================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 1:55 AM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 31 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: First Quarter <HIDDEN>
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: Thu Oct 25 10:38:32 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 voices -- 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
Pelliwen
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Starlight shimmers down between the thick golden canopy that hangs overhead. The breeze is light, yet seemingly playful as it sweeps through the foliage of this eternally beautiful garden. A soft song is sung somewhere within the city, but clearly the volume is lighter now that midnight approaches. Lights sparkle from the lanterns, and the aura of mystery seems at it's greatest point as a light mist creeps gently over the ground.

Into this, the Tailor hobbles into the Garden of Silver lights. His eyes seem focused upon the Mithril Gates as if considering venturing further into Galadriel's santuary. "Such peace is found here," he mutters to himself, "And yet a calling to the future that lays ahead...." Certainly, something seems to be on his mind.

One does not have to enter the Garden too deeply to stumble upon the young silvan Pelliwen. Laying flat on the ground, she stares calmly up into the sky, Her eyes dancing from star to star. "Hello Galharth." she whispers without looking to the ellon. Obviously hearing the ellon's self made comments. "Take a rest.. Enjoy the stars..". Hands folded across her stomach, she nods in an efford to backon Galharth down.

Surprise registers on the Tailor's expression, but that quickly passes as he turns his gaze to the reclined elleth. Looking upwards to view the sight that now seems to capture Pelliwen, he smiles. "Indeed the night and stars are worthy of enjoyment, but other matters weight upon my mind." Looking down, Galharth lifts a brow. "I don't suppose Galadriel has passed through here this eve? Has she?"

"Galadriel" she comments with a raised brow, her green eyes darting to Galharth quickly upon the lady's mention. "..... I don't believe so. I should think I'd have noticed her pass.". Shifting her weight, Pelliwen leans onto an elbow and turns her attention completely to the ellon. Her hair, that layed in the ground hangs somewhat messily over her right shoulder. "Is something wrong?" she silvan asks, her expression slowly filling with concern.

"Nay, nothing is wrong," Galharth says quickly as he looks away from both the gates and the elleth on the ground. "I had hoped to find her here so that I might ask a few questions." Glancing back to the elleth he tilts his head. "You were aware that I've been thinking of journeying to Imladhrim, and I have a few questions lingering about the ship that still sits on the river bed."

The silvan's expression brightens at the mention of Imladhrim but such emotion is subdued with the the mention of the ship. "That ship does not seem to cause any bother." she replys simply "Why not leave it alone. ". Continuing to lean on her elbow, she looks up to the ellon thoughtfully. "Pondering the stars would be far more enlightening, don't you think?". Offering a smile, the young elleth gives her simple silvan wisdom.

"I suppose that question is asked of me, more than I'd care to admit." Galharth says with a half smile, "But the fact is, I found it, and it now leads my thoughts and my imagination. I can not say why, but it does." Pausing again to look up towards the sky, the Tailor takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "The light of the stars are indeed quite beautiful, and when mingled with the sweet scent of these gardens, one could linger a long while."

A moment more passes and he glances back towards the elleth. "But then, to do so, one would not manage to visit our kindred in Imladhrim." Clearly from the twinkle in his eyes and the smile upon his lips, he teases the elleth. "Tell me, what have you done to realize this dream to visit north, or have you changed your mind?"

"Now I'm a learner under Aluirwen. A sure step that should be" the elleth smiles warmly. "I've looked forward to telling you. It seems you've already been told.". Still looking up to the ellon, she once again beckons Galharth to sit. "Please sit. You have plenty of time to solve your ship mystery."

Galharth's eyes widen with surprise for the second time this eve, but with this, a broad smile forms shortly after. "You did? I am both surprised, and pleased! The Bards of Lothlorien have certainly gained a treasure. And no! I have not been told." The Craftmaster says, clearly happy with this turn of events. Lowering himself to the soft grass, near where the elleth lies, he lays his staff beside him. With a wince of discomfort, he adjusts his legs to cross before him and he draps his arms over his knees. "Tell me the tale, Pelliwen, so that I might know the full facts when I must go to speak with your father about joining my group to travel north." Pausing his smile faulters slightly, "If, of course, the Lord and Lady allow me to go."

Turwaithiel having spent much time and engery on the various problems of the day she decided to slip away for a bit, it was late but she enjoyed this time of night as well as she did the early morning. The sound of voices drew her attnetion and she approached.

Springing up from her elbow to a seated position, the wide eyed elleth's hands clasp together excitedly. "Oh Galharth, that is wonderful. To think a trip to Imladrim is perhaps near. Quite exciting indeed." she replys quickly through a bright expression. "My father may be difficult, he does not believe anyone should come or go from the wood. Is his blessing required Galharth.". Before his response can come, her attantion is drawn to another approching.

Be it sound, or perception of something changing within the Garden, the Tailor looks over his shoulder. Catching sight of Turwaithiel, he lifts a hand and becons her near. "Join us, Mellon. No sense in sitting alone when company lingers so near." Glancing to Pelliwen, "This is Turwaithiel," he tells Pelliwen with a smile. Looking back over his shoulder, his hand sweeps towards the younger elleth, "And this is Pelliwen. We were just discussing a trip to Imladhrim, a ship which sits upon the bottom of the river, and most importantly, this dear young lady's entrance into the Bards."

Glancing once more towards the new Learner, he smiles. "Worry not of your father, his blessing is not required, but I will speak with him out of respect. He will know this to be the case. For now, let us look forward to more pleasant topics."

Turwaithiel joins them and makes her self comfortable. "I have seen the ship but had not thought to wonder where it was bond." She pauses and ponders the trip for a moment. "Imladhrim is far away and traveling is not easy. It is better to stay here where you are safe and there is nothing in the outside world we do not have here." She turns to Pelliwen and smiles. "A bard you say? I am sure you will make fine one. I know nothing of bard craft myself but I have always enjoyed the out come."

The sight of the approching elleth does the expected as with a deep breath, Pelliwen is almost immediately swept with a great wave of shyness. "Hello Turawaithiel.." she greets, her energetic voice already subdued to a whisper. As the elleth sits near, the young silvan's gaze turns down to the ground. Arms crossed tight, she replys to the elleth softly. "Yes.. A Bard...". The young silvan says no more, only offering polite smiles directed towards the ground..

Turwaithiel laughs quietly. "Why you are a shy one aren't you? To be a bard you are going to need to come out of that. Pray why to you look at the ground rather than those speaking to you?"

Turwaithiel's words do not seem to ease the young silvan. Though she does nod along to her words, green eyes still focused on the ground. "Perhaps..." she stats softly, raising quickly to her feet. "I shall think on that Turwaitheil..". Pelliwen's hands clasp nerviously at chest level as her eyes turn to Galharth "We can speak on this later good tailor. I just realised I have some practicing to do.." An obvious lie, but this type of behaviour is not uncommon. Sadly

Lifting a finger quickly to his lips, "shhhhhhhhush," the Tailor quickly glances round the garden. "The Lady bid us not to dive upon the ship, but there is nothing to say you could not see the Ships figurehead." Again he looks around the garden and finding no one he relaxes. Glancing towards Pelliwen, he cranes his neck slightly, offering the young elleth his full attention. "Tell us of your joining. What words did Aluirwen speak to draw you to join?"

Glancing back to Turwaithiel he smiles. "She is young..." he mutters, but not before the Learner rises. Looking back to her he adds softly, "Sit Pelliwen, please do not leave."

Turwaithiel nods in agree emnt. "Yes please stay. I did not mean to offend though that may be as it seemed. I find that often times I speak without thinking. I confess I am curious as well, do tell us."

With a completely disingenuious smile, Pelliwen's eyes dart briefly to the pair. "I'd love to stay.. Really.. " she says, pausing to make up what she is about to say. The older pair likely seeing right through her. "Aluirwen... So fond of silvan music she is... Wants me to sing... Err write a tune for her to preform... I don't want to dissopoint her..".

"Curiosity is good, in some matters, such as seeing Imladhrim first hand." Galharth says as he glances from one elleth to the other. Pausing his gaze upon Pelliwen, he nods. "Perhaps we can help you with a topic for the constuction of your song? Certainly this must be allowed."

"Actually.. Thats not possable. Aluirwen wants to test my ability.." With a warm smile, the shy silvan darts away. Sure to exit before they can reply..

Turwaithiel cocks her head to left slightly. "I have not heard that is not allowed. Even if it is so suggesting ideas is not the same as giving away a song. Do you have any ideas for what you are going to write."

Lifting a hand to bid farewell, Pelliwen is gone before he can wish her well. "Alas, she moves quickly." the Tailor mutters softly as he looks upon the last point in which the young Learner had been seen. Glancing now towards Turwaithiel, he chuckles. "I'd not write one for her, but possibly give her some thought to inspire her. Ah well, she is gone." Sighing softly, he peers closely at the elleth. "How are you this eve?"

Turwaithiel shifts her gaze. "I am well enough. As I trust you are. Odd ideals and all. As for your bard with any luck she will do well enough. What brought you to the garden this night?"

"I seek the Lady, so that I might discuss my thoughts on a trip I'm planning to go north to Imladhrim." Galharth says, pausing to glance towards the Mithril Gates. "I had hoped that she might be found here this eve. Alas, no luck. Pelliwen was spending time watching the stars."

Turwaithiel nods. "That was the odd ideal I was speaking of. It seems foolish to me. Do not be rash when it comes to this. Think about what you are doing before acting. Is this not the better part of wisdom?"

Most members of the fair elven race are keenly attuned to their surroundings at all times, never missing a sound, sight or smell that passes them by. However, there are some few exceptions such as the elleth, Nioniel. She isn't what you would call unobservant; she simply finds herself preoccupied with one thing and another while walking sometimes and seldom notices when she's stumbled into an area already occupied by others. Such is the case now as she wanders slowly into the silvery garden.

She might indeed look a strange sight, holding in one hand a thin distaff of fluffy wool, while from the other dangles a rapidly whirling drop spindle. She is humming a merry tune whilst spinning her thread, which stops short when she glances up and notices that others are very near at hand.

Turwaithiel looks up at the sound of apporaching foot steps and is slightly taken back at the sight of the thread spinner. She calls out. "It is late for work. Come here with us in the grass. It is quiet lovely."

"Foolish? I've heard that too, and it does not slow my thoughts, nor does it satisfy my curiosities." Galharth says flatly. "My choices are my own, and I ask none to join me, though I turn few away should they too wish to journey with me."

Again, sound, or perhaps sense kicks in and the Tailor turns. "Well met Nioniel. How goes the eve for you," His eyes focus upon that which she carries and he furrows his brow, "And your work? Do you conduct it so late in the eve?"

Nioniel's reaction to the greetings of her fellow elves is a mixed one. Partly surprised, partly glad and somewhat abashed. She blushes and chuckles, stopping the whirling motion of her spindle with a gentle touch. Smiling at the invitation to sit down, she lightly steps over and takes a seat upon the soft, cool ground and begins winding the last of her newly spun thread. "I do work late in the evening at times," she says in answer to their questions, "But it isnt really work to me. I enjoy it, and it helps me to think." Here she pauses a second before adding, "I ... I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?"

Turwaithiel shakes her head. "Of course not. We were simply enjoying the evening and it does not seem right to allow you wonder alone when there are others about. I trust you are well this night?"

"I do not scold you Nioniel," Galharth says with a laugh. "There are many a days that I do the same myself." Sweeping a hand to the grass nearby, "Come sit with us, take a rest from your work for the moment to enjoy the company." Glancing first to Turwaithiel he nods in agreement with her words and then turns to Nioniel for a response.

Visibly relieved at knowing for certain that she is not being reprimanded in the slightest for her work, Nioniel relaxes. Smiling less bashfully now, she completes the winding of her thread, "Aye, I am very well this evening. I hope that the same goes for you both?"

The moment Nioniel ceases to speak, however, a smallish, pale brown dog with elegantly pointed ears comes cantering up to her (obviously a friend) and plants his paws on her shoulders with a happy bark as if to say, "Found you!"

Turwaithiel looks at the little dog that seems to have take upon its self to join them. "Of course it would hard not to be on such a night. Though at times I feel I can be to open so do not mind me." There is a pause and a quick subject change. "What a cute dog. Does he have a name?"

"I have no complaints." Galharth says as he glances around the garden, clearly enjoying the setting. At Nioniel's last words he turns back towards her in surprise. "Ah, so this is your ever elusive dog. Was he the one we searched for at the Crossroads some weeks past?"

To Turwaithiel, he smiles. "There is nothing wrong with being open. No more so than being honest." The Tailor says with sincerity. With that said, the craftmaster looks back to Nioniel and the small dog. "How strange I've fogotten his name, but then when last we spoke it was only a day or so before....Ah, my incident." he says hesitantly avoiding mention of something tramatic.

Turwaithiel laughs at the dogs wiggles. "Dogs and children tend to be like that. I am glad you fond him though. It would be a shame for some one so small to be lost. I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you before. I am Turwaithiel, he has a splendid name."

"Ah!" Galharth says with the color rising to his face. "Forgive me, Turwaithiel, this is Nioniel and I'm sure from the wool she spins, you can tell she's a crafter. A Seamstress in fact," the Tailor offers in introduction. Looking now towards the dog, he lifts a brow. "The poor thing is likely going to wear himself out wagging his tail." He says with a chuckle. Lifting his gaze to Nioniel, he asks, "Tell me, how does he manage around the horses?"

Nioniel grins and nods to Turwaithiel, still rather busy cleaning up, and Calion hops up off of her lap. He bounces over to the other elleth and dances from paw to paw delightedly as if to say, "Im awfully pleased to meet you too!"

Turning her attention back to Galharth, Nioniel inclines her head as if to think, "He manages quite well, in fact. None of them have ever taken a fright to him, and hes never once been stepped on.

Turwaithiel reaches down and rubs the little dog behind the ears. "That is good. His so little all it would take was one stomp from a horse. Another crafter, I find my self surronded. I fear there is a risk for a conversation involving cloth in the near future. Something I know very little about."

"All that you say of your actions, and now the easy nature of your dog, all tell me that the Stables please you greatly." Galharth says with a soft chuckle, "Be wary, or I'll find yo a second job there. We are still in need of Stable Keeps." Turning to Turwaithiel, the Tailor laughs deeply, "Nay, there is little chance that we'll fall into conversation on cloth. I fear that the chance would be greater to fall into some kind of conversation about crafting." He shrugs his shoulders as he continues to laugh. "This might happen when one sits with a Guild Master."

Turwaithiel gave her head an amused shake. "Shall keep that in mind, so that I may brace myself. But then there is always the chance of learning something from watching, or listening as the case maybe. Or it allows a chance to learn the fine art ofltting the mind wonder while appearing to be deep in thought."

Its plain to see that the notion of becoming a stable keep does not displease Nioniel in the slightest, and she seems to be about to say so. However, she is interrupted by Calion. Pleased as he is by all this attention, something else has caught his eye or ear on the other side of the garden. Suddenly leaping up with a gleeful bark, he gives chase into the darkness.

With an exaggerated sigh , Nioniel rises as well and grins at the other two elves, "I hate to leave, but I had best be off after him. Last time I left him alone to a chase, he treed a poor defenseless ellon!" The wink she offers upon leaving might lead one to wonder whether she is joking or not. But either way, she vanishes hastily after the spirited dog who can be heard barking in the distance still.

Laughing louder, the Tailor looks upon Turwaithiel with surprise. "Would you ignore me?" He asks. "But I do compliment you on the manner in which you told me as such." Glancing towards Nioniel, he lifts a hand and waves farewell. "Enjoy some of your evening, mellon, but it seems that Calion will see to that with uncommon dedication."

Turwaithiel smirks. "Only when you speak of cloth, I would do in a subtle way of course you would not even notice it unless you were paying attention. Surely this can not be all that surprising to you. After all we do have or own things to think and worry about."

With his laughter slowly dying, the Tailor peers at Turwaithiel, in deep consideration. "I shall remember to avoid speaking about cloth with you, save for that occasion that you come seeking a new dress." Reaching out, Galharth takes hold of his staff. Drawing it up onto his lap, he smiles. "I say this because I always pay attention, and I might one day find myself offended to be ignored. Still...." he says, pausing a moment before he continues again. "......I do appreciate your warning."

Turwaithiel clibs to her feet and nods. "Aye keep it in mind. You never know when it may come in usefull. And with that I must say good night."