Brethil's Roleplaying Logs

The first rays of sun are only just beginning to make their way over the tops of the trees to the east and already Emeldir is up and about, perhaps trying to tend to some chores before it becomes too warm. She has just finished sweeping the front path to the small cottage she shares with her infant daughter, the broom now resting on the front steps, and stoops now to tend to the small bed of flowers planted there.

On the porch within a small and definitely home-made (though well crafted) enclosure sits Baraliel herself, her wide grey eyes following the movements of her mother. At the infant's side rests a cloth animal, and grasped in one hand is a sodden bisquit which Baraliel gums from time to time. She seems quite contented at the moment, fortunately.

Making her way from Birch Row and the healer's cottage where she stays, Aldawin approaches the small cottage of the Lady Emeldir, her grey gaze lifting with the sound of vigorous sweeping mingled with the whispering breezes through the birch leaves overhead. Striding now towards the Lady's cottage, she espies the healer stooping down to tend to a small bed of flowers. The younger healer's mouth curves to a smile as she calls a cheerful, "Good morn, Lady!" and shifts her gaze from the elder healer to the infant daughter watching the surroundings contentedly. "It is a fair day to be out," she remarks, peering closer at Baraliel. "And it seems Baraliel is enjoying the day as well." Her gaze returns to Emeldir. "How fare you, Lady? Well, I hope."

Emeldir rises to her feet at the greeting of the younger healer, wiping the dirt off her hands on the edge of her apron. She dips her head, welcoming Aldawin, "Milady, tis good to see ye," she replies in kind, smiling warmly. "Aye, tis a wonderful day, though still a mite early," she agrees, glancing briefly towards Baraliel before turning her attentions back to Aldawin. "What brings ye up and about so early in the morn, Aldawin?" she inquires, brow furrowing slightly as the infant begins to fuss. Emeldir moves towards the porch, stooping to retrieve Baraliel now, whispering soothingly to the child. "She's beginning to teethe, so I've been rubbing some oil of clove on her gums," she relates.

"Aye, that will do the trick for teething, certainly," Aldawin replies with a soft chuckle first, reaching to stroke the infant's soft cheeks. "She is being so good," the younger healer says, smile broadening as the grey eyes glitter. The younger Beor turns that same delighted look to the Lady. "And aye, it is a fine morning, indeed. I rose early and so decided to take a walk down the greensward trail. She stands back and casts a glance at the flower beds. "Could you use some help in tending those?" she wonders, rubbing her hands briskly together.

Stepping back to the flower bed, Emeldir apologizes for the interruption, "I'm sorry, Aldawin.. let's see.. where were we?" her high forehead wrinkling in thought. "Ah, yes.. well, I am doing as well as can be expected, trying to .. feel more at home here in Brethil," she confides to the younger woman. "Tending to this small plot of flowers helps some," she adds, with a glance to the bed of dark purple pansies and bright yellow daisies. "I was just going to weed and water them," she tells her, "You're more than welcome to help, though," she extends in invitation.

Aldawin crouches down beside the flower bed at the Lady's invitation to join in helping with the weeding, though a thoughtful muse has overtaken her sober smile, and for a moment she says nothing in return--allowing the stirring breezes to once again stir the leaves in whispers and bob the colorful heads of the flowers before her. She tugs at a few weeds grown close and fan-like to the ground, discarding them to the side. "It is something that takes trying, indeed," comes the younger healer's comment at last. "For as fair a forest as it is, it still does not seem as home... Lady, do you--" she begins, but clips the words silent almost as quickly, shaking her head as if to dismiss the question that would follow.

Emeldir drops to her knees beside Aldawin, putting her hands back into the dirt again, reaching for a small spade which she uses help dig out the more stubborn weeds, especially those closest to the flowers. She begins humming softly, to herself, as she works, though keeping an ear open to Aldawin's shared thoughts, her head bent to a single, tiny rose bush to catch the fragrant aroma of it's red blooms.

Emeldir pauses and turns more towards Aldawin, guessing at the un-asked question, "Do I still think of Dorthonion...?" she prods gently, her voice soft and lowered. "Oh aye, indeed I do, and I miss our homeland with all my heart," she confides in quiet tones. "And ... and I wonder of the fate of our kith and kin..." she adds, her voice quavering briefly, then trailing off as she quickly turns her head, tears welling unbidden in her eyes.

Her gaze still trained to the weeks that encroach about the bases of the flowering plants, Aldawin stops with the Lady's voicing of her own question. She swallows hard, raising the gaze to the elder healer. "Aye..." she breathes in a whisper, sitting back upon her bended knees and reaching a hand in silent comfort towards the other, to rest upon her shoulder. "I have thought of Eril much in the past few days, though my thoughts have never been far from him." She sniffs quietly, though no sign of gleaming shines yet in her eyes. "I am sorry, Lady, for breaching so tender a subject." She blinks rapidly, withdrawing her reach to return to the weeding, though amidst her thoughts the attempt is more subdued.

Lifting a clean corner of her apron, Emeldir gently dabs at the corners of her eyes, wiping the tears away before turning back towards Aldawin with a small, sad smile. "Tis okay, Aldawin..all of the Beorians here in Brethil have friends and family we left behind in Dorthonion," she tells her quietly. "It does help to keep busy, though. Have ye been helping tend the herb garden here?" she asks, returning now to the task at hand of weeding. She pauses and taking a pair of shears neatly clips a single red rose bud, proffering it to the younger healer, "Please take this back.. it can be the beginnings of the year's rosehips for ye," she tells her.

Aldawin takes the offered rose, smiling amidst the concern of her expression. "Thank you, Lady," She says, her voice affected with faint emotion. "Aye, I do help tend the garden, and have been assigned duty tomorrow, as a matter of fact." The younger healer turns the red bloom in her fingers slowly, bringing it up to her nose as finally, the grey eyes glisten despite her smile. "I have also collected as much of maythen flowers as I can and will be making salves before the winter. I shall save some for you." The healer's gaze lifts past the lane and to the distant Hall. "Ahh, there is Annela. She has returned at last. Forgive me, Lady, I must speak to her. I will return shortly." So said, the healer gets to her feet, a wistful smile once more proffered to the other. "Thank you, Emeldir," she whispers once more, her steps lengthened and hurried towards Brethil Hall.