================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dawn < About 6:38 AM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 55 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waning 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: Tue Nov 20 12:12:55 2007
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Golden Roadway - Northern Arc - Garden Shelter

You stand in an exceptionally large clearing high atop the great hill of Caras Galadhon, and along the Golden Roadway. This clearing is different than the others in that a sloping roof has been built over it providing many places to hang lanterns, tapestries, or hammocks among the pillars and beams. It appears someone has actually left a hammock hanging from the roof, though it looks quite small. Unlike a protected gazebo, though, there are no railings to protect careless creatures from tripping and rolling all the way down to the bottom of the hill.

To the south, partially following the westward curving road, a great piece of the hill has been roughed out and flattened. From this direction, the fragrant smell of flowers seem to pass through the area. As well, a small garden path lined with low cut bushes and small violets disappears in that direction.

Galharth
Turwaithiel
Nioniel
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The brilliant colors of dawn bubble upon the eastern horizon, bringing forth a competition between night and day. The stars, still visible in the sky, now sit within a background of grey. The wind rushes forth from the east, as if heralding the coming day with its seductive warmth. The Bard who had grown soft in their song now increase their volume, setting a lovely sound to the beauty that now comes forth.

The coming day, while new is an active one for the Tailor. With a bundle in one hand hand, and his staff in the other, he moves quickly as with purpose. "Last delivery, and I'm free to go," he mutters softly to himself.

Turwaithiel is wondering though the garden. For it is lovely in all times of the day but she enjoys it most in the morning. There is something about the dew on the blossoms that makes them seem even lovier. She is sure that if she thinks hard enough that there is something she could be doing, but for now she is happy to spend the morning here. The sound of a voice catches her ear and she turns to see who it might be. "Are you really? For if I did not see a bundle under your arm I fear I may not know it was you."

Response to his words give the Tailor pause, and he comes to a halt that sends his robes swaying around his form. Turning, he catches sight fo Turwaithiel and offers a smile. "Ah, Turwaithiel! Well met," Galharth says as he takes a few steps to close the distance between them. "I suppose what you say is fair, for it seems each time we've met I've been in the midst of doing some sort of delivery." Glancing over the edge of the garden that spills forth to the roadway, the Crafter smiles, "T'is a beautiful morn, but I suppose this is what brings you out here at this hour." Looking back towards the elleth, he lifts a brow, "Isn't it?"

Turwaithiel nods. "Of course I am sure there are other things that need my attention. But on a morning such as this it seems like a shame to waste it by not enjoying it. I think it is the time of the year every thing is in bloom and colorfull. Not that other times of the year do not have their charm as well." She lets her gaze roam around to the scene before her. "I have said it before but this has to be one of the loviest places in the wood. Every thing is so in bloom and alive."

"I can not argue your words, for they speak a truth for which I agree," Galharth says with a smile. "I would likely be doing the same, but this one last delivery will see an end to my work until my return from Imladhrim." Lifting the package slightly, he drops his gaze to the neatly wapped garment. "It is Thoniel's dress for her wedding, and while it needs to go to the Lady herself, it is moreso needed by Nioniel so that she might create Arahisie's robes."

Turwaithiel nods. "Ah I see, it is good that you get it done then. For it would be a poor thing to return home and find much work waiting for you. I am sure that the dress will be lovely, though I marvel at the fact Thoniel to agree to wear a gown in the first place. So those that are going to Imladhrim are leaving soon then?"

Looking up from the package, the Tailor's face radiates confidence and a hint of joy. "It is most beautiful. It is simple in both cut and accents, but it is done so in a manner that draws attention to she who will wear the dress. It is sure to be a sight that will bring forth joy." Galharth says with enthusiasm. When his words pause, he chuckles. "Alas, I speak of my craft and you have in the past warned me that you might tune me out if I spoke to deeply of it."

Turwaithiel can not help raise an eye brow. "So you do you remember that. I think though I may make an exception for wedding gown or when I am curious. Besides all brides look stunning on their wedding day no matter what they wear. Though with bride I would have guessed that it would be simple. I share the same idea and hate being bound in yards of material that can take forever to get on and prevents freedom of motion. A bit like being a gift I think."

"At it is true, all brides do look stunning, so it is a challenge beyond compare to create a garment that actually accents that beauty and brings forth even more than normally presents." Galharth says softly as if considering the dress that now rests within his hands. Tilting his head slightly he peers carefully at Turwaithiel. "I would not have guessed that you prefer a simple dress, for when I look upon you I do see an elleth that has an eye for beautiful things. Or," the Tailor pauses as he speaks. Straightening his head, his gaze intensifies, "Perhaps the eye I seem to think you have is not for cloth, but perhaps for wood, metal, or gems. Could this be?"

Turwaithiel pauses to think for moment. "Both I would think. But when it comes to gowns that are elegant I would see them on others. For though they are beautifull to look on they hender movement and I am always worried about harming such things. As for what I find beauty in I would say all things can be beautifull. It would depend on how it is used, a harp or a sword can be equally as beautifull. It alkl depends on how the eye of its user or wearer sees it."

"My own sword is a work of beauty." Galharth says softly, "It was a plain weapon handed down over time, and in recent times I had a jewelsmith add artistic work to it so to make it less a weapon of use and more a weapon to carry proudly." The Tailor's smile fades slightly and he draws a deep breath. "It was luck that recovered it from my captivity. It was seen perhaps as to frilly for the hands of an Uruk so was discarded when they left our northern border."

Turwaithiel pauses for a moment to allow the words to sink in. "Yes I do have a foundnessfor more artistic pieces of swords and the like." She stops to consider what to say next. "I would think that would be the case for the Uruk care not for things like beauty and honor. I wonder if there was ever a time when they knew such tbings, though I doubt they have ever though of some thing as beautifull, perhaps they should be pittied for that though I find myself unable to."

"If one judges the foul beasts by their smell, their clothing, the crude weapons they carry, and their overall attitude, they care not for beauty." Galharth says as his voice grows grave and somewhat distant. "They crave power, and care not enough about eachother to stop even stepping upon friend and foe alike." Falling silent for a moment, the Tailor suddenly shakes his head as if to dismiss his darker thoughts. "Forgive me Turwaithiel, I still find some difficulty thinking on matters of our enemies."

Shifting his position and his point of balance, the crafters smile returns. "If swords and such hold your interest, you are welcome to visit the forges to watch our weaponsmiths at work. Sadly they are somewhat overworked so they might not always welcome company, but their work is fair and a joy to see."

Turwaithiel allows for a few momwnts to pass. "There is nothing to forgive. Truely it is. Some of the swords and the like are so beautifull that it almost seems a shame that they are put to sude. But there is no reason for such things to be placed on a wall only to look at. For they would be wasted if they were only looked upon, I think."

Furrowing his brow, the Tailor seems to be considering something before he speaks. "Turwaithiel, be wary, for when one shows such interests they soon find themselves enlisted in the most unexpected of jobs." Shifting again, Galharth's hand slids a few inches down along his staff. "We are in great need of weaponsmith, for you know well that edhel favor beauty in all things including the article that might bring death to those who would end out existence. So many have sailed in the last thousand years that our need has become great."

The brief, but wonderously peaceful time which dawn spends on the earth each day seems to fly by all too quickly for the likes of Nioniel. So it is hardly odd to see her strolling aimlessly across the wide clearing which leads to the garden shelter during the pale morning hours. Today, spotting the tailor, Galharth and Turwaithiel together there, she smiles and quickens her step to approach them. However, upon entering, her smile vanishes. She sees the serious expressions of the other elves and stops in her tracks. "I ... hope I haven't interupted anything. You both look so solemn ... I am sorry."

Turwaithiel stops to think for a moment. "Now that you speak of it you are right. I do not recall seeing many a weapon smith for a great while now. There are many who have sailed of late, can understand why they would wish to do so. But for myself I think there are a great many things that are yet to be done and could not yet bare the thought of leaving yet." Her head turns to see the approach of Nioniel and smiles at her approach. "Nothing so solem, and you are not interupting please come join and tell me how you fair this morning?"

"Nioniel! Well met!" Galharth says. From his voice and his expression, it is clear that the Tailor is glad to see the Seamstress. "And no you do not interrupt, in fact, you 've saved me the remainder of my trip." Shifting his posture, he offers Nioniel the package he holds. "This is Thoniel's wedding dress. Since you now work upon Arahisie's robes, I thought the dress would come as some help in matching or contrasting fabrics and colors. When you've viewed what you need from the dress, I trust you to deliver the dress to the Bride."

Turning towards Turwaithiel, the Craftmaster nods. "There is indeed much to be done, and evem more to preserve says I. So tell me, lady, would you accept the tasking of a weaponsmith?" Clearly, he is anxious to fill a need within the wood.

Brightening up a little, but still somewhat reservedly so, Nioniel nods in return to Turwaithiel's welcoming words: "I fair well enough this morning."

Smiling warmly at Galharth, she accepts the package containing Thoniel's wedding gown gladly. "I'm glad that I saved you the rest of your trip. It is good we met, then." Like an inquisitve child, she lifts the corner fold of the package to peek at the treasure within, "Ah! This will be a great help to me, mellon," she grins.

Turwaithiel is slightly taken back for a moment. That was not the reply she expected. But there was a need and it was something she would not mind. Gathering her thoughs she replied. "I did not expect this but I am honored none the less and would take it." She glanced at Noiniel looking beneath the covering on the package. "Alas I have to wait till the day of the wedding to see the dress but I trust it is wonderfull."

"The trip saved is the shortest I am to take in the days to come, so the fortune of finding you is welcomed indeed, Nioniel." Galharth says with a warm smile. "Please tell Thoniel that I wish her well should she wed before we return."

The smile remains upon the Craftmasters face as he dips his now free hand into his robe. Withdrawing a wooden ring scribed with beautiful scrollwork, he offers it to Turwaithiel in an open hand. "Then take this, Turwaithiel, and all shall know you to be an apprentice in the crafters of Lothlorien."

Nioniel chuckles softly at Galharth's reply. There seems to be some faint worry though which clouds in her deep blue eyes at the mention of his fast approaching trip. However, she speaks in a more light-hearted manner, almost jokingly after a moment: "I do hope nothing goes amiss during your journey ... if for no other reason than I do not wish to remain in charge of the sewing indefinately here!"

Turning to the other, fairly beaming in Turwaithiel's direction, Nioniel says, "I do hope that you will accept the possition. I'm sure that you would excel at it, indeed, should you do so."

Turwaithiel takes the ring and places it upon a finger it will fit. "Indeed but surely nothing will go wrong it is not so far after all. I agree though if you do not return I may never again see Nioniel for she will be fairly drowning in fabric. I would have to drop by every now and then if only to make sure she was still breathing." She shifted her gaze to Noiniel. "Thank you some one needs to do it after all." A brief pause and a smile. "Besides if I did not I would never hear the end of it. Though I admit it is something I shall enjoy doing."

A strange look crosses over the Craftmasters face. It almost appears as if he'd just been gifted with a treasure that he had just spent a lifetime hoping for. "The Golden Wood has gained this day, and it will be a short time till word gets out, and you are tested in the skills you are sure to learn in the weeks to come." Lifting his chin slightly, his smile fades a moment. "You're first task Turwaithiel is to obtain proper clothing for your time in the forges. A dress is not suitable, and you'll need proper protection from both flame and metals. Once clothed, you are charged to learn the art of metals, and their forging." Removing his hand, he places it aside his other on his wooden staff.

Turning to Nioniel his smile returns. "I worry little on the trouble that might come," Galharth says with a chuckle, "It seems to find me even when I have no wish to be found, so I think I've learned to just accept and react to that which might come." Again he chuckles and steps back. "Nioniel, I promise that your efforts will in the long run be rewarded. And speaking of efforts, clearly Turwaithiel has needs that only you can fulfil."

Shetifling her laughter without much success, Nioniel smiles mirthfully at both Galharth and Turwaithiel, "Ai, I can just see myself buried under mounds of fabric, buttons and thread! My dog, Calion will have to dig me out and rescue me if that happens."

Pausing to reflect on what the tailor says of trouble, she nods in agreement: "Yes, I suppose it is for the best to view things that way. Still, I will be very glad when I see you return safe and sound, all in one piece!" After a second more of silent pondering, she suddenly seems a little puzzled, "Needs that only I can fulfil?"

Turwaithiel shrugs. " I do not understand it either. Perhaps he is being vague for a reason. As far as Calion digging you out he is so small its seems he would be trapped as well. If I see him caught in a great deal of fabric I will know what happened. But at least after the wedding there should be no great need for clothing all at once. That is of as long as there is no other wedding in the near future, but that is unlikely."

Again the Tailor steps back, "I have great faith in you Nioniel. Worry not of your duties, and instead enjoy them for what they are. You have a moment to create, and that alone is a treasure."

Taking a step along the Roadway, Galharth chuckles. "Turwaithiel will need proper clothing Nioniel. An outfit of pants, boots, and a shirt and perhaps a vest to wear under leather aprons. I trust you will see to it for her." And with that, the ellon departs, disappearing into the light of coming day.

Turwaithiel shakes her head. "I should have thought of that. You will be on your own here every soon. This way you will get much experience with being one of those we look to clothe us. Truely though I do not know how I feel about this whole venture perhaps I am simply being foolish but I can not help but think something will go wrong." She pauses for a moment. "Enough of such thoughts I wonder how much begging it took to get Thoniel to agree to appear in public in that dress."

Nioniel smiles as her friend, the tailor departs, and waves lightly after him. More to herself than anything, she says, "He always seems to restore faith in myself when I talk to him." Truning back to Turwaithiel, she shifts the package containing Thoniel's dress to her left arm and eyes the new apprentice weaponsmith appraisingly: "Ah, yes ... come to think of it, you will need something more utilitarian than a dress for the kind of work you are about to endevor. The forge is no place for skirts, to be sure.

Chuckling at her words, Nioniel grins, "As to your first statement, I think you are neither foolish, nor will anything go wrong. And as to the second .... Well, it's hard to say how much begging it took. I wish I had been there," she says with a wink."

Turwaithiel nods. "Which is one the pleasent things about it, the lack of skirts. I find it will be a wonderfull excuse to get of them for a while at least. As for the dress perhaps they ambushed her when she least expected it. I heard it si simple though and I could not seeing it being another way this bride. I do not know how she would endure the ceremony otherwise. I do not know how I will for that matter." She stopped for a second to picture the scene. "I look forward to the whole afair but I am no fan of extremely formal clothing myself though I will endure for such a joyfull day, and I must admit to being curious as to the guests clothing as much as the happy couple."

Still looking extremely thoughtful on the matter of the forge outfit in need of designing, Nioniel's reactions are subdued. She smiles at the thought of the wedding day also, and her eyes twinkle merrily. "Ah well, what is the harm in one day of formal wear, though? Such events happen so infrequently, it is a pleasure to break out the fancy materials every now and then."

Tilting her head to the side, she glances at Turwaithiel as a whole once more, "I am glad you will find it liberating to forego the skirts while you work. I think I shall get as much out enjoyment out of making it as you will out of wearing it."

Turwaithiel nods. "Yes it does give a reason to wear our finest. Things have been quiet lately I think this wedding is just the thing to break up the patterns of out every days lives. I do hope the groom manages though the ceremony alright, when last I spoke to him he was quiet nervous in the way our grooms are though they will not admit it.'

Laughter escapes Nioniel once more, "Yes, I know. I've spoken to him recently myself as I am making his outfit for the wedding ... and he seems to be quite distracted by the whole affair. He shouldn't be though. I believe he and Thoniel have a bright, happy future ahead of them, despite all the rumors of darkening clouds which come our way now and then."

Turwaithiel nods. "Ah eys those rumors, well we are here now and for now life is peacefull. If we focus only on the shadows of a future that may be we miss living in such a glorius day like today and I must get things done no matter how lovely it is though it has been a pleasure speaking with you."