================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Before Dawn < About 4:18 AM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 13 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous <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: Tue Nov 06 11:26:05 2007
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Hall of the Royal Court

The white ladder from the base of the tree leads up into this cool and sheltered hall. Living leaves cast the flet into perpetual shade, their pale silver undersides glowing in the light of the soft lanterns hanging from the boughs. Beneath them, tasseled banners throw thin shadows on a great round table piled with books and furled scrolls. Several high-backed chairs surrond the table, their long arms gilt with gold. A second ladder made of grey rope runs up along the tree trunk, and a short rope bridge leads west.

Contents:
Galharth
Earsul
Niinaeth

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A fire seems to bubble along the eastern horizon as dawn approaches. The color of the sky lightens, somewhat diminishing the brilliance of the stars above. Still, the starlight rules, and with it a soft silvery light casts down over the land. A crisp summer breeze blows from the south, bringing with it the heady scent of nature. It promises to be a beautiful day, and the first songs from the Bards hint to that fact.

Carefully climbing the ladder leading up into the Royal Court, the Tailor Galharth pauses to draw in a deep breath. Planting his staff atop the talan floor, he glances around as if searching for someone.

Surrounded by scrolls, Earsul sits alone at the table. A lamp burns nearby, casting flickering shadows beyond its small radius of illumination. The soft light is enough for the Counsel, though, and his quill scratches away at the parchment before him, occasionally glancing at a map here, or examining a scroll there. He hears, and identifies, Galharth long before the tailor's head breaks the surface of the flet; climbing a ladder with a walking stick is not stealthy work. And so it is that he greets the new arrival without looking up from his work.

"Well met, Prefect! Have you brought me breakfast?"

Catching sight of the Counsel just as he speaks brings a smile to the Tailor's lips. "Alas, my journey was so slow in getting here that I found myself in need of nourishment." Galharth says with a hint of mischief, "so I fear your breakfast went forth towards the better good." Moving forth, the Tailor nears the table. Pausing, he glances at the maps and other articles. Lifting a brow he turns to look directly at Earsul. "I know of Lostiriel's upcoming trip, but is there another?"

It is a quiet Courier that enters the hall, her large eyes expressive and serious on this day. Her glance quickly darts around and, falling on Earsul and Galharth, a smile lifts the corners of her lips. Well met! And Galharth, I have been meaning to speak with you." A slight chuckle, and Lostiriel adds, "Indeed, everyone that I need to speak with I have been forced to seek out, but it seems that everyone else has been seeking me."

"Nothing new, no, just some last notes for the journey to Lord Elrond," Earsul replies. "Though I've a mind to send you to Beorn's folk for some of their honeycakes," he adds with a grin, laying down his pen at last as Lostiriel enters. "Ah! Let me just finish this, Lostiriel, and you can add it to your luggage. I trust preparations are going well?"

"Honeycakes? Perhaps you might come along in order to see that the sweeter negotiations go to our benefit," Galharth chuckles softly. Looking over his shoulder, he nods towards the Courier. "I have been unusually busy of late. The wedding preparations have the crafters in turmoil, for all walks of trade seem to be needed." Glancing towards Earsul, he coughs softly, "Including a still unfulfilled need for good wine. Perhaps you might help them out on that matter, Counsel?"

Chuckling softly, the Tailor turns back to look upon the elleth. "It is the same in my own need to speak with the Lady. Everyone and everything seems to be placed out of reach when you need them." Tilting his head to one side to consider what might be said, he adds. "How might I help you, Lostiriel?"

"I would be happy to take it for you, Earsul. And as far as my ability to know anything reaches, which seems frighteningly short, I do believe that preparations are going well." She shakes her head, reaching up to shove away a wayward strand of hair, and looks to Galharth, "I have spoken with Maglind and he has promised to provide security for this trip, after he frightened me with warnings of possible danger. And, last we spoke, he was taking care of preparations for the camp. Also, Thorhur and Winuvielle have requested to come along on this trip... But all are asking the same question... When are we aiming to leave? I was wondering if you have any suggestions on this..."

"The sooner the better," is Earsul's quick response. "The mountain passes are never easy to navigate, but they will soon be at their most navigable. Long hours of sunlight will also do much to limit any encounters with yrch, and stalwart though Maglind and Thorhur may be, it would be best if their valour was not called upon."

A frown appears upon the Tailor's lips. "And what did they list as their reasoning to go?" Galharth says with some level of interest. "Thorhur, I assume, wishes to join the Guards under Maglind's command. But Winuvielle? Pelliwen wishes to join as well, but for the moment she's been to shy to ask anyone but me."

Nodding to Earsul's words, his expression takes a serious note. "The Counsel is wise, but I would like to see Thoniel and Arahisie's wedding come to completion before we depart. If possible that is....." Shaking his head, he glances first to Earsul and then to Lostiriel. "Regardless of who you decide is to go, all must be armed and ready to fight just in case. As Earsul said, the long hours of light are to our advantage, but should the worst come, then we must be ready."

"These were my thoughts as well... I should like to leave soon, but perhaps it would be best to wait until after the wedding..." A sigh escapes the Courier and she shrugs, "Interest, it seems, is its own reason for many, Galharth. Thorhur said that he thought it may be advantageous for a member of the Glirdain to join, and Winuvielle... I do not know if she had a reason, other than curiousity. And I suspect that it would be the same with Pelliwen." Lines of worry work into Lostiriel's brow and she adds, "I believe you are right about the long hours of sunlight, Earsul. And I agree with you as well, Galharth, that all must be ready to fight if necessary. But also, is it not best to keep our numbers small?"

Frowning, Earsul scatters sand on his parchment to blot the ink. "I had forgotten the wedding," he admits. "Still, sacrifices must be made, and I am loath to waste these conditions. My recommendation would be to go now, before the wedding. As you say, Lostiriel, wisdom, stealth, and speed all call for a small group. No more than five, I would say. A pair from the Order, a pair from the Court - the last member I leave to your discretion." The ink has dried, and the Counsel tips the sand back into its jar, blowing the excess to the talan floor.

"If Thorhur's purpose is as a member of the Glirdain, then perhaps he can plan a trip for his Guild. This is a diplomatic mission." Galharth says flatly. "We do often take one or two who are curious, so they might see our overall place in this world. The decision is yours to make. Based upon Maglind's skills, I would say you can safely bring two non diplomatic members." Glancing to Earsul, Galharth frowns, but nods. "Timing is also your decision. I leave it to you, Lostiriel, and I will support it in any manner possible."

The Courier's eyes are serious as they ponder the advice she has been given, then she replies slowly, "Very well. After speaking with Maglind, the safety of this trip presses on me with great weight. Therefore, I feel I must do what is best for those who shall be going. That being said, I believe we must leave as soon as possible." Her eyes dart to Galharth for a moment, then her gaze drops. "Thorhur may serve many purposes, I believe, and therefore I have decided that he shall go. I do not yet know how I shall answer Winuvielle."

Earsul's frown has become as smile as he watches Lostiriel's decision-making. "Clearly, we have chosen the right Courier for this task," he says to Galharth. "Afraid of neither taking advice nor rejecting it. That is the path to wisdom. Perhaps it is well, besides, that you take with you one who has some training in the Glirdain. Elrond's people are fond of song, and I would have us well represented."

Galharth's eyes flicker with an inner fire as he nods. "I agree, Earsul. Or at least I agree on some measures. Lostiriel is indeed up for the task set before her, but if Thorhur attempts to voice the superior nature of the Glirdain in my presence more than I care to hear, he might find his enthusiasm cooled off in the river. Even with this, our dear Courier is right, he will serve well in both his Guard skills and a growing ability to speak the language of the Beornings."

"Hmm, well, I must admit I have not heard Thorhur myself," Earsul says. "I had assumed that for the Glirdain to have plucked him from the ranks of the Order he must have some skill. Perhaps you could learn a poem to read in the Hall of Fire?" Earsul's delivery is straight-faced, though he never can prevent his eyes glinting with mischief.

With great relief in her eyes, Lostiriel offers both Earsul and Galharth a smile, saying "I appreciate your confidence. And I do appreciate all of your advice, for I know I would be lost without it." Moving away, she adds, "I need to go take care of a few details. But again, thank you for all of your input." So saying, the courier moves swiftly away.

"No thanks are required, you've earned your ranking, and further earned this assignment." Galharth says quickly as he watchs the Courier depart. Pausing a moment, the Tailor waits until Lostiriel is fully gone before he turns back to the Counsel. "Ah, but he does indeed have talent. That can not be denied." Taking a deep breath, the Clothier shakes his head. "Unfortunately, in addition to his Bard talents he's managed to find his way onto my bad side on more than one occasion."

Leaning back in his chair, Earsul is pensive. "How serious a matter is this rift? If it is not something that can be easily resolved, then one or the other of you should not venture forth in this party. I won't risk discord putting the group in jeopardy." The Counsel's eyes glance towards the path that Lostiriel has taken. "It is her mission, true, but not until it departs the Wood. If need be, the makeup of the group can be altered. Tell me, what lies between you and Thorhur?"

"What lied between us? I'm not entirely sure." Galharth admits to the senior diplomat. "On one of the occasions we went forth to retrieve the catapult, a number of us were injured in an attack." he explains, "For whatever reason, known only to himself, Thorhur blamed my incapable leadership as the cause. For some odd reason, he felt my command over the Guard was lacking and as such, the attack was purely my fault." Shaking his head, the Tailor seems to consider the situation, "I always assumed he took a head wound."

A smile crosses over the Crafters face, and again he shakes his head. "On my part, I feel if he would learn to be less pushy with his beliefs, then we'd get along fine. As it is, I find myself needing to step away from time to time in order to deal with him."

Thorhur has not entered the Hall of the Royal Court in a long time. As his cloak rustles to mark his entrance, he pauses, then continues to tread softly. His eyes scan the room, and come to rest on the two ellon nearby. With a small smile he takes one step forward, and in an anxious voice, he says cheerfully, "Well met Galharth and Earsul. How do you fare this day? I was just here to give the latest report from the borders, but did not think I would see many people."

Earsul is clearly about to speak, but says nothing, interrupted by the entrance of the Sentinel. Pushing back his chair, he stands, and moves around the table towards Thorhur. "I cannot think of anyone I would rather have deliver that report this morn, mellon," he says, with a glance toward Galharth. Then, more formally, he turns back to the Sentinel. "How fare the defenses of Lothlorien, Sentinel Thorhur?"

"Well met, Thorhur." Galharth adds with a nod. Falling silent as Earsul moves to receive the report, he watches the Sentinel's expression. Shifting his balance slightly, he leans forward to rest his chin upon the top of his staff.

"The borders are clear," Thorhur says confidently, looking from Galharth to Earsul, his face showing no emotion. He pauses here, furrowing his brow slightly at the two before continuing. "We have sighted nothing in a while, except for the occasional animal. Hopefully the summer will turn out less active on our borders than the winter." With a slow movement he cocks his head slightly and asks in a voice a bit friendlier than the one he has just spoken in, "So how go affairs in the Royal Court? All is well?"

No answer is immediately forthcoming from Earsul, as the Counsel moves to a side desk, and records Thorhur's report. "Your news is well received. If there is any good left in the world, then the yrch are off fighting amongst themselves in their mountain warrens, and have forgotten us for a time." Laying the quill back on the ledger, he straightens, and turns back to face the others. "The Royal Court is busy as ever. The trip to Imladris is fast upon us, and there is much to decide. Including who will make up the party."

"After this past Winter, we certainly need more reports of quiet. The Lord and Lady will be glad to hear it." Galharth says with a nod. Glancing towards Earsul, the Tailor nods again. "It seems that Lostiriel has already made up her mind, save for one edhel." Pausing he glances towards Thorhur. His expression is blank, and he says nothing while peering at the Sentinel. Glancing once more towards Earsul, the Prefect adds, "And it seems the party is to leave in a matter of days so it won't be long before the final list is ready to present to the Lord or Lady."

Slightly suspicioius of the Tailor's glance, Thorhur's eyes travel towards Earsul. "That will be a great oppurtunity for the Royal Court to be sure." however, his smile fades slightly as he turns back to Galharth and his brow furrowed. At the same time he frowns slightly but says nothing. Instead he continues to stare at Galharth, his eyes full of curiousity and suspicion. His mouth is straight and his body is erect, but he continues to keep his mouth shut.

"A great opportunity for all involved, I would say," Earsul counters. "Including you yourself, Thorhur, for Lostiriel would have you amongst the group. But with opportunity comes risk, and that risk will be great indeed if the party cannot rely on one another." The Counsel's voice has grown stern, and his face unusually grave. "The discord between the two of you is clear as the rising sun, and unless it can be resolved here and now, then I will have to overrule Lostiriel's choice." He turns to Galharth. "What say you?"

"I have no issue." Galharth says flatly as his gaze turns to look upon the Sentinel. "Thorhur will serve well as a Guard," he adds, "As long as he understands this is a diplomatic trip first and foremost." One brow lifts in challenge as he raises his head slightly. "I'll not tolerate senseless rambling as has happened in the past."

"I had no intention of 'rambling', as you put it," Thorhur replies, accenting the word rambling in a voice tinged with annoyance and suspicion. "I understand what is to be done on this mission..." Thorhur's voice trails off as he turns away from the Tailor and says in a softer voice, "If you are refering to my meeting with Lostiriel where I asked if members of the Glirdain could come along, then I apologize. It was a moment of folly."

Earsul's eyes narrow as he sees that both are going to play it close-mouthed. "Very well, Prefect," he says to Galharth before turning to Thorhur. "Sentinel, what of your comments after the skirmish at the catapult? It's true that this is Lostiriel's mission, but she will be under Galharth's guidance, and if you did not trust his judgment then, what assurance have I that you will in future?"

Shaking his head, Galharth turns his gaze to the sky as if seekng divine intervention. "I know nothing of your meetings. That is between Lostiriel and yourself and frankly, the details never came up for discussion. Though, I've heard your rambling on about the virtues of the Glirdain over the importance of other Guilds." Rolling his eyes slightly, the Tailor lowers his gaze to glance between the Sentinel and the Counsel. "It was more that he assumed I had a say in the workings of the Order and how they handled encounters with vile beasts. Like I said, it was likely a head wound."

Thorhur tries to remain calm, collected, as he lets his bout of anger pass and turns to Earsul with a solemn demeanor, "It was no head wound, for the knowledge of Galharth. I broke my arm, and I spoke then because I was angry about having failed in my duty as a Sentinel. However, I know that Galharth has very good judgement and I know that I can trust him in it. However, I do not like events of the past that could easily be forgiven and forgotten brought to everyone's attention." Finishing his monologue, the sentinel becomes quiet and remains stone faced as he turns from Galharth to Earsul silently.

Looking from one to the other, Earsul still frowns. Eventually he sighs, shaking his head. "Very well. All is not right with the pair of you, that much is very clear to me. But if neither of you will speak openly, nor raise an issue..." he trails off, still dissatisfied. "Thorhur, I will take you at your word that you will respect Galharth's judgment. Galharth, for your part I take you at your word that you have no issue with the good Sentinel. I will raise no objection to Lostiriel's choice." The Counsel holds up a hand. "But should anything go amiss on this journey, well, it is good that you both have other pursuits to fall back on." Having said his piece, Earsul returns to the table and takes his seat once more.

"It is Lostiriel's choice, and there will be no issue." Galharth says flatly. Turning to look upon Thorhur, he pauses a moment before speaking. "Should any problem arise, I'm certain his Guard duties will keep him busy whilst we travel, and once in Imladhrim, I'll certainly be too busy to be of any significance to him." Smiling, he adds, "It's a winning situation and we can all manage by doing what we do best."

Taking a deep breath as the matter seems to settle, the Tailor takes a few steps to the ladder. "If you both will excuse me, I've a number of outfits I need to finish before we depart, and since the Courier has decided to leave quickly I'll need to hurry." With that the Crafter manuvers the ladder and disappears from sight.

As the Tailor departs, the Sentinel's face becomes red as he says, "That is acceptable. That is fine. So be it. I need to get back to my border duties." his voice is bitter, and just a whisper. With a nod to Earsul as a farewell the Sentinel exits the ladder quickly, muttering bitterly to himself all the way down and all the way to to the borders.