================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Mid Morning < About 9:55 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 54 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 16 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3040>
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RL time: Thu Mar 01 11:58:26 2007
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Weavers Talan

Participants:
Galharth
Mia
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Blossoms and ever burning coals mingle to create a strange, yet inviting scent within the Crafters Square. Adding to the scents, on this midmorning, the sounds of industry hang heavy in the air, driving any and all forward upon their tasks. Within the Weavers Talan, there is one who sits isolated in the corner, bent over in his work.

From his lips, a soft song is sung, pouring forth some measure of what might be considered magic into the embrodery of the cloth on which he labors. Stitch after stitch, the figure being created slowly takes form, and yet with those stitches there is something more, almost as if the picture itself tells a lifetime of history.

Mia flounces in from the crafters square, her ever-present basket perched on her right hip. She pauses at the door and looks at Galharth with amusement.

"It's a beautiful day, you are aware?" She querries, "And unless I am much mistaken, you could do that same task outside... in a beuatiful garden... or out in the woods." She takes a few steps into the room and looks around, "Or, you could stay here all day and miss a chance to see the day before it passes you by."

Pricking his finger as Mia interrupts, Galharth looks up with a weary glance. "I suppose I could, but such distractions can only break my concentration." Rolling his shoulders, he winces slighly as his right shoulder seems to give him some objection. "The work here will be done soon enough and I can take my leave among Lothlorien's lovely sights and sounds."

"It's been a few days, my friend. Have you heard that the Ranger Henleg visits?" the Clothier asks.

"I have heard many things over the past few days," Mia sighs as she finds a seat, "None of which has piqued my interest nearly as much as the prospect of a day possibly spent adventuring. But it isn't much fun alone, so I suppose I'll have to wait for you to finish."

She finds a short stool and places her basket on the ground at her feet before settling down. "But since you are going to force me to wait, we'll need to fill this time doing something, so you might as well tell me about the human and his latest visit to the Golden Wood? As an aside, I can't help but wonder if, perhaps, he has grown to love our home too much, as he spends so much of his time here." Mia grows suddenly, but passingly, thoughtful.

Turning back to his work, the ellon wipes away the bead of blood drawn forth from the needle prick. "Do you blame him, from the stories told, by both the Rangers and our own kind as well, the lands to the east, and perhaps all around us are littered with a evils." Pausing a moment, he repositions his needle over the fair reflection of the Lady Mia, "You of all folk can tell the tales to curdle the blood within our veins, and indeed, you could likely cause the eternal flickers of our souls to retreat and cower."

Closing his eyes his appears to attempt to focus his concentration. A few soft words are expressed from his lips in song, and with it a few stitches are sewn into the fabric portrait. "Ack, this is too much...." he mutters as he pushes away his work. 'Perhaps your visit is fortunate, the quilt of memory can wait."

Mia laughs, "You make it all sound so maudelin and dramatic! Curdling blood, indeed! Fortunate it is, then, that I am as light and carefree as I seem to be. Wouldn't you agree?" She asks with a rise in her eyebrows. "Consider it the culmination of a misspent youth, a lass who lost her way! More interesting, I think, is what I have accomplished now... though I may be the only one. I mean, tell me, does anyone notice that I have convinced the white roses to turn red?" Mia shakes her head. "And what are you going on about, the Quilt of Memory? What ARE you working on over there?"

A deep breath is first inhaled and then released as the Clothier clears his mind of both song and labors. "You've changed over time, for whatever reason, you are not the same elleth you were ten years past." Galharth says with a queer conviction. "White roses to Red? It is more an effort of blood stained to that of a pure soul for you. It is a story of epic proportions and one that must never be forgotten."

Silence falls and Galharth looks upon the quilt being constructing. "Nothing must be forgotten, no deed or effort." he adds with a small measure of guilt.

Mia smiles softly, her eyes misty with memory, "It has been an adventure, I will say that. But I cannot lie and say that it was all a horrid mistake and I should have thought on it all much longer before... Well, before maneuvering myself into something that I didn't fully understand. Because it was a great adventure, and I saw things that I don't think I shall ever forget. So do not fret, for as long as I draw breath, I will remember." She leans forward now, eyebrows furrowing, "But you didn't answer my question. What IS this quilt?"

"It's an aplogy of sorts," Galharth mutters softly without looking directly at his friend. "For me, adverture or not, I can't forget and in some cases forgive my own actions." Fingering the few embrodered portraites completed, he stalls. "Sometimes one's actions require a token when asking forgiveness....perhaps the quilt will be accepted as such."

Mia laughs, "What do you need to ask forgiveness for, Galharth? I do believe you are one of the quietest, self-posessed people I have yet to meet, unable to hurt a fly and unwilling to even think about it! Who have you wronged and in what manner? Don't tell me you made a dress in cream instead of ecru, or attempted a gathered waist when it should have been Empire?"

"You tease me so...." the Clothier says with a frown. lowering his gaze, his left hand seeks out one of the completed portrait panels. "Do you recall that prank we played within the Lady's chambers?" he asks meekly, "It was of course great fun, but certainly a squirrel and the Lady paid the price for our fun." Focusing intently upon the quilt panel, it almost appears as if Galharth is reluctant to look up. "It seems fitting that an apology be issued...."

"Oh, you can't be serious?" Mia asks, incredulously. "For a harmless prank? Okay, so it caused a bit of a mess, but really, what more was there to it than that?" She pauses, shakes her head and sighs, "Maybe an apology to the squirrel, at the very least, but to Galadriel?" Again, she shakes her head, "Are you ashamed of the joke? Ashamed that you caused a bit of lighthearted fun for the Lady? Trust me, she could do with more laughter in her life, she could use more harmless distractions, and if you go apologizing for each and every one you participate in... well.... I won't let you help me anymore!" She nods, satisfied.

"NOw, were you to take a more cavalier attitude and present the Lady with a gift, a present for being the bright ray of light that she is, then I would support you whole-heartedly... but not if it is to be a crutch for you to beg forgiveness!"

"I do not beg forgiveness!" Galharth snaps. "I give it to acknowledge that I will not forget. There IS a difference." Sweeping the finished portraits away from the unfinished one's the clothier lifts a blazing glaze toward his friend. "I admit wrong doing, however humorous it might have been... and it was funny, I do NOT deny."

The clothier's gaze can not hold, and his eyes drop to inpect the floor. "I just feel that one must acknowlege and make amends for ones trangressions before one can move forward."

Mia shakes her head, lips pursed slightly. "This is one point where you and I differ, then, for I do not see what we did as being a transgression. Except, maybe, to the squirrel. And no matter how strongly you might protest, you feel guilty about this, ultimatey, else you would not be so set to apologise and try to make ammends." She sighs, slowly letting the air out through flaring nostrils, mouth pursed more than before. For long moments she looks at the ellon, breathing, until finally she speaks again, her tone resigned. "And since you feel so strongly about it," again she sighs, "I suppose I will have to support you in this, so that you may clear your conscience. I cannot believe I am agreeing to this.... But do not for a moment think that I feel the same way! I can be supportive without fully understanding the motivation. I suppose."

At the mention of the squirrel, a pained expression flashes over the Clothiers face. "Perhaps it is the squirrel that brings forth my feelings of remorse, but regardless, when I apologize, I will not speak of my association with you so there is no need to feel the same way, or any way for that matter." From both tone and body language, Galharth projects a sicerity for his conviction. "I will in fact feel better taking responsibility for my actions." he says firmly, "Good or bad, at least then I shall move forth."

A flicker of light, or something remarkably close to mischief flickers in the Clothier's eyes, as he peers intently into the lady's face. "It is only then that we can find something more interesting to do."

"The squirrel should be easy enough to locate, wouldn't you think?" Mia asks, "I just don't understand why you are taking this so much to heart. If, indeed, it is not to be the last of our exploits in Lothlorien, then you will have to do something about these missplaced feelings. What fun is a joke if it makes you feel horrid until you apologize profusely and beg for forgivenenss? Though, I'll admit, that in itself might prove to be fairly entertaining... for awhile. So this quilt is the apology, then? And you are giving time and blood to make it? Well, let it never be said that you aren't determined."

"It is but a demonstration that memories are not to be forgotten, as I will not forget what I have done." Galharth says firmly. With a week shrug, with some favoritism towards his right shoulder, he adds, "it doesn't mean that I will not repeat the action, only that I apologize and will not forget for this one."

With a flicker of the fingers upon his left hand, he motions to the door. "I'll come join you in the garden's later, when my work is done."

Mia sighs and gets to her feet, collecting her basket as she heads towards the door. "You will join me, and I will take a look at your shoulder. No wonder if you have injured it, you are carrying quite a weight upon them these days." She pauses before leaving and gives Galharth a wry grin, "I have never forgotten any of my actions, and I claim them happily as my own. I am quite proud of what I have accomplished, and I hope that you will, one day, too."

"Perhaps I'll feel the same. Who is to say what time will bring." Galharth says warmly, "Till then, I can only ask that you allow for my quirks. Certainly, I'm not the first you've known with such oddities."

Reaching for a quilt panel, he smoothes it out an then looks up to look upon his friends face. "I'll join you later, I perhaps I'll even allow you a moment to inspect my shoulder," the Clothier says with a wink, "Perhaps after you inspect it, you'll find that I do not bear a weight upon either my shoulder or my hip."

"Oh, this is not a weight, Galharth," Mia replies with a grin. "It is joy and wonder in woven form! Now get back to work and make it quick, as you WILL allow me to look at that shoulder." With a swirl of satined fabric, and a laugh as light as crystal, she is gone.