September 28, 2001

Western Porch
Between the rear face of Brethil Hall and the western side of Amon Obel's summit, where it begins to drop off, is contructed a wide deck, extending in some places precepitously to the railing bedecked edge. A wide view is afforded, most especially westward. Wooden chairs and tree-trunks layed out lengthwise offer benches to sit upon and spend some time.

Spread across the porch are several wide tables graced with simple yet finely stitched snowy white cloths. The center table contains a wide array of dishes laden with an assortment of foods, from the first strawberries of the season accompanied with dishes of clotted cream, to freshly roasted meats and vegetables, as well as baskets of fresh-baked breads and rolls, and several cakes and pies.

Lady Emeldir sits off to one side, surveying the feast, her infant Baraliel snoozing for the time being in a wicker basket beside her.

Stepping out of the hall into the summertime heat, Leana blinks a few times at the scene laid out. The young apprentice smith has been apparently forcibly cleaned up for the occasion -- her clothes bear no trace of ashes or soot, and her hair has been neatly braided back from her face. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, seeming somewhat awkward, and then promptly finds a place leaning against the outer wall of Brethil Hall, silent.

First checking on Baraliel to ensure the young lass rests comfortably, Emeldir rises and smiles to the young smith. She dips her head, beckoning Leana to join, "Please, help yourself, milady," she offers politely. "Tis only a small measure of the gratitude I owe to the people of Brethil, who have been so gracious and helpful," she adds softly in explanation of the feast.

Entering the porch from the hall, Aldawin notices at first the abundant spread of food set upon the tables. But the healer's gaze is only upon them a moment and set to looking rather for the familiar form of Emeldir. "Hello, Lee," she greets the smithy's apprentice as her gaze settles upon Leana, before continuing her search. Seeing the Lady then, the healer steps forward, a greeting given to the elder healer. "Lady Emeldir!" She smiles, the grey gaze dropping to the infant in the wicker basket at the other's side. "Ahh..there she is." Aldawin looks once more to Emeldir. "I trust you are doing well, Lady?"

Appearing at the entrance of the hall only a moment after Aldawin, Finnabair draws to a halt, struck by the riot of colour climbing up in the sky with the slow setting of the sun. There she is held a moment by the reds, soft pinks and purples that spread out gently over the top of the forest that circles round the hill, casting a golden light across the long porch. Dressed plainly and with none of the usual weapons or armour about her, the Beorian woman carries on past the ladden tables toward the place where Emeldir sits with Aldawin just before her, "M'lady.", she says, giving over a nod to the healer as well before bending forward slightly to peer curiously down at the child at her side.

The lady beams warmly as first Aldawin then Finnabair step onto the porch, approaching her with greetings. Dipping her head to Aldawin, Emeldir returns the greetly, "Good even to ye, milady. Tis good to see ye, and to be back in Amon Obel," she shares, looking now to Finnabair, espying her interest in the wicker basket where Baraliel rests. "And Finna! It has been far to long since we have met!" she exclaims softly, her glance turning to the basket. "And high time to introduce ye to my daughter... Baraliel," she adds. "I'm sorry that we had to leave so soon after her birth, but Aldawin and the midwives here in Amon Obel all advised it. While our stay on the frontier was fairly quiet and uneventful, I sorely missed all my friends here," she shares.

"Hello, Aldawin," Lee greats cautiously, reluctantly leaving her place against the wall to step forward. She seems reluctant to touch the food spread upon the tables, simply taking a roll and thence stepping back to hover a few steps behind the others who have gone to Emeldir. Apparently deciding that she feels far too out of place, she turns swiftly on her heel and disappears into the hall once more, her exit just as sudden and silent as was her entrance.

Aldawin grins as the Lady introduces them to the child, kneeling down next to the basket to get a closer look at the babe. "Baraliel?" she repeats, tugging at her sleeves before reaching forward to barely touch one of the light blonde curls. The healer's smile broadens and she laughs softly. "She is a beautiful child, Emeldir. And Baraliel is a fit name, indeed." She stays crouched low, but looks back up to the healer. "T'was good that you left the hill. The sickness was rampant here."

Finnabair frowns down upon the infant, quirking a brow unsurely at it but lifting her look to Emeldir's excited introduction, "It has been long indeed and I am glad to see you so well, m'lady.", she says, stepping back to give room for Aldawin. "How old is the child now?", she asks, giving it another careful glance and at the same time reaching into the basket of bread on the table next to her.

Emeldir's smile widens, though a wistful look comes into her eyes as she murmurs, "Aye, she has the coloring of my mother's family, of the House of Marach," she comments as Aldawin fingers the infant's blonde curls. "In coloring only, though. Her features are those of Beren..." Emeldir pauses, her voice catching in her throat, then looks up at Finnabair through misted eyes, "Nearly six months, Finna," she replies quietly, offering a small smile as she adds, "Mayhap she will awaken soon. You are both quite welcome to visit us any time, ye realize."

The younger healer's smile solemns as the Lady mentions Beren. She strokes the infant's cheeks before withdrawing her hand and rising back to her feet. "Is she always so quiet?" is next wondered, though the renewed smile is directed to Emeldir. "And have you found that you have many offers of help in caring for her?" The grey glance strays to Finnabair and Aldawin chuckles softly. "What about you, Finna? Shall we offer our time in caring for Baraliel while still here in Amon Obel?"

Cealin comes through the doorway in a light step. The young man looks quite merry and carefree today. He is wearing a mulberry sleeveless jacket girdled with a kind of scarf which betrays some elaborate care on his side to look well on the occasion. He is surveying with interest the diversity of food on the tables and the company gathered aroung them. His attention is quickly drawn though to the Lady sitting peacefully beside her baby surrounded with her lady-guests, admiring the girl. He quickens the step and bows, greeting the Lady first and then the others, smiling to everyone in general. "Greetings, Lady Emeldir! We are all here rejoiced at your happy return. And the word is that you are doing well, you and your lovely baby!" He looks at the child sympathetically. "She is sleeping so peacefully," he adds after a pause with a slightly hesitant tinge in his voice.

Finnabair tears into the bread, breaking it in half, "Of course, m'lady!", she replies quickly, noticing the woman's mood falter. Turning as a young man comes up to join them, heralding the Lady with greetings and compliments, Finnabair delves into her simple fare, "I bet she squawks a lot.", she says soberly round a mouthful of the chewy bread after Aldawin's first question and Cealin's comment, hushing her voice so as not to waken the child and find out. Nearly choking upon her food with the healer's second and third questions though, Finnabair swallows hard, vehemently shaking her head, "I would not be fit to look after the child.", she answers in equally sober terms, not sensing Aldawin's jest.

Emeldir has to chuckle softly at Aldawin's query, nodding her head, "Oh aye, though I suspect most babes bring out that ... mothering instinct in many," she agrees, glancing now in Finnabair's direction, winking at the Ranger's comment, "Many, but not even ye, Finna?" she jests slyly. "I assure ye, she is a quiet, happy baby," she hastens to add. As the young Haleth man approachs, Emeldir dips her head to him, "Well met, milord. Please, avail ye of the food and beverages. Tis in gratitude for all the hospitality shown me by the folk of Brethil."

Aldawin grins at Finnabair's response, stifling a laugh as the ranger answers in doubt. "Aye, but you have looked after worse," she suggests, turning then to Cealin in greeting as the Lady addresses the young man. " Good even, Cealin. When did you arrive at the hill?" she says after Emelder has spoken, stepping away from the wicker basket--closer to the table whereupon the food is set. "There is a bounty here, to be sure," she then muses as she peers closer at the offerings of meat, vegetables, bread and fruit. Plucking a strawberry from one of the trays, she pops it into her mouth.

A cautious smile creeps onto Finnabair's expression as she looks between the three and then down at the child again, "I shall take your word for it, m'lady.", she grins, brushing her hands free of crumbs stepping back to the table with Aldawin to peruse the offerings. While doing so she glances over to the Haladin, looking upon him questioningly a moment before turning away. "M'lady?", she asks, "Would you care for something? A sweet? A drink?" Emeldir nods to Finnabair's offer, "Mayhap a glass of sweet wine, and some of the strawberries, Finna, please?" she replies with a smile. "I supped a bit earlier, I fear, when I was nursing Baraliel," she confides.

Following ALdawin'z gaze, Cealin surveys once more the delights of the table scattered around and takes a round green apple that is closest to him. Looking then back at the Lady Emeldir and Finnabaire, "Well, since no one seems to be in particular hurry to introduce me," a glance at Aldawin with mock reproach, "I am obliged to do that myself. I am Cealin, and I scout in the forest - usually. He chuckles, taking a huge slice of bread and observing with anticipation the meat that is out of his reach for now, "Not today though."

Continuing to look over the offerings on the table, Aldawin has soon taken a plate and filled it with bread, fruit and a bit of meat, motioning Finnabair to take some of the bounty as well. At Cealin's mock reproach, however, she eyes the Haladin with equal pretended defiance, though the expression softens with laughter. "Aye, this is Cealin. We have met...in the Haladin camp, as Istadris bested me in a spar, if I remember rightly." She looks to the young man, in question.

Finnabair nods to the Haladin, repeating his name in greeting, "Cealin, I am Finnabair of the Beor.", she says as searches over the table, finding wine chilled in cold water, tucked between the basket of bread and a giant display of wildflowers. "You are back then to stay upon the hill then Emeldir?", she asks as she pours the wine into a short, clay cup. "It would be safer for you and-", and she pauses, frowning to herself as she tries to draw up the name, "--Baraliel,", finding producing the name from memory, "Though rumours of the bandits have not been as frequent it is summer now and they may grow bold again.", she says as she turns to the Lady, bringing her the wine and the entire bowl of strawberries.

Graciously accepting the wine and berries from Finnabair, Emeldir inclines her head towards the ranger, "Aye, Finna. Baraliel and I are in Amon Obel to stay," her brow furrowing at the mention of the bandits. "I'd rather fear attacks from them, then the beasts we have met up with in the past, though," she whispers to her younger friend. She glances down at the still sleeping baby, then takes a calming sip of the sweet wine. "I never realized how much I enjoyed the spirits, until I was ... urged not to imbide them," she adds with a low chuckle, winking at Aldawin.

The bread having disappeared with the speed of a rabbit running away from the fox, Cealin now pays more attention to what is going around him and starts heeding the words addressed to him. At Aldawin's words he stares as if in disbelief, "Can you imagine that! I spent eternity to soothe the girl after her defeat and she is not even sure she remembers my name!" He glances at Finnabair and Lady Emeldir for support of his indignation.

Finnabair grins at the Lady as she passes her the cup, saying, "Enjoy this then.", before going back to the table to secure her own. "And I am glad to hear that you will be closer at hand. I am sure Istadris will be as well. Have you heard from him?", she asks, lifting a brow up at Cealin's indignant words, "Soothe Aldawin after her defeat?", she wonders, confused. "What are you two talking of?", she asks, looking between them curiously.

Tending to another strawberry, and making quick work of eating it, Aldawin listens first to the Lady's response and then Cealin's. To Emeldir she offers, "Aye, lady, but do not understimate the greediness or desperate nature of their kind. The bandits may not have the fury of the yrch, but they are dangerous nonetheless." The wink is returned with a grin, and Aldawin, herself, now reaches to help herself to a serving of the wine. Cealin's receives another questioning glare--though in good nature--as Finnabair questions them both. "I was hardly in need of consolation." She grins. "Istadris usually wins our spars."

Emeldir looks upon the Haladin and Aldawin quizzically, also unaware of the topic of their conversation. She shakes her head towards Finnabair, "nay, Finna, no word have I heard from Istadris. Where was he off to?" she inquires softly.

Cealin chuckles at Finnnabaire's question but avoids the topic, "Honestly, Aldawin, you would want a glass of wine?!" he says as if not noticing that she has already set about her helping of spirits. "I'll bring some from that very attractive table." With these words Cealin steps away only to take a big pitcher from the table to the left - finding the vessels next to him obviously too small to his liking.

Finnabair eyes Aldawin and Cealin, asking no more about their banter but giving a glance to the entrance to the hall where others come and go, engaged their own conversations. Drawn back by Emeldir's question, she steps toward her, sipping from the cup and answering, "Up to the fords. I expect him back soon, though.", she hastens to add. "He will be glad to find you returned. Perhaps you could then ask him to watch the child.", she suggests with a broadening grin.

Still sipping from her wine, as well as nibbling on strawberries, Emeldir nearly chokes, sputtering as she tries to hold back laughter at Finnabair's suggestion regarding Istadris. Coughing, she blinks as she takes a long draught to clear her throat, "Uh... visit mayhap. I doubt Istadris would agree to keep a watch on an infant, Finna," she observes wryly.

Aldawin holds up her cup of wine at Cealin's asking. "This shall do. There is far too much there for me," she says with a raise of her brow and motioning to the pitcher the Haladin has retrieved. Taking a small sip of the claret liquid, she gives a small shake of her head. "And far too much for you, I might add." With Finnabair's answer regarding Istadris, however, the healer's attention is given to the ranger's words. "It has been awhile since he has been away," she agrees, the smile turning somber. "With no word.." Though she is coaxed to a mild grin as Finnabair suggests the woodsman might watch the infant daughter of the Lady, and a broader grin still as Emeldir replies. "It could be no more difficult than his current watches," she quips, drinking once more, deeply, from the cup.

On hearing the last words Cealin, who missed part of the conversation, for it took more time than one would expect to visit the neighbouring table, gets suddenly interested in the topic of infants - instead of bandits and scouting as might have been expected. Taking a drink for te cup - a longer drink than before, whatever Aldawin might have imlied by her remark about spirits - he looks at the baby, wondering aload, "I cannot believe a child can be so quite amidst a festive dinner. My sister Aralleth was never like that."

Finnabair grins to Emeldir, "I do not doubt it either, m'lady.", she chuckles, sipping again at the wine and shaking her head at Aldawin, "I would hazard to guess that the child would be one challenge he would be as poorly prepared to meet as I myself. Quiet as she may be.", she adds, nodding to Cealin. The sun has now disappeared beneath the horizon and as the veil of night lowers, stars wink into existence and the wind stirs through the treetops, "The hour is getting on.", she mentions, finishing her drink and rising, "And so am I, for I must be up and away before first light."

"Oh, perhaps.." Aldawin muses with a shrug at Finnabair's answer, though still harbours a grin as she gives another glance to the quiet infant resting in the wicker basket. Her gaze soon goes overhead, however, with the ranger's mention of the lengthening evening. "Where are you bound early in the morn, Finnabair?" she wonders, eating the last of her portion of bread and setting the wooden plate upon the table. "Are some returning to the borders already," She looks also to Cealin, though waits on the Beorian ranger for an answer.

Cealin smiles a friendly and a tiny bit too braod smile, which might suggest that Aldawin was ultimately right about the spirites. "Really, Finnabair, you barely said a word to me the whole evening and leaving so soon. This is not fair. Is there anything we can do to make you stay? I volonteer to help you in the morning with anything you might be planning to do and go wherever you might be faring!"

Finnabair shakes her head, "South.", she answers Aldawin with an unreadable look, explaining little more than that, but giving Cealin's protestations a grin, "I would stay if I could but an apology will have to suffice. And for this there is no help that I need.", she smiles, setting down her empty cup upon the table and turning for the entrance of the hall, "Give Emeldir my thanks if you see her. I will be gone several days." Departing with a wave of her hand, Finnabair steps through the doorway and is gone.

Grinning at Cealin's eager words to Finnabair. Aldawin finishes the last of her wine and sets the cup down as well. "Fare well, then, Finnabair," she offers the ranger in parting, turning next to Cealin. "The night does draw on," she muses, looking as others, too make their way from the porch into the hall. "There is much of the food left, however," she says, grabbing another strawberry from one of the platters. How do you find the wine?" This last is offered with a bit of a surpressed grin."

Cealin waves belatedly to Finnabiare who is hardly capable to see his farewell. "Mysterious lady with mysterious business in the south. Perhaps one should not ask rangers any questions at all - the more so about their plans", Cealin muses aloud holding the half-empty cup in his hand. From the look in his eyes and ffom a content expression in his face one might at once apprehend that he whole-heartedly agrees with Aldawin's words - even about the wine. "I do enjoy my claret, Aldawin - and the food is ..." He pauses, watching those who are already leaving. "Well, if you want to learn a secret. I am always the last to leave the feast - and that is not because of the wine." Cealin grinnes at the girl while pronouncing the words.