiel replies calmly, though her smile dampens any growing seriousness. However, she does not withdraw, but steps closer, mirthful. "I may risk it, mellon nin. When was the last time you stepped with lightness?"

"You were warned," the Tailor says with a half smile and a slight tilt of his head. Shifting his feet slightly, he lifts his staff with one hand and tosses it lightly to the side. With a soft thump, it lands softly upon the grass. With a straight expression, save for the slight curl to his lips, he offers a hand, "Both nature and the Bards kindly offer the music, would you care to do them honor and dance with me to celebrate their talants?" Reaching forth with his other hand, Galharth prepares to set a hand upon the Attendants lower back should she accept.

"I will," Ostiel does indeed affirm, hand drifting upward from waist to shoulder. "Hopefully I have enough balance for us both." Aligning her body with the Tailor's, she waits for him to lead.

Lightly touching Ostie's back with one hand, the Tailor takes her hand with the other. "Something light?" He asks as he steps forward weakly with his left foot, leading the Healer into a lively series of steps. Stepping forward is quickly followed by a step to the side, a short hop, a slight turn, and finally a step back. His steps are careful, clearly hesitant when leading with his weaker leg, but his clenched jaw indicates the stubborn intent to complete a simple dance. "It seems your toes might survive this eve...." he says, offering a wink.

"Yes...it seems they might." Even as she is enjoying the dance, moving in time with the Tailor, the Cuigrithweg watches him closely for any sign of distress, eyes darting to his legs every few steps. However, she doesn't appear to be concerned, squeezing his shoulder lightly with a peaceful sigh. "It is good to see you recovering, Galharth."

"This won't last," Galharth says quickly as he leads into another round. "As with my longsword training, my leg betrays me." Turning slightly, and moving to step back the Tailor stumbles slightly as his leg gives way. "Guard your toes lady!" he mutters as he completes the round. Releasing Ostiel, he limps back a few steps. "Alas, I have not the grace I would hope to have. Perhaps we can try again when I gain more strength."

"All the same," the healer shrugs goodnaturedly, "Any progress is most welcome." To the request she smiles, and nods in agreement. "Of course. You are a fine partner, inspite of injuiry."

Magnificence! Utterly lovely! She could NOT get enough of the sheer sight, never mind the amount of times she has visited here throughout her lifetime thus far. Winuvielle skirts the brilliant silver basin of the fountain that has been situated atop this large hill; cornflower blues locked with strange wonder upon the falling cascades of water. Down, down... clear and glistening.. then further onwards into the meandering stream. The strange little elleth beamed, her thin brow raising in mirth as she clasped her palms together, her index fingers steepling. She eventually finds a spot that is to her favor, after much bustling and fussing around the great centerpiece. With barely a sound, the elleth plops herself down alongside the basin.. not directly NEXT to it but close enough so she may hear both the falling sheets of water, and the gurgling of the adjacent stream. Clearly at peace, Winuvielle then allows herself to pretty much FLUMP back into the grass and flowers, her dreamy eyes now focusing high above... watching diamond-like flecks of water spray overhead. Her expression is not that of carefree abandon, but something more... artistic plotting.

Turning, and moving in a pace that is half hopping and half limping, Galharth looks for his staff. Catching sight of it nearby, he also catches sight of the newly arrived elleth. "Well met, mellon!" He calls out towards the reclined edhel. "Would you mind gathering up my staff to save me the possibility of falling in an attempt to retrieve it?"

"No need to disturb her," Ostiel murmurs, half to herself and half to Galharth, "When I am a mere two steps away." That said, she makes for the staff.

T'was utterly blissful to be here; contentment drove deep, straight into the very soul of the young elleth as she allowed her eyes to close briefly. She had spied both Ostiel and Galharth and watched their dance with much mirth, but she sought to leave them in peace. However, when she is beckoned to assist, Winuvielle opens her eyes and pushes her lissome frame upwards from the grass... really not minding at all that bits of grass have found their way into her ebony tresses. T'is only nature, after all! Her grin returns, and once upright she thrusts a hand up into the air to wave to both of her fellow Galadhrim. "But of course!" She cries melodically, truly spirited and honestly.. not at ALL nervous in the company of those she has not formally met. With a flourish of those wayward black locks and her gown, Winuvielle is now to her feet and hastily making her way towards the the staff. However, she pauses upon meeting Ostiel! Her grin still prominent, she gestures to staff. "Shall I leave the deed to you, milady?" She queries gently, not yet reaching for the staff but instead, nodding her dark head respectfully.

"To someone, or anyone," Galharth says pleadingly, "Hopefully before I fall flat on my face, or worse, ruin my clothing." Offering a smile to each of the elleth, the Tailor looks hopefully towards his staff.

For a moment, Ostiel hesitates, but then she laughs lightly, gesturing forward. "Please do, before he does indeed fall." She steps back to Galharth's side, offering her support, should he need it.

Yeek! Winuvielle overhears Galharth's plight, and rubs the back of her head. She immediately reaches down to gather the staff at Ostiel's insistance, and is equally swift in getting the support BACK to where it is most definitely needed! Also reaching Galharth's side, the elleth gingerly offers the staff to him. "Here you are," She states gently, looking up to both Galadhrim with kind eyes. "I certainly do not wish to see you take a tumble."

Offering a smile as he reaches for the staff, the Tailor nods. "It is not that I don't trust the Healers," he says with a quick glance towards Ostiel, "But I've certainly spent enough time in their care these past months." Taking hold of the staff, he quickly adjusts his weight to be supported on the length of wood.

"I am Galharth, and I am most grateful for your help." he says, "Should you ever require anything of the Crafters, I am in your debt."

Now Ostiel moves a polite distance away, merely watching the proceedings, eyeing the newcomer with great interest.

"My.. most appreciated, alas.." Winuvielle smiles, holding up a hand briefly. "I shall ask nothing of you in return. For it is courtesy, simply put. I am simply happy to see that you are feeling better, now that your staff has been returned to you." She holds her tongue, in regards to a particular question... as to how Galharth came to require a staff in the first place! Alas, politeness reigns... Winuvielle merely smiled thoughtfully. "But, you are a Crafter, you say? A most intriguing gift.. I should like to investigate such a thing myself, when I feel that I am ready to pursue a craft. However..." She trails off, catching herself! Mentally reprimanding herself for not returning the introductions, the eccentric young elleth bows her head once more. "I am Winuvielle," She offers, beaming as she looks up. "It is a pleasure, Galharth. And, milady.." Winuvielle turned to Ostiel, next.. very much intent on figuring out who this elleth may be in turn. "May I ask of your name..?"

"I am Ostiel, of the Cuigrithweg." Inclining her head to the young elleth, Ostiel offers a smile, then proceeds to shoo off a beetle that has chosen to land on her sleeve. Naught creature. A quick nudge is enough to send him flying.

The Tailor's head perks up at the elleth's words. "You are interested in becoming a crafter?" Galharth quickly asks. "What craft draws your interest Winuvielle?" Glancing to Ostiel as the elleth directs a question to the Healer, he clearly waits with excitement for the answers to his own questions.

"A definite pleasure, Ostiel. Of the Cuigrithweg..! Also of the utmost intrigue; I am eternally grateful for those such as yourself who are proficient in taking away the pain. I speak from experience... for I've had days where I haven't exactly been grateful." Winuvielle genuinely responds, her face alight with the contentment in meeting some new faces. Her gaze holds nothing but the utmost respect for the graceful elleth who has taken to the side, to observe. For Winuvielle has indeed come across some pretty flamboyant accidents in throughout her seven centuries! But hey.. a bump on the head... surely isn't nice, but this particualar elleth -- in her optimism -- treats it as an opportunity to meet more people!

Weird little thing, she is.

Thus, Winuvielle now focuses upon Galharth's question, and a bit of nervous excitement thrums in her chest. "Yes! I have been trying to hone myself in jewelry making. My skill is by far elementary... but I practice when I can. It's a nice way to pass the time, and have something come out of it!"

"Then fate has brought us together, mellon," Galharth says with a broad smile. Shifting his weight upon his staff, he holds his head up high as he continues to speak. "For I am a Master Tailor, and Craftsmaster of Lothlorien, and I certainly would be more than pleased to help you to join the Gwaith-I-Thein."

Again he shifts his position, freeing up one hand. With one hand holding his balance on the staff, he dips his other hand into his pocket. In an instant, he withdraws a wooden ring. Offering the ring to Winuvielle with his hand held palm up and open, the bold engraving on the wood can be seen upon the surface, hinting at the fire and dedication of the Gwaith-I-Thein. "I offer you this," the Tailor says softly, "Should you desire to pursue the skills of the crafters, then take this ring and I will send you to the forges as a student where you might learn the trade of the Jewelsmith."

The elleth's eyes became as round as saucers in that very instant, huge cornflower blue pools of mirth. Well, mirth could be an understatement... shall we say restrained jubilation? Winuvielle was struck dumb in that brief moment, needless to say.. for she truly did not have the gall to approach the Gwaith-I-Thein at her present skill level and request tutelage. But is that not what being a student and/or apprentice is all about? She did not take the wooden ring immediately, but simply stared at it.. and moments later, accepted it. Eyes still very bright due to feeling so very ecstatic, a pleasant grin begins to dawn upon the elleth's sweet face. "Truly!" She exclaims, looking at the ring curiously and handling it tenderly. "I am honored... absolutely.." Winuvielle trails off, as she eases the ring upon one of the fingers on her left hand... whichever one would fit best.

All she can do now is bow, wholly... her head dipping as rivulets of ebony dance over her shoulders and obscure her visage briefly. "Thank you so very much, Galharth! I shall accept your generosity wholly, and make the best of myself.. I promise you! I have but one request!" She chimes, suddenly very animated in her joy. "I would love to see your work, sometime.. to see the finery of which a Master Tailor is capable of! Could you show me, sometime..?"

Quickly glancing down as if to be sure he was wearing clothing, Galharth laughs. "I wear my own work, as do many within Lothlorien." He teases gently, "But if you seek a special project, go north to the great tree and look for the Quilt of Memories, and there you will see." Taking a few steps, north he turns to Winuvielle. "You are now an apprentice, and I should like to see you in the forges over the weeks to come. Learn first to work with metals, and from there you will be taught the art of shaping stones." Again the Tailor smiles, "And in time, I expect to see many wearing your work, perhaps as much as they wear mine."

A blush dusts Winuvielle's cheekbones, as she takes a moment in her excitement to keep herself grounded for an instant. 'See his work..?!'. SEE? Gah, she's seeing it now! The elleth did not wish to seem rude, but she now allows herself to openly have a good look at Galharth's regalia. She couldn't even begin to describe her wonder, with the Tailor's skill; the beauteous co-existance of teal and silver, and all of their splendid variations... two of Winuvielle's particularly favorite colors as a whole, and that includes all hues. "Now I see.." She whispers, still a bit red but of course, in good humor. "I commend your work... what an amazing ensemble. You are truly gifted!" Winuvielle exclaims, finishing her respectful examination of Galharth's work. In a heartbeat, she would agree to wearing anything that he made! But the thought of wearing her own work...? A bit worrisome, at her present level... but honestly? She has the confidence, and she would gladly exhibit her products... when the time was right.

For now, all the elleth can do is smile from ear to ear. "And the forges... most certainly! I shall be most diligent... I shall LIVE there!!" She exclaims, but keeps herself in check again... blushing again. She really is VERY excited. Winuvielle rubbed the back of her dark head again, and spoke once more.. calmer this time. "I will commence my studies right away... and in the time beforehand, prepare myself and gather my tools. But foremost... view the Quilt of Memories. For that is a must.." She really couldn't resist. ;)

"Then I shall see you in the hall of the Crafters," Galharth says as he hobbles towards the marble steps. "I shall stop at the Forges to let the JourneyElves know to expect you." Offering a smile and a slight bow of his head, he continues towards the steps, disappearing after a moment.