4/15/2008
================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dawn < About 5:00 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 3 Firith <Fading>
Moon phase: Last Quarter <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 19 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3043>
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RL time: Tue Apr 15 19:40:21 2008
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Weaver's Talan
Woven intricately about and throughout the branches of this tree, this talan of the weaver is. Overhead is but the canopy of blossoming branches, rays of sun jubilantly dancing through the openings, starlight also peering through in its own turn. Many a lantern hang overhead; ready to be lit when the light becomes too dim for the weaver to work. A pile of baskets dominates one corner; dusty, the majority unused, and apparently made many a year ago. A loom is set in front and to the side of the baskets, sometimes still, but many a time click-clacking away merrily. A wheel used for spinning wool and other raw material into thread stands proudly next to the loom, ahead of the baskets, but the feeling of overcrowding is not present in the least here.

On the opposite side of the talan is a large oblong table laden with many things, a small glass box in the far left corner, and a contraption holding several large bobbins of thread at the far right. Three pots, each smaller than the next, stand together on the table along one side; three gossipers who are only silent while the weaver works. The tallest holds many rolled-up scrolls, the one of medium height and build holding beads of shiny glass, the last and smallest of the trio holding needles and pins. Two mannequins stand next to the table, used to hold works-in-progress when needed.

Contents:
Galharth
Niinaeth

The light of dawn casts a delicate light over the Golden Wood of Lothlorien, filling the city with rich white and warm yellow light, sending the shadows into memory. Few sounds are heard this morn, as the residents of the city begin to move and being activities of the day. Like most within the Gwaith-i-Thein, the activities within the Weavers Talan is in full swing as light filters into the workshop.

"I'm going to need 12 yards of green silk, and 30 of the white." Galharth says as he peers into his journal. "Twelve silver buttons, and 8 pearl," he adds, looking up from his journal he furrows his brow. "Though I could manage with crystal gems in place of the pearls." Clearly, it's business as usual.

This dawn has found one other wandering alone in thought, the same as she has done for many hours. And it is to the weavers talan her thoughts have brought her. The one place she knows where what she searches for may in fact be found. As Niinaeth enters, she tilts her head to Galharth's words, her golden hair spilling over a slender shoulder, "I will take that offer. Many crystal gems have been found in the mines. Though they come with a small price."

"Small as in human proportions of children. One no more than 8 years another I believe 10. The question is Galharth, are you willing to take the gems as payment for what I seek?"

Turning to the sound of the Ministers voice, the Tailor looks almost dumbstruck. "Human children?" he says as if presented with some foreign concept. "I've never even seen the offspring of a human so I can not hope to compare."

"They are like our own, Master. Only less sturdy." One of the weavers calls out helpfully.

Pausing to look at the weaver, the Galharth frowns. "I suppose...." he mutters softly, though not fully completing his thoughts as he turns his gaze to the Minister. "No bargain is required, mellon. I am glad to make all that you need." the Craftsmaster says with a smile. "But humans? What human child has any needs that we might fulfil?"

"Yes human. The boy of 10 I once gave a moonstone to or rather to his father to present to him." The silver twinkle in the Ministers eyes can not be mistaken and she turns toward Galharth with a grin, "And I believe you made a cloak for his father as well. One that became a bit tattered in his travels? Now I find he has also a daughter."

As she places her slender ivory hands behind her back, she comes up on the toes slightly with a bounce, "And as such I find I can not have one given a gift without the other receiving as well. While I know they live in Imladris, the truth of the matter is, none can compare to what you have done. I would like to see them have something of ours. A Galadrhim cloak is of course out of the question, howver, Im sure your mind can design something that would remind them there are others who care."

"You wish clothing for these children?" Galharth says softly as his expression grows distant in thought. "Any Garment that I might make is of little use to these people, as time and growth place them out of use." the Tailor says as he lifts a finger to his chin. "Perhaps a quilt? Something that might be a testament to their lives and their fathers sacrifice?" His eyes grow distant as he considers his words. "Something that would keep them warm and protected when the world seems to grow cold and lonely?"

In a human likeness, Niinaeth snaps her fingers, "Thats it! Yet it must contain some piece of Lothlorien. Something that can not be found in Imladris.." She reaches to scratch her nose and furrows her brows for a moment before her eyes go wide, "And I know just what it is. I shall return. Wish me luck, Im not certain this will even work." With her final words she nods and leaves the talan at a brisk walk.

Lifting a brow, the Tailor watches in silence as the Minister makes her remarks. His silence remains though mingled with a look of confusion as he watches her depart the talan. Shrugging his shoulders after a moment, the Craftsmaster quickly returns to his work, pushing aside the strange conversation until later.