================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Night < About 2:40 AM >
IC day is: Orbelain <Valar-day>
IC date is: 6 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: First Quarter <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 15 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3039>
----------------------------------------------------------------------
RL time: Wed Oct 11 16:13:40 2006
=====================================================================
Secluded Clearing
You have entered a small secluded part of the Finrim Gardens. Here, hidden behind a living wall of rose bushes and glistening evergreen trees, sits a bubbling spring surrounded by a tiny clearing of cool green grass, parted and stamped in several places. Soft murmurings whisp about the clearing as the spring gurgles steadily and gently. Warm sunlight beams down from the heavens and the water sparkles invitingly as well as the slightly parted stones embedded in the sides of the spring.

Participants:
Galharth
Elnara
Curulomion
=====================================================================

Though the golden leaves above, the stars sparkle brightly in the late hours of night. As if to celebrate the stars presence, the leaves dance upon a light breeze that blows over the land. Though late, a sweet song seems to sing in time with the dancing of the leaves. It is this pleasant setting that draws Galharth out into the night to wander through the gardens to inspect the work that the lady Mia had spoken of the day before.

Curulomion is there as well, but his path leads him to other purposes. In the hot springs he pauses before them, then starts to disrobe, slowly. His eyes are for the stars as he works with removing his clothing and he is humming softly, sadly, under his breath. Marble-white skin gleams in the moonlight as it is slowly revealed from the sable cloth covering it. Galharth remains unmarked for now...but the jewelsmith's humming is enough to draw attention.

"Good tidings!" Galharth calls out, recognizing Curulomion through the wall of roses that surrounds the springs. "I see that the night draws forth others." Moving through the gate he pauses to inspect a delicate bloom. "I hope I'm not disturbing you..." he adds hesitantly.

Curulomion looks up, half undressed. His is a perfect body, the muscles powerfully sculpted, and he is not shy about showing it. He wriggles out of his leggings, leaving him clad in nothing at all, totally nude. "The night always calls me forth, Galharth," comes the grim answer. "But no, you do not disturb me. Indeed, I would be honoured if you would join me. The waters are very soothing. I pulled a muscle in the forges and need the soothing."

"To be honest, my work holds too much options for relaxation so I've no need of soothing this eve." Galharth says with a chuckle. "Our crafts require different levels of exertion so instead I seek some level of exercise." Drawing closer to the spring, the Clothier eyes a dry spot near the edge of the water. "I would however enjoy the company. Tell me, have you seen the human within the wood? His name is Henleg, and he says he dwells in Imladhrim."

Curulomion slides into the waters, letting them foam about his neck. "I have not seen any human here," he answers, one hand stroking his osprey pendant. "I do not even think I wish to. For one thing I could not speak to him. I understand and speak only Sindarin and Quenya. I do not understand Westron. But it is interesting that he dwells within Elrond's halls. He must have some relationship to our kindred then, though what I cannot say."

All that Curulomion says seems to fade to the side, as Galharth find interest in the pendant. "Forgive my interest mellon, but I find myself curious about your pendant. In both our meetings it seems to draw your thoughts in some manner. Is this a piece you've fashioned or one gifted to you?" Settling down upon the ground, he crosses his legs into a comfortable posture before returning his attention to the Jewelsmith to await some response.

Curulomion strokes the pendant again, cupping the flying sea-hawk in his hand. "It was gifted to me," he says quietly. "Atto was a jewelsmith also and he crafted this especially for me. It was his last gift to me before he and Amme went to Valinor. He hung it about my neck on the very quays." He raises his head, eyes growing distant. "It was about this time of year that they left." There is a hint of pain in the normally emotionless voice.

"Did their departure bring them happiness or did they depart with sadness?" Galharth asks with interest. As soon as he spoke, the ellon seems to regret his words and he hold up a hand as if to hold back any forthcoming words. "Forgive me, I spoke perhaps with too much intimacy. It is of course no of my business." Shifting his seat, the ellon lowers his head. "I discussed a similar topic with the human I mentioned. I think the topic has drawn an odd curiosity as a result."

Curulomion shakes his head slowly. "The departure was in great sadness," he answers, his tone soft again. "It would seem that every aspect of me is someone else's business. I do not mind, one grows used to it after a time. I do not know the human in question so I cannot say if he is curious about you or not. I do not find you odd. Curious yes but not odd. I was curious myself when I was younger. Ever curious to learn more of the secrets of jewelwork. At times Atto had some trouble keeping up with me and my thrist for knowledge."

"I am sorry that saddness surrounded Atto's departure." The Clothier says with sincerity. Taking a deep breath, he glances at the Jewelsmith. "As with those from my own family who've departed, there is not way for those left behind to know if sadness turned to joy at the end of the journey until we ourselves take the trip and are reunited. Would it not be a cruel thing to find that any melancholy we feel as a result of a departure is ill placed?" Shrugging his shoulders and turning his gaze to the steam rising from the spring Galharth seems to consider his own words. Then as if finally registering all of Curulomion's words, he chuckles. "In my family, time and age never tempers curiosity. As I am now, I will be a thousand years from now."

Curulomion nods. "It would be," he says slowly. "I like to think my parents remember me but I hope the memory does not grieve them overmuch. In time my own turn will to sail. Sooner rather than later...I have heard the cry of the gulls and the song of the waves. Even have I seen an osprey, the great sea-hawk. I was once curious and I still am to some degree but being alone so long has turned me dark and bitter."

The sun rises over the trees, flashing on the leaves of the mellyrn.

Again Galharth's gaze turns to the Jewelsmith, and for several moments he seems to inspect the ellon's face for something. With a tilt of his head, a slight curve reaches the corner of the Clothier's mouth. "All is not dark and bitter, mellon. You yourself have said that you marry soon, so the days of solitude is soon to end for you." Turning his gaze skyward, the evening light draws forth a warm glow upon the ellon's skin. "Have you spoken with your lady about the offer I made?" he asks, speaking to the sky as he searches out the position of the stars.

Curulomion nods his head. "True," he answers, submerging briefly. "I have not yet had a chance to speak to Elnara...my work has kept me rather busy. But I will do so soon, very soon. I know it will take time to make such clothing and I will admit to having rather grand tastes, even if I do wear but black. It is in the quality of the material that my tastes show. My present set is of satin, in exchange for a finely wrought bracelet."

"A fair trade," Galharth comments after a moment consideration. "You and the Clothier did well in the bargin." Chuckling softly, he drops his gaze from the sky. "While I carry the title of Apprentice, my own bartering will gain me much less." Touching the fabric of his own tunic, he seems to consider the quality and durability. "Satin is nice, but I'll have other fabrics to show you when the time comes to begin construction of your wedding suit. I've one project planned for the moment, but when that's complete I'd like to arrange for a meeting in the Weavers talan to discuss the selections. Shall I send a message to the forges or is there another place in which I can send word?"

Curulomion considers. "YOu can send word to my talan in the Aderthad tree or send to the jewelsmiths' forge. Either way I will receive it. I am sure what you find will be interesting. It is a pity it cannot be black, I so dislike white. But I did give my word and I will not go back upon it. Though perhaps I should, sometime, comission a few things off of you if I like your work with my wedding garb. Every few years one does need to refit one's wardrobe. Some of my things are getting a bit worn, I will admit. Not that it matters too much since I am so oft in the dark that it is hard for anyone to see the state of my clothes...but I am proud and I like to look good."

"Very well, word will be sent when I'm ready, and I'd be glad for any work that you might think to send." Rising to his feet, Galharth stretches his back and looks to Curulomion with amusement. "One day in white with the remainder of your lifetime as you wish. It is a small price for a lady's love." Drawing his hands behind his back to clasp comfortably, the Clothier takes a step towards the gate. "The night air calls and urges me to return to my wanderings, so till a later date I wish you a good eve, mellon."

With that Galharth leaves the Spring and wanders forth into the garden, seemingly to enjoy the evening air.

Curulomion nods and raises a dripping hand in farewell. "Good night to you, Galharth."