================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dawn < About 6:47 AM >
IC day is: Orgilion <Stars-day>
IC date is: 52 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: New <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: Thu Nov 01 12:15:49 2007
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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.
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The first light of dawn sweeps over the land, and the morning dew begins to
retreat for the day. A light wind bows from the South, bringing with it the
sweet, yet earthy scents of distant forests and grasslands. Song for the moment
has paused, as Anors rising seems to bring fort awe in all that might look to
the east.
On this morn, Galharth wanders the Rose Garden. Moving slowly, he pauses to gaze
upon various flowers and foliage. His interest seems to be intent, yet not as if
he seeks the scent, but perhaps a specific shape.
Turwaithiel had come to take in the peace of the early morning. The rose garden
had seemed like the place to do it. She enjoyed the compnay of the blossoms any
time of the day but they seemed to be at the best in the morning. The sound of
movement draws her gaze away from the blossoms and she starts slightly, having
believed she was alone. "Good morning, I fear you surprised me I though myself
alone in the garden. Tell me what brings you here?"
Glancing up at the sound of a voice, the Tailor repeats the elleth's surprise.
"Ah, forgive me, my attention was so focused upon the flowers I failed to notice
that there was more than the roses in the garden this morn." Offering a friendly
smile, Galharth tilts his head slightly to regard Turwaithiel. "I am preparing
to embroider some fabric with the likeness of the roses, and I thought to find a
few blossoms to repeat within my work." He pauses a moment, as if considering
something, then speaks once more. "What brings you here this day?" He counters.
Turwaithiel pauses for a brief moment. "I was here to enjoy the morning and
perhaps do some thinking of my own. But I should have know the reason for your
being here with out asking." She runs her hand across a blossom and looks back
up. "The blossoms always look their best in the morning I think."
"Indeed they do." Galharth says as he turns his gaze to look upon the flowers.
"The petals are fresh, and many contain the soothing dew. It is as if the buds
gently open at this hour to look upon Anor's rise. And in turn, the warmth of
day encourages the scent to rise up into the air." Returning his gaze to the
elleth, he lifts a brow. "Tell me, do your thoughts trouble you? I would listen
if you need someone to hear your words."
Turwaithiel shakes her head slightly. "Tis nothing really. I feel a bit foolish
about them. Still I can not help think that there is something over the horizon.
Some great event that will happen rather we want to or not." She paused and gave
a wane smile. "And now look what I have done bothered you with will turn out to
be nothing. Pay me no mind."
"The only thing that might make you foolish is to ignore a valid thought."
Galharth says softly as he turns back to the flowers. Reaching out his hand,
long, artistic fingers, gently caress the velvety petals of a deep red rose.
"That which lies upon the horizon is quite possibly your future, and I assure
you it is something we all consider deeply." Pausing his words, the Tailor
adjusts his grip upon his staff and leans forward to inhale the scent of the
flower possessing his attention. "I could be wrong, Turwaithiel, but it seems to
me that you might never learn what lies upon your horizon until you select a
path to take."
Rising up, the crafter shifts his balance and adjusts his grip upon his staff.
Turning to face the elleth he smiles. "And why in the world would I not pay
attention to your words? You don't bother me, and I enjoy speaking with others."
A smile appears, "So please continue? The conversation is pleasant."
Turwaithiel nods. "I must admit I find myself restless at times. As much as
things do change here they stay the same as well. I know it is for our benefit
that things are the way they are and I know I should be gratefull." A brief
brake while she decides where to go with this train of thought. "However things
change every where not even here can they remain the same always. I do not think
many people have thoght on this. When events we can not help to be caught up in
finally reach the wood be them good or bad I wonder how we will react."
"In many ways, you are the master of your own fate. You choose your reactions to
all that finds its way into our presence." Galharth says. A soft breath escapes
his lips as he looks around the Garden as if remembering a moment past. "I faced
such a moment years ago." he mutters, "But it was the littlest of things."
Falling silent for a moment, the Tailor's brow furrows slightly. "T'was a story
told by the Dunedain Henleg, and it managed to shape my life in so many ways
that I can not begin to describe."
Looking back to Turwaithiel, he shrugs his shoulders. "Perhaps such a thing
awaits you as well," he pauses, looks around and leans his head towards the
elleth, "Though, I would say, avoid Uruk, I've had some rather distasteful
experiences with that." He smiles a teasing smile and leans back. "Maybe you can
start upon your own road with a decision on a job. Have you thought about that
yet?"
Turwaithiel laughs at the though. "You are right I am sure it is a small thing.
But come let not spend the morning so somber, for it is far to glorius for that.
Though I will think on what you have said. I wonder what the secret is for
getting these flowers to always look this beautifull. I think this may well be
one of the lovest gardens I have ever seen."
Standing back from the northern entrance of the rose garden, Nioniel hesitates
to intrude upon the conversation between Galharth and Turwaithiel. Having only
just noticed their presence upon arrival, she stops shyly at the edge, gently
fingering the petals of a newly opened rose that glitters with morning dew in
the dawn light.
When the conversation lightens a little, she glances up and steps forward with a
smile, "It is a lovely morning ... And I hope you don't mind my intruding on it.
I do so love being here when the sun is rising fresh and new."
Galharth's face suddenly reflects insult, "I'm sindar!" He protests, "We're
noted for somber." He holds his expression for only a moment more, before a
smile bursts forth and he laughs. "Ah, I tease," he says turning to the flowers.
Considering the rose once more, he lifts a brow as if an idea had come to him
suddenly. "I've seen Mia working these gardens," he says turning his head
towards the elleth once more. "Perhaps you could speak with her. She is good to
share her secrets, and her songs to the flowers is quite lovely."
Opening his mouth to say something more, the Tailor falls silent. "Ah, well met,
Nioniel, and no, you do not intruded." Shaking his head to emphasize his words,
he continues, "In fact, we were just discussing such things about the beauty of
this garden."
Turwaithiel can not help a slight smirk. "Indeed, you are. But I am not and if
remain somber for great periods of time I think I shall go mad. I have seen her
in the garden working with the flowers, she has a gift for it that is true." She
looks to see who else may be in the goarden this morning. "He is right of course
you do not interupt. Please come join us."
Now well within the midst of the roses, Nioniel smiles back at both elves, glad
of being welcomed. But the smile she offers Turwaithiel is slightly more
mischievous. "Madness among elves is not becoming. To be sure Ive heard of such
things commonly in men, but I scarce know what we would do if one of our own
kind went mad." Grinning over at Galharth, she adds, "I felt rather as if Id go
slightly mad before I finished all the horse blankets I was asked to sew a short
while ago."
Glancing to Turwaithiel, Galharth winks. "A little seriousness won't kill you, I
promise." he says with a light tone. To Nioniel, the Tailor shakes his head.
"Not possible. Elves just don't go mad, that is a blessing the human's contend
with." Pausing, the Craftmaster lifts his chin slightly. "You finished?
Excellent!" He says with no small amount of appreciation reflecting in both his
voice and his expression. "With Thoniel's wedding coming up, and Lostiriel's
trip to Imladhrim, your help is indeed needed to complete a number of gowns.
Could I draw you away from the horses long enough for this, Nioniel?"
Turwaithiel reaches and smooths a displaced strand of hair. "
Turwaithiel "This wedding seems to be the event of the summer. I am looking
forward to seeing the end result. With all the work being put into it there is
no doubt it shall be something talked about for quiet some time.Of course who
does not enjoy a wedding."
Her deep blue eyes sparkling amusedly, Nioniel nods in ascent to Galharth's
question, "It will be a struggle, but I think I can bear part myself long enough
from them to help with those garments." She pauses and tilts her head slightly
before continuing, "Really, I should hope you would know I'm overjoyed to be of
help."
Turning to Turwaithiel, she chuckles, "Im sure that you are right, and it will
be quite something to behold. But Ill also warrant that in the end well all be a
little relieved when its over. At least those who are rushed in the preperations."
"Ah, but there are many reasons to not enjoy a wedding," Galharth says, with a
hint of mischief. "Opposing houses forced to unite for the common notion of a
couple. Perhaps not so loved by one who's lost a love and might have to wait
before they might be united again? Certainly it's not all romance and flowers."
Shaking his head he offers an innocent smile. "Still, it's a pleasant
opportunity to meet and speak with most folks in the wood while they seek to get
their outfits done. Certainly the horses won't mind that much." Glancing from
one elleth to the other, the crafter shakes his head. "Perhaps I feel a little
more rushed than some, but only since I wish to join Lostiriel on her trip to
Imladhrim."
Turwaithiel finally manges to get the strand back into place. "Of course it not
always how we would like it to be. But it is nice to pretend that even for a
short time that it can be all romance and flowers. Thats why I think weddings
are so talked about, it lets you believe that it is true. Speaking of Lostiriel
and her ventre do you think it will be before or after the wedding. It would be
a shame if those who were going to have to miss it. Your are right Nioniel I
think after it is over we will look forward to not being rushed as much."
Smiling in complete agreement with Turwaithiel, Nioniel nods vigorously.
Obviously she knows quite well that Galharth is joking as he speaks and she
chuckles at his words. However, her eyes widen a little in shock as he mentions
his forthcoming departure with Lostiriel to Imladhrim. Perhaps a little
breathlessly, she says, "Oh ... you are going as well?" To those who know
Nioniel, such shock is no surprise. The idea of travel beyond the Golden Realm
is quite overwhelming to her, and somewhat frightening.
"I would think that Lostiriel would wait until after the wedding," Galharth says
as his eye catches sight of a nearly perfect bud. Pausing his words, he leans
forward to examine the line and color of the newborn bloom. "I'm sure you've
heard of my interest in researching the history of the ship that lies at the
bottom of the river. It has been suggested that the information I seek might be
found in Imladhrim." Looking up from his inspection of the flower to first one
elleth and then the other, he smiles. "I managed to remind the powers who might
be that it was time that Lostiriel set forth upon a mission that might bring her
to the level of Prelate. It suited me to find a purpose so that there would be
no clouded suspicion upon my desire to head north." Shrugging his shoulders he
adds, "I doubt that the Lady would be so generous as to let me set forth again
without reasonable purpose other than the ship."
Turwaithiel glances at Noiniel. "All the way to Imladhrim. I would never dream
of going that far from the woods myself. But I can see the need for it,
Lostiriel is quiet looking forward to it of course." Her gaze switches speakers.
"I knew you did it some how I did not know until now. Quiet clever if you are
intent on going with her. No doubt you will find it lovely but I would think
even there the golden wood 's beauty would be still greater."
Eyes still wide, but with interest rather than anxiety, Nioniel nods...still
somewhat uncertainly as she listens to the explanation for the expedition from
Galharth. Fingering a nearby blossom absent-mindedly, she speaks a little hushed
now, "I hope that you wont run into any ... any trouble on the journey."
Smiling a little wistfully at Turwaithiels words, Nioniel sighs and glances up
at the boughs overhead, golden and illuminated by the morning sun. "Yes, however
great the journey, surely anyone would be glad to return in the end, no matter
where they have gone."
With a twinkle in his eyes, the Tailor glances towards Turwaithiel. "Let it
never be said that Crafters are not crafty. All in all, it was quite easy to set
the trip into motion, especially given that Lostiriel does indeed need to work
her way towards Prefect."
Glancing towards Nioniel, Galharth nods slowly. "I will be glad to walk without
aid, and find myself overly refluctant to meet the fate of my last trips.
Perhaps it will be different considering we travel northwards." Pausing to
consider the Seamstresses other words, he nods. "From what I've seen so far,
Lothlorien is truely the most beautiful. I can not imagine not wishing to
return."
Turwaithiel nods, "I have never left but I would think that after a time away
from ones home that you thoughts would be returning to the place that you left.
I can not understand why any one would even think about leaving their home and
not wish to return in time. Well perhaps if they suffered a great loss and the
place holds painfull memories. But still even if that were to happen I would
long for the wood to much to never return. Why the thought alone is heart
breaking."
Visibly relieved at Galharths last words spoken of Lorien, Nioniel fairly beams.
She glances and nods sadly at Turwaithiels reasoning for why one might leave
their beloved home. "Truly, I could think of nothing so sad as that..."
Her expression suddenly changes to a startled one as she appears to recall
something. "Ai, Id forgotten I was to return these to a friend of mine..." here
she pauses and digs out two brightly coloured balls from a pocket hidden in her
skirt, doubtless the kind used in juggling. "Miluihen said with practice I would
learn, but alas, I have no dexterity save only with a needle it seems."
Here she chuckles and waves a cheerful farewell as she hurries off. "Namarie for
now, my friends!" she calls back over her shoulder.
Galhath smiles at Turwaithiel and nods. "Acceptance of a place you love, and a
longing for the joys and sense of perfection that lies within is a powerful
thing. Given the choice, I would not leave, yet answers on the ship that lies
upon our border are not to be found here among the golden canopies of our home.
I can not ignore the mystery so I go forth with the longing to return."
Turning to respond to Nioniel, the Clothier lifts his brows in surprise to watch
her departing form. "Farewell, Nioniel! I shall see you soon."
Turwaithiel watches Noiniel depart for a moment." Of course. If you did not you
would for ever wonder what the answers where. It is the right thing that you do.
Though I must confess I envy those who are brave enough to leave. I hope do many
things still yet. However leaving the wood is not one of them."
"I need no reminder regarding the need for bravery." The Tailor says flatly,
"And do not envy that which is not always there." Looking up towards the elleth,
he shakes his head. "You show great intelligence in your commitment to remain
safely within the wood, but be wary for you might find yourself drawn fom your
original intent." He smiles, "I shall warn you if Henleg comes to visit, for his
stories are quite powerful considering it is a secondborn telling them."
Turwaithiel ponders for a moment. "Do warn me. For if I know it is him I shall
be on my guard. Though I doubt there should be much mistaking him for anyone
else. We rarely get those sort of visitors here. I may very well find myself far
from home one day, it is hard to tell what tommorow will bring. If it does find
me far away I would not regret it though if it finds me spending my days here I
would much prefer it."
Nodding his head, the Tailor sighs. "Ah well, enough pleasantries for the day. I
need to get back to work now that I've finished my research." Taking a step west
towards the roadway, Galharth pauses and glances towards Turwaithiel. "Thank you
for the conversation," With that he turns and heads towards the roadway,
disappearing between the brush.
Turwaithiel watched him go. "Aye may your days be a good one."