Early Night, Orbelain, 33 Rhiw, TA 3027
It is not a wonder that the descendants of the Singers of Ossiriand might choose to meet upon a river bank, and upon the Anduin of old. Rivers do not change much, and that very slowly. While lands are landscaped by the creativity of ephemeral occupants, rivers are seldom troubled....and if intermittently they are, the water quickly overtakes all changes. There are no names writ upon its surface, no monuments made from its substance. Blades and arrows simply sink and disintegrate; stones wear down smooth. It is the same and the same, forever. And yet the water that passes is never the same water that has ever passed before. And from this impossible tension between time and timelessness comes the river's song.
It is not a wonder that the quendi come by rivers. And the Green Singers, caught between loss and joy, ever seek them most especially, remnants themselves, new waters, the same passage, lost and hiding. But they still sing, only different songs...and some of the same ones, at least. For they remember.
But there are other quendi at this gathering: from the Golden Wood and the Valley, both Silvan and Sinda, from the King's Hill the folk of Eryn Galen, and even a few who call home in other places, hidden places of deep memories, like the depths of the river.
Eledurima nos Denethor is dancing in the grass near the river, dreaming, remembrance of song in a verdant gown on the golden lawn like green summer on a blanket of golden autumn. Above, the sky is beginning to change color as evening comes nigh, from blue to purple to rose, and more and more the slim elven maid seems a silouette against the fading light. On the grass nearby is her small harp, witness to many homes, companion in many travels....and the harp is singing. Well, not singing really, but shivered into music by the breeze that issues up and over the river, livelier and cooler than in the heart of the Wood. The wind and harp and dancer are in the communion of music and movement...One. And the partner? Of course, the river: Ulmo's protection of his secret people and his whispered secret voice, at once far and yet nearby.
Sitting cross-legged in the grass, a bemused smile tilting his lips, a tall black-haired quendi watches sometimes the dancer, sometimes the sky beyond her. Lothdaimoth's feet are bare, one hand toys idly with the grass that pokes up bright against the dullness of his clothes, and the smile comes and goes almost at random.
Toward the river come the graceful steps of two quendi of Amon Thranduil. The slighter, Alaira, walks alongside Valencil, and a pleased smile warms her features as she notices the dancing of Eledurima. "Ah, see, Valencil," she says, gently laying a hand on his arm. "I told you that I have yet to see a place in Lorien that is not lovelier than the last, nor one that does not have some sweet song to linger on my ears, and this is yet another example."
Valencil, for once dressed in a rather elaborate fashion, pats Alaira's hand on his arm and says, "It is lovely, yes." He looks around with a smile, though follows Alaira's lead as to where to go and what to do.
And a twain of Laiquendi join those gathered already upon the lawn; both are tall, green-clad, blue-eyed, and of the Glirdain. Yet one is the golden-haired Melhend, the younger, and the other is the ebon-tressed Methenauth, the elder, with a silvern circlet upon his brow. The elder seems to be explaining something as the pair draws nearer, hand motions perhaps accentuating his words (whatever they might be), but his lilting voice fades as the music becomes clearer. "Ah, I see we have come upon the lawn at last, mellon," calls Methenauth quietly.
Upon a turn, her long shadowed hair lifted by the wind, she catches in her gaze the company of quendi that are gathering on the lawn while she dances and draws in her delicate arms, ceasing the movement, not embarrassed, really, but blushing at being watched in her "abandon" of her dignity. But the dance was so graceful that it barely seems to cease as she does, the music of the movement spins out like the softly whirling stars in the sky, movement and stillness both at once. When the song evaporates, Ele smooths her hair and gown a little with a small hand, but still there remains a certain fawnlike wildness nestled and nearly hidden within her serenity, like a river smooth on surface but deep, oh deep.
Gathering herself into composure, Ele smiles softly and speaks, her voice carried upon the back of the riverwind with her lifting wild hair. "Good even to you." The sun sinks lower and the stars begin to dawn.
Lothdaimoth doesn't speak, but dark eyes return from the far realms of the painted sky and the smile on his face deepens and remains. A glimmer of light, like a tiny earthbound star, gleams at his throat.
Alaira pauses in her steps and casts a glance around before offering another smile to Eledurima. She addresses her then with a voice clear, though melodious, "And to you, though your beautiful dancing was more than enough of a welcome."
Eledurima turns her head toward the voice and gently answers, " And those are words of flattery, Lady Alaira, for I saw you perform with the people of the Hill last even. How does my lord the king?"
A mahoghany haired elleth wanders, almost reluctantly, towards the riverside. With her fingers knitted before her, one thumb idly tracing circles in the opposite palm, Ailiell scans the gathering Quendi. Dark eyes flicker restlessly from face to face, seeking those she knows; a soft, faintly amused smile dawning as they alight on the form of Lothdaimoth in the grass. "Good evening, Counsel," she says formally, even while dropping beside him in an unceremonious crinkling of linens. Following his gaze to the brilliant sky, with laughter pinched into the creases of her smile, she adds quietly, "I wonder what exactly you see that pleases you so?"
Valencil stands next to Alaira and smiles at Eledurmia as she speaks to his companion, but seems more interested in watching those arriving and looking at the clothes and fashions. He listens in on a few surrounding conversations, but says nothing himself.
Alaira's smile remains at Eledurima's words, and after a moment of thought she replies, " He is well, though consumed in military matters at the present, hence his absence." Her features slip into a slightly more somber appearance at those last words, but she lightens her tones once more with an added, " Shall I bring him word of you?"
Eledurima changes back to the common language of the elves, Sindarin. "If the king so would wish it." And then she turns to the folk gathered and raises her voice a little, a practiced voice for address is it. "The Lady Calriel of the Laiquendi of Lorien has asked me if I would play the hostess to this event, and I agreed. I am Eledurima, born in the Hill and raised both there and in the Wood, for any who would know. But what tonight we will do here upon the lawn is dance and make music to the stars. And, if any would, they might also make songs of music and dancing for to do battle with the darkness."
Eledurima opens her hands downward, palms out. "As the hostess, I cannot open but to ask if there is one who would so honor us."
A soft voice beside him is followed by the whisper of cloth on cloth and Lothdaimoth looks around. "Ailiell. Tis good to see you this night." Drawn back to the setting sun by her words, he grins. "Nothing... why do you ask?" But then Eledurima begins an announcement and he looks again to her, saying in an aside to his newly-acquired companion, "Do you dance here then?"
An elleth walks slowly towards the quendi she sees gathered in a group, her footsteps light. A strand of her raven dark hair is pulled forward and Calasil idly winds it about a finger. Upon reaching them, she murmurs, "Mae govannen," softly in greeting, then glances around, taking in the quiet conversations of those present. Incining her head to those she recognises, she stays silent, standing apart from the rest. Turning her attention to Eledurima as the elleth starts to speak, she looks around to see who will volunteer to perform first.
Melhend smiles to Methenauth and says, "Ah. It appears we have." Glancing about the Long Lawn, he smiles widely. Noticing the hostess speaking, he says with a small chuckle, "I suppose we should move towards there..." He absently looks toward the MAster, awaiting a response before moving.
Calabrethil walks with long strides onto the lawn as well. After the last incident with performing, she is in no hurry to perform first. So instead she casts a keen glance around, and notices the lady Alira who had spoken so kindly to her the night before. She walks up close beside the lady, waiting to be noticed, but keeping a careful eye on the hostess and whatever else is passing around her.
Valencil says to Alaira, "I believe someone wants to speak to you, melisse..." He smilse at Celebrethil kindly and tries to shift Alaira's attention to her.
Alaira ponders Eledurima's words, as if considering something. However, Valencil's voice temporarily brings her from her thoughts. After looking up at him quizzically, she turns and notices Calabrethil. "Ah! The flutist!" she says as her eyes focus on Calabrethil's face. "Mae Govannen...have you come to grace us with your playing once again?"
Eledurima laughs at the silence that has fallen. "Ai, we have no king to command here, but this silence in the face of invitation to beat back the darkness is unseemly." She giggles softly, larksong is it or a nightengale's? "Lo! the darkness triumphs against the quendi's faint heartedness." It is apparent in her tone that she is teasing for there is a little giggle behind her voice.
Calabrethil grins at the salutation and she bows low. "My name is Calabrethil," she smiles. "I may play, or I may dance. I do not know yet which!" She laughs softly. "The flute I love, but I have been dancing for a longer time, so maybe that would bring more honour to him I love." She cranes her neck a bit. "Who is not here again! Stars above! Ah duty, my poor Meriden!"
Her smile growing positively beatific in its innocence, eyes on the sky, Ailiell answers softly, "No reason at all." A dark-eyed glance darts over the Counsel's profile then, before coming to rest placidly on Eledurima. "I had planned to dance, aye, but I fear my partner has become otherwise detained. The fates have intervened on behalf of the audience," she laughs. "And yourself? Will you be taking to your heels, Lothdaimoth?"
Dafyd looks joyfully at those more skilled then him and whishes desperatley that one day he will achieve such greatness and grace.
"I had not thought to.. but you say your partner has left you bereft?" Lothdaimoth hesitates a moment and then says, "If you still wished to dance, I have no partner either...?" The tail end of the sentance rises in question, along with one black eyebrow.
"Ah, why not both?" Alaira replies in a soft voice as she casts her gaze around at the rest gathered.
Eledurima laughs lightly as dewfall, "Ah then, no partners? What needs? Partner the wind or stars or trees or the river or the grass or...." She ceases the list. "Then sing as we pass the time for time we have in plenty." Ele turns like a leaf on the wind and sweeps up the little harp, whispering softly to it.
Eledurima strokes the strings of the cherry and mithril-runed harp with slender, sure, and graceful fingers, swift as sudden joy, and music begins to shiver the air.
Calabrethil arches a pale golden eyebrow. "At once?" she asks, giggling girlishly
An attentive gaze is turned toward the hostess as she speaks, but then the azure eyes of Methenauth are returned to his companion. "I think I shall but watch, mellon. Go closer if you wish, do not let me hinder you. I think I shall observe from here." And there moves the Master to sit, upon the lawn, cross-legged, blue eyes turned intent toward Eledurima and those gathered toward her.
Dialagos walks farther onto the lawn, he smooths his cape and takes a seat on the grasstake his quiver off and sets it next to him along with his bow,now he looks up to what is going on.
Rather startled, Ailiell looks to the Vintner, likewise falling into hesitation. 'I... hm.' And her voice falling ever quieter and into a low chuckle, "Do ...... ... ... ... ... my .... But..." Another chuckle intercedes, as she stumbles. "... a...certain ...... ..., ... ... ...?"
Dafyd smiles as the joy of the song overtakes him, truly making him feel his youth.
"I think not." Lothdaimoth grins at Ailiell. "She could not come, but would not grudge me a dance." One eyelid drops in what might be a wink. "Was that a yes or a no, mellon?"
Eledurima retunes subtly, quickly, a practiced and professional performer, as she speaks, her voice starred with joyful tone. "Now who then will sing for us, dance for us light and drive back the darkness and darkling lord's might. For only we have then the songs of each heart, and dancing and starlight and glittering art!"
Melhend smiles and says, "Hmm...I have naught to play, so I believe I shall watch from here as well." Taking a seat a little bit away from Methenauth, he looks toward the singer smiling happily as the music goes on. With a grin his gaze follows Eledurima, waiting to see who will be performing, singing, and dancing.
Dafyd begins to stand up, but thinks better of it and sits back down hastily.
Laughing now, delightedly, Ailiell nods. "I knew it!" she hisses once, and takes to her feet.
Eledurima says, "I'll play for the dancers unless you will no, but please someone take this, or rhymes more I know...and you will be pinioned on my little power, for Avar there is not to epic our hours!"
Eledurima giggles over the last few words and stops. "Which means: If you came to dance and sing, do it now."
"Why not both at once?" Alaira replies to Calabrethil after Eledurima has finished. She nods toward Eledurima then, "And why not right now? "
Dafyd smiles and says, "I hope to one day be skilled enough to sing in front of ones as greate as you.
Jumping up, in one graceful motion, Lothdaimoth stands beside the Imladrim and laughs. "Knew what, mellon?" he teases before looking towards Eledurima. "We as well," he calls out, louder, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet and shaking his long arms out. Dark eyes sparkle with fun.
Calabrethil laughs again, then starts to move her way through the crowd. Two thirds of the way up, she raises her hand (flute clasped in her fist) and waves to draw Eledurima's attention, pointing down at herself and bowing.
A warm, mirthful grin is directed towards Eledurima as she speaks of a lack of Avari epics, Ailiell's laughter once more spilling over. "Knew nothing at all," she answers the giddy Galadrim, a deep light of gladness kindling into life within sable eyes. She kicks off her slippers, wriggling her toes in the cool grass.
Eledurima laughs and turns toward Alaira with her hands extended. "Indeed, and I thank you, Lady Alaira, as do the stars which are winking mightily."
Dialagos picks up his stuff,stands and walks back so her can get a better view he nods to everyone his passes and smiles seeing all the excitement going on
"Ah, but it was Calabrethil that I meant," Alaira replies with a wink. "For she seems eager indeed to once again grace us all with her playing, despite her initial hesitancy" the elleth furthers as she lifts a slender arm to indicate the maiden waves toward Eledurima.
Eledurima turns, "Ah, and why did I not see the lady? Indeed, the stars look upon us all!" She looks upon Calabrethil. "But you must...well let me see....can we make haste? Or they may slip away again into the night." She giggles and gestures to Calabrethil. "Shall I play for you, then, or have you a tune already to dance to?"
Calabrethil edges her way through the last of the crowd, her pale cheeks slightly red. She laughs gaily. "Shall we play together and see what melody harp and flute can make together, while I dance to our tune?" She bows, white teeth flashing in a grin.
The slim lady shimmering in green stars is at ease in this, "Indeed, as you wish, for you may call the tune and I will follow."
Eledurima moves a little ways off to give the star her space and settles upon the grass, her gown spreading about her, her harp upon her lap. She tunes it, her ear close, without bowing her head so as to watch for the cue.
Turning and hastily removing her gray cloak, Calabrethil stands tall, facing the audience. "So be it! Fast and light, for my heart is joyful tonight! For hear me!" Her voice is stronger and louder than normal, joy running through it. "Tonight I will dance as never I have before...to drive away the shadow that hangs heavy on the world, aye!, but also to show in music and movement my love that I just found! I would that he were here to see what I do in his honour, but sadly duty calls him away." She raises her flute close to her lips. "His name is Meriden, of the Order. Now, let us begin..." She nods slightly to Eledurima and raises her flute to her lips, producing an intricate melody, love alone first predominating the tender notes as her hands carress the instrument.
Eledurima follows the song, easily playing and softly upon the harp in the background.
The flute catches the attention of the Master, and slowly Methenauth leans a bit toward Melhend. "Say, a flautist. I heard story of one of the Galadhrim who played a flute quite lovely, and not too long ago..." he says, his voice weaving in and out of murmur. "I wonder if this be her." Straighter he sits again, azure eyes alighted upon the flutist, her melody begun, toes almost absently tapping to the rhythm.
Calabrethil grins, her gray eyes half closing. She starts to sway with the music, pleased this unrehearsed production is starting so well. Then she changes the song, lighter and faster come the notes as joy at Meriden's return after long abscence and her own happy discovery coming more and more into the fore. Who knows, before this is over, perhaps the elleth may even sing?? For now, though, the song builds to something like that of a spring dance-tune, but richer and far more intricate.
Still now, mostly, Lothdaimoth watches the fluter with appreciation. "She plays well," he murmurs aside to Ailiell.
"She does, indeed," Ailiell answers, quite forgetful of the winter beyond the Wood, so warm and green does the maiden's melody spill forth.
Melhend stands and frowns toward Methenauth, saying, "And I sadly shall not hear it...I must go....a pity to miss such song and dance. You shall have to tell me of it when we next meet! Namarie!" He then walks off, heading away from the Lawn.
What had started as nearly standing still becomes, slowly, movement. Calabrethil's playing does not suffer for the addition of dancing, and it is pure joy and love that moves her body. Graceful as a deer, the elleth puts motion to music, slowly and a bit hesitantly at first. Then she gets more into the rhythm, losing self-conciousness.
Calabrethil starts at first in a circle, her feet pounding the beat like a pair of drums, her thin body moving in perfect harmony to the song of harp and flute, fingers doing their own dance on her instrument and her long legs arching and flashing in the moonlight as her upper body sways.
Eledurima's harp strains wind about the dancer and the flute gently, cradling them in gossamer webs of light that shimmer and fade at the touch, there and never there, present now then memory.........
Despite himself, the tall vintner's fingers begin to twitch in time to the rhythm. The crowd around and behind him ebbs and flows as some leave and others arrive, but none of this takes his attention from the dance. And the music.
The elleth's dance becomes faster, breaking out of the circle she had been making and just going wherever the mood takes her; whirling, jumping, leaping, crouching, then up again with a rising trill of notes. Sweat appears on her brow, but Calabrethil shows no sign of flagging. If anything, her music and movement become even more animated. Her gray eyes are nearly silver, shining to rival the stars' beauty as she glances over the others.
Calabrethil moves her dance into the crowd, weaving in and out, invovling them in her own joy, until she comes to Alaira. She moves to dance before the lady from Amon Thanduiril, her eyes clearly saying 'come join me! I wouldst share my joy with you especially, since you first knew of it!'
A soft laugh escapes Alaira's lips as she responds, "Very well." Instantly then, she too is caught up in dancing to the sounds of Calabrethil's flute, her slender form spinning and stepping here and there to the sound of the flute and harp.
Calabrethil leads Alaira out to the main part of the lawn again, circling around the other, crossing paths and intercrossing, her own dance increasing in daring...daring that few would dare match. But always she is careful of her partner.
The great leaps become backwards, spinning jumps and the graceful jumps turn to somersaults. But the music from her flute never falters, even when a somersault makes her land on her shoulders and then roll back up onto her feet. Forwards, backwards, in sync with her noble partner, but by far the more exuberent of the two. The notes rise to a series of complex up-and-down scales with harmonies woven in before breaking back into the joyful song with its tender harmonies.
Eledurima merely harps behind the dancers, easily following them pace and tune, wherever they might go, content now that things have begun to be the backup. She is as easy as a river, keeping the banks smoothly and watchfully.
Alaira claps her hands merrily along with Calabrethil as she spins about, but keeps her own graceful movements simple, as if not wishing to draw attention from the performer.
Dialagos gets into the music and starts claping along with the beat as he watches the dancers, dance with all there grace and the music's fine tune.
A grin lighting her features, Ailiell takes up the clapping as well, nodding along with the wild rhythm.
Calabrethil continues her song, now performing a series of backflips and spins in from of her partner, then ducking around Alaira in a graceful spin, wrapping the other for a moment in a cloak of long golden hair. She moves with restrained power, for all her wild actions, enjoying every moment, drinking in the thrill of being able to show her love this way; drinking nad becoming intoxicated with it, content to let this go on for ever, if wind and strength allow her. For all has melted away save her love and her dance. Several more times, her flowing hair enfolds her partner as she continues her dance, nimbly leaping about, using her body to express emotions she cannot express elsewise.
Alaira continues to dance along with Calabrethil's song, though she gives the musician quite a bit of room for her own whirling.
This cannot last forever, for Calabrethil knows she is becoming winded. She performs one last wild backflip-double somersault and as she lands her flute flies from her sweaty hands, arching towards Lothdaimoth and Ailiell. Taking a deep beath, the unexpected happens...Calabrethil sings, an extremely rare thing.
Her alto voice is deep, her tone as rich and intricate as the notes of her flute where, emotion adding even more colour to her dulcet, tender lyrics:
Whiter than a dove's wing is his hair
I am with him, no matter where
Across Sea or mountain or fen
and his name is Meriden.
As ice are his sweet eyes
But in them so much warmth lies
Guarding our lovely trees and glens
And his name is Meriden.
I would with him always be
I feel so strange when together are we
He is the noblest of Edhel or Men
and his name is Meriden.
When he speaks my name, my heart is light
In my heart he makes a fire burn bright
My love for him is beyond my ken
and his name is Meriden!
Calabrethil ends her song almost caressing the name of the one she is growing to love, then bows low, her golden hair sweeping the ground and her ribs heaving.
Eledurima stops the harp on cue.
Alaira applauds the maiden's performance heartily, then steps quickly back to her former place alongside Valencil. "... ... ... sing ... such ... praise ... ......" she whispers then while nudging him.
Valencil looks at Alaira, a smirk on his lips, though his eyes convey to her what words cannot.
Dialagos applauds also the fine music
As the song ends, Lothdaimoth begins to applaud. "Very nice dancing, mellon!" he calls out.
Snatching the flute from the air, Ailiell laughs lightly. "Well danced, indeed," she agrees, extending the maiden's instrument to her with a faintly wry grin.
Eledurima laughs merrily, "Indeed it was and for reasons most to scatter the dark!"
After grinning in response to Valencil's remark, Alaira steps away from him and nods to Eledurima. "I will follow with a dance, if you like. No music is necessary, but if you, or any others feel compelled to play along, Hiril, I will gladly have it."
Calabrethil carefully picks her way over to collect her flute with a smile, a whisper of thanks, and a bow. Then she returns to Valencil's side to await the lady's return. w Valencil=I would play for her....but I have no breath now!
Eledurima says, "As however you wish. I will enjoy the rest now that the stars have awakened."
Eledurima sets her harp aside.
At that, Alaira moves turns and faces away from the river, her airy dress floating around her legs. Her rosy lips tilt upwards in a smile for an instant, but in the next she is a flash of silver and green, spinning around once and opening her dance. No music accompanies her movement yet, save for the rushing sound of the river, yet the very idea of music is in each graceful movement of her body. Her feet are light, stepping in a captivating melody, accelerating and slowing. In contrast to these quick, delicate steps, her arms are the steady harmony, swaying in an enchanting rhythm about her.
Almost before he has finished clapping for the first dancer, another steps up and Lothdaimoth stills his hands again to watch.
Alaira's hands lift to the stars then, as does her gaze, and her form remains still for an instant as if she were contemplating the weight of the sky. Her feet take her in a series of gentle half spins, first left, then right, then back left again before she turns the full way around. The soft green silk of her skirt spins around her legs, its color, along with that of the silver ribbons that lace up her calves, reminiscent of those of her people.
The lids of Alaira's eyes fall shut then, hiding her gaze as her arms curve in front of her. She bends and sways at this, beauty in simplicity. The ribbons that hold her hair ripple softly through the air as she spins once more, but her dance is slowing now, her steps move carefully pronounced. Finally then, her body stops, her feet coming together, and her hands clasped in front of her sides. Her head lifts, and in a clear voice, she addresses those gathered, "I dance a dance that I learned many years past in the halls of Amon Thranduil. It is a dance in praise of she who our Sinda lords referred to as Gilthoniel in Beleriand long ago."
Calabrethil claps softly for her friend, grinning broadly, before she falls back again into a semi-reclining position, one hand over her still gulping lungs. "Beautiful, Lady!" she finds the breath to half-gasp to herself.
Her smile taking on somewhat of a dreamlike quality, Ailiell nods slowly to Alaira, fingers clasped before her. Unwilling, somehow to break the peace of the moment, she merely smiles her appreciation.
Silent for several moments after the dance is ended, Lothdaimoth at last smiles. "It was beautiful," he says softly.
Eledurima's turquoise gaze has lowered as the dance ended so that her eyes are upon the golden grass, but then the words, "And that is well for who better to stand against the darkness, and we, her minions, stand behind."
Eledurima sighs and smiles, "And dance and sing, for a certainty."
"Precisely, Hiril," Alaira replies as she nods toward Eledurima. "As well, if we cry out to her in our times of distress, it is similarly appropriate to share with her our joy." At that, she bows only slightly and begins to move toward the rest.
Calabrethil moves slowly to accost the lady and escort her back to her friend. "That was lovely indeed. Would that you would be here long enough to teach it to me!" the elleth breathes, still too winded for loud speech...and nor does she want to breach the wonder of the moment.
Glancing up to the tall Counsel with a merry half-grin, Ailiell leans in to murmur, "... suppose ... ... ..., then. ... try ... to ... ... ... hem." Stepping up, she looks uncertainly to Eledurima and back again to Lothdaimoth. 'What shall we have for music?'
Lothdaimoth follows. "I will do my best," he promises. The question about music brings his eyes to Eledurima as well. "Ah... something quiet perhaps?" And with a wry grin he murmurs to his partner, "This for being unprepared... what shall we dance?"
Alaira laughs softly and joins Calabrethil on the grass to watch the next performers
Eledurima looks up from her momentary reverie toward Ailiell. "I can provide or not, as you wish, for never have I turned aside rendering whatever I can to help. A quiet song then, as you wish."
Inclining her dark head in thanks, Ailiell looks to Lothdaimoth with a quiet smile. The elleth's hem rustles faintly, and falls into utter stillness as she folds her hands behind her waist, waiting, a silver reed beneath the stars.
Eledurima begins to play softly and sweetly. How would the stars sing if they could be heard? Gently or brightly in soft white or silver?
The music would curl then around, binding only with sound and spell, not binding at all, but enticing and warding....
The stars sparkle overhead, all the more brightly for the sweet whisper of song that winds through the hushed crowd. Lothdaimoth holds out both hands, possibly for Ailiell to take, or simply in the first movement of his dance. Utterly still to begin with, he lets the melody move through his body and begins to move with it.
At the edge of the lawn, pale and wraith-like, with silk moving about her as though the cloth is compelled by the music alone, there is Caelwen. Her eyes are caught by Ailiell and Lothdaimoth, and she seems to drift closer, but slowly, so slowly it is difficult to see her footsteps. Silent is she, and her gaze does not turn.
Stars dawn, again and again, in the dark sky, and they do call it sparkling. Hope dawns again and again in a frightened world and they do call it song. Love dawns again and again in a darkling heart and they do call it dancing.
A coiled, feline energy flows through Ailiell's frame; gladness and melody restrained into simplicity. Bare feet whisper over the grass, as she takes small, fine steps. Her hands raise slowly, to rest gently, palm to palm. The glittering hint of a grin flickers in dark eyes.
Seating herself on the ground silently to one side of the group, Calasil watches Ailiell and Lothdaimoth begin their dance. Listening to the soft music of the harp against the almost silent night, she tilts her head to one side, the shining stars standing out against the dark blanket of the night.
And love is what Lothdaimoth dances. Hand touching hand with his partner, he dances; swaying like the mallyrn in spring, new life budding underneath the old. The long grass swaying in the new-borne breeze that none-the-less is as old as time. Hands rise and part, opening like the tiny golden elanor nestled in the lawn. Love for his home.
Fluid as wind, as the river running, Ailiell whirls beneath his uplifted, empty hands. A faint -crack- as her unfastened cloak whips around, in the sudden double-timed stepping to the gentle, slow harp. With a blur of starlit mahoghany hair, and the faint luminescence of white silk beneath the moon, the elleth spins a glad pattern about her partner.
The -crack- seems to startle Caelwen, whose eyes widen and shift slightly from dancer to dancer, with the shocked look of one newly awakened. She hovers, one toe to the ground, and only belatedly seems to realize she is standing. A gentle meandering of pale silk about her-- as if she is, indeed, fashioned of naught but white clouds in starlight-- and she has settled herself to the grass, hands resting unmindfully in her lap, gaze unblinking upon Ailiell and Lothdaimoth again.
But love, once given, only grows and multiplies with each fragile hesitating gesture towards another, and the counsel spreads his arms wider, turning in concert with Ailiell. A faint hint of sadness runs beneath the movements, they are slower, a little less fluid. Loves from the past, gone now.. he backs away, each bare foot placed precisely in the starlight grass. Hands reach out yearningly, but fall empty to his side.
Eledurima's harpsong spins out toward the stars.
Alaira lays back, watching the dancers with a content exprssion as she wiggles her toes in the grass.
As though she could mend the rendings of time and chance with a re-weaving of pattern, Ailiell circles; the pattern ever more intricate, arms rising slowly above her head, as her whirling grows wilder. Wilder and more measured all at once. As though wholeness is hers to offer, as though the dissonance within the Great Song may be mended by the strange melody of wind through silks, and bare feet flying, the elleth dances. Drawing the edhel back into the pattern by will alone.
Calabrethil looks somewhat in shock at the Lady Alaira, but decides to flop back as well, removing her feet from her light slippers and enjoying the cool wet grass on her hot feet.
Dialagos Sits back down on the grass, watching everything that's going on and at all the people nodding and smiling amazed at all the people that showed up.
Though her smooth and ageless face seems to move little, if at all, a sorrow has crept into Caelwen's peridot eyes, and her head has bowed a bit. Yet despite this, she watches.
The harpsong meets the stars and one circles the other, slowly, then quickening like the dance.
Back he comes, faster though not much, reaching out again to catch her hands. The music still plays, and joy comes back into the movements of the dance. Joy and wonder and awe at what he sees now. And now, his movements are of total abandonment to new love; love unexpected, unlooked for, un-guessed at. All hint of grief is gone, now there is only healing and complete joy. Until once again the counsel slows and comes to a halt in the same position as before: hands upheld, face shining from within with a radiance that seems to reflect the stars themselves.
Fallen into perfect stillness, her skirts following somewhat after, Ailiell smiles gently, dark gaze to dark gaze, though joy and starlight are written in both. Another moment, and she breaks both spell and dance away with a laugh, sleek hair gone to wild tendrils. "Many thanks," she murmurs, both to Eledurima and Lothdaimoth.
The harper watches the dancers, as she has never seen them dance this dance before, but her small fingers are lent their nimbleness by much practice at this very sort of thing, playing at for gaiety and consolation and pleasure. She watches the dancers as she plays, winding as they do, slowing as they do, stopping as and when they do and letting the sound glitter for a moment and then shimmer away into memory.
Eledurima closes her hands where they are next to the strings, smiling, and lays the harp aside.
Alaira applauds as she sits up, calling out, "Well done, mellyn! A true sight indeed!"
Laughing now, Lothdaimoth bows to Ailiell before turning to Eledurima. "My thanks for the song," he says softly and turns to become part of the crowd again.
Lips part as Caelwen watches the dance, and she leans forward slightly, the ends of copper curls coiling into her lap. Her eyes gain a sheen to them as though they glow from within, but it is likely naught but reflected starlight. A breath taken as she shakes her head to dispell the spell, and the Potter's hands are brought together in applause, as well. "Stunning," she calls, voice softer than some others, "Beautiful indeed."
Calabrethil applauds as well, then speaks softly to her new friend. "I fear my skill is too poor to show in such gatherings....but somehow, I cannot help myself. It might serve me better if I could." She shakes her head, smiling a strange, slightly sad, smile.
Eledurima looks up, smiling, and nods both her thanks and her accolades to the dancers. Her voice is soft, now, "Is there another of you who would bring a hymn or dance of praise unto this dome of night?"
Soft, it may be, and yet the familiar voice carries. Ailiell turns towards Caelwen, her palms pressed absently against dance flushed cheeks. Guileless and giddy, she laughs quietly once more and wends her way -- a bit unsteadily -- through the small crowd.
Alaira smiles to Calabrethil, "Your performance was wonderful. Do not doubt yourself."
Caelwen seems to be having trouble casting off the trance that was laid upon her, for although her glittering eyes have turned to Ailiell, it is a moment ere true recognition dawns. And then a smile breaks over and warms her face, and her hand lifts in a silent gesture of welcome, ere turning to beckon the Imladris maiden closer to her side.
Ailiell's motion carries Lothdaimoth's eyes along with it and they light on Caelwen. His smile couldn't be any brighter than it already is, in the exhiliration of his performance, but possibly it brightens anyways. Turning his steps, he follows after Ailiell and stops but a pace away from the two.
Calabrethil chews idly on a stem of grass. "I do, for the others here are so far my better...and I would bring honour yet to Meriden with my skill. I hope you minded not that I..." She shrugs. "I could not help it...I am grateful for your counsel...though my heart still longs to be able to tell Meriden I was able to..." She stops chewing, her eyes a bit shamed and a bit of an embarrassed smile touching her lips.
With something vaguely resembling grace, Ailiell drops by the elleth's side. "Too much spinning," she whispers, and falls back with a merry half-grin. "And oh, Caelwen!--" but here she breaks off, suddenly aware of Lothdaimoth standing by. A moment's hesitation, as half becomes whole --doubly over-- and she looks to the Dinlom maiden, as though for a cue.
Alaira smiles softly and leans close to Calabrethil whisper her reply, "... ... .... ..., ... it ... lovely ... ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... gift, ... ought also to ... ... fact ... ... ... ... yourself. ... ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ...."
Calabrethil laughs very softly. "It is the only way I can yet express my heart in this matter." A warm smile touches her lips. "I ask pardon for my hair...it gets away from me at times, and I don't think it tates too good!" She giggles a bit.
Getting gracefully to her feet, Calasil walks up to the hostess. "If I may borrow your harp for a song, mellon?" she asks of Eledurima softly. At the other elleth's nod of consent, she picks it up and settles herself with a gentle rustle of skirts. An arpeggio runs through the low voices of the crowd. When she sees that their attention is fixed on her, she raises her light voice and speaks. "I would like to play a piece. If any wish to dance to it, they are welcome to find partners now and spread out." She gestures around the open space.
Calabrethil grins again. "I would...but I think I would fall down...and I have no partner!" she hisses softly to her friend.
"Come on, then!" Caelwen's voice gains the laughing, teasing note of mirth poorly leashed as she upturns her face to look at the remaining dancer, and a hand beats at the grass to the side of her. "Sit with me! Or are you too aflush with dancing to remember how?"
A giggle breaks free when Ailiell drops near, but skitters away to silence shortly, though her grin seems to widen. She hesitates without words for a long while, then winks when no words find her mouth.
Ah, but Calasil's voice fills this hesitating silence, and the young Cennan's gaze turns hopefully up to Lothdaimoth again.
Eledurima smiles gently at Calabrethil after the nod to Calasil.
Calabrethil arches an eyebrow at Eledurima, a bit confused. What was this to mean? Sighing, she settles back again.
Lothdaimoth is beginning to fold himself down to the ground again when Caelwen's look to him catches his eye. He stops and straightens up. "Is that the look of one wishing to dance?" he asks softly and holds out a hand.
Alaira laughs softly and smiles to Calabrethil, "I would, but I think Valencil might be a bit jealous.." she adds, gesturing to the edhel at her side who seems to have lost himself in the songs and stars. "Perhaps we could all three dance together?"
Calabrethil smiles a bit. "Can you help me to my feet then, lady? I think the trees are still spinning a bit."
Almost the very moment Lothdaimoth's hand moves forward, Caelwen's darts fast and sure to his. She stands in a motion fast and lithe alike, her light silk gown seeming disapproving of the elleth's haste and trailing only slowly behind her. "Maybe," she answers the Counsel with a wink, then looks back down to Ailiell. "I hope I can dance half as well as you did." Her nose wrinkles in semi-mock anxiety. "I've never seen aught so fair." Her voice is light, and her gaze returns to her partner's face eagerly.
Alaira nods and rises to her own feet, offering one hand to Calabrethil and the other to Valencil
Calabrethil manages to get to her feet, but a bit too suddenly. She staggers a bit against Alaira's arm, murmuring an apology. "Do you have something I can tie back this mane with?" she asks softly in the lady's ear. "I don't want to trip you or your friend."
"Of course," Alaira replies with a nod as she reaches into her own hair and unties one of the many green ribbons that decorate it. "Here," she says, extending it to the other, holding the strip of fabric in her hands. "Now, come join us when you have finished..." she says then, grinning as she tugs Valencil to begin dancing.
Folding her hands beneath her head, Ailiell looks between Cennan and Counsel with a deep and quiet smile. "Fair words, and you have my thanks. But you have no need for worry, mellon, if you dance your heart." Looking then to the sky with a mild gaze she adds, softly, "And if you dance your heart, you will leave us all breathless."
Calabrethil swiftly ties her golden tresses into a long braid, then moves to join her two partners, gait still a bit unsteady. "Wither do I stand?" she whispers to Alaira. "By you or your friend?"
"Oh, I doubt it matters," Alaira says softly, "As we will move around quite a bit." She turns her head then and looks to the harpist, waiting for the song to begin.
Hand in hand with Caelwen, Lothdaimoth turns and walks back where he had come from such little time before. With a flash of smile for the other three, he stops some good ways from them - so that all will have room.
Calabrethil laughs again. "Not too much at first, I hope!" she grins as she moves to stand by the lady's side, her muscles tense and ready to begin at the first note
Curious, eyes soft, Caelwen's gaze lingers on Ailiell until she is tugged away by Lothdaimoth. For a moment it seems she is distracted by her thoughts yet, but when they halt, and she looks up to him, her gaze clears and it seems naught else troubles her thoughts, or even enters them. She smiles.
As the quendi begin to move out to find their space, Calasil gently strums the strings of the harp, testing the sound. Then, seeing everyone ready, a soft melody cuts through the quiet expectant mood of the elves.
Low notes ripple from her fingers, and the Talagand begins to play. The music is wistful at first, painting the picture of the golden orange of autumn, the wind rustling dry leaves, making them swirl upon the ground in patterns...
Calabrethil 's muscles tremble at the first notes, but waits for her partners before moving.
Lothdaimoth's eyes meet the cennan's and he smiles. As the music begins, he squeezes her hand and then drops it, turning a little to face her as he waits.
Taking her initial steps, Alaira begins to move left and right, sighing with deep contenment at the song. She takes one hand each of Calabrethil and Valencil, then begins to gently urge them to join her movements.
For a moment, Caelwen yet hesitates, body turned from Lothdaimoth though her eyes linger on him still. And then, the music seems to begin to soak into her skin, for she sways, hip-first, then turns away from him, caught briefly in a dance of her own ere the meandering of her feet carry her back to face him, fiery curls tumbled about her like leaves caught up in an autumn breeze. Her head tilts back, her hands lift, and she almost seems like laughter set to motion for a brief moment.
Calabrethil joins eagerly, the slow pace much to her liking after her earlier antics. She clasps Alaria's hand gently, her eyes flickering a bit as she lets herself meld with the fair notes of the skilled musician. She matches
Alaria's movements, letting her own slender grace complement the other two's, her bare feet light and noiseless upon the dewy grass and a soft smile touching her countenance.
Still a moment longer than Caelwen, Lothdaimoth moves only when she returns to him. Lifting his own hands, to clasp hers (if she will), he too begins to move to the quiet strains of the song.
The melody moves up in contrast to the deep tones that speak of an undisturbed landscape covered in snow, the onset of winter. Then the tempo quickens to speak of whirling eddies of snow, falling on brittle, staccato notes. The speed increases, though the music is still cold, and under the light fall of snow is the howling gale in a snowstorm. Then the low notes cease, and the music is peaceful again; falling softly but still unforgiving.
A shiver, a shudder courses through Caelwen's form like the true cold that perhaps the young Galadhrim maiden has yet to know. Her hands fit well into Lothdaimoth's once more, and she slips even closer to him as a traveller might to seek shelter from a snowstorm. Laughter again snaps to her eyes, frost glittering in sunrise.
But his movements turn to the glee of children playing. Throwing handfuls of snow at each other, careless of chill or storm. Circling, bending graceful before the music, he lets his own inner merriment lighten his feet.
Gradually, the dawning of the sun has come, in the midst of music and dancing...pale grey at first, then turquoise, then rosy fingers above the river and behind the hill, then, gradually, gold...Still burnished rather than garish, the sun permits the stars still and the moon, but the sky is lightening...
Alaira's steps are light and slow, turning among the other two in gentle circles. A smile plays upon her lips as she listens to the tune of the harp, letting the music control her body
And Caelwen's laughter does break free to mingle briefly with harp-notes and dawn-hues. Her fingers disentangle from Lothdaimoth's, and her light leather-shod feet seem to scarcely bend the grass as she dances away from him, a brow arched like sunset at sunrise.
Calabrethil echoes the movement, spinning slowly as well so that hands do not get tied up. She uses her free hand to mime catching snowflakes, while occasionally her gray eyes turn to regard them, as if she were studying each facet of the crystal flowers she has never seen. The elleth gives herself to the music, but also mindful of her partner's actions so that her own steps will complement. She continues the slow spinning, hoping it will stop soon...for she is still somewhat dizzy from her earilier whirling.
Now the music speeds up slightly as Calasil plays of spring, the renewal of the land as green once again is found on the gently rolling slopes of hills and plains. Flowers flourish in the sweet air, and the voices of birds fill the air. A rippling descant begins and tells of butterflies fluttering from place to place, bees busy among the flowers, and the melody changes key. Now it is bright, full of life as it leaps from note to note, spiralling ever upwards to meet the descant. The coming of dawn also tells in the suddenly warm tone of the music, energetic as the young offspring of animals are born into the world, full of wonder and joy.
For a moment, the counsel lets his partner escape, but then swift bare feet carry him after her. Until a fragment of melody pulls at him and he stops to dance in place, alone, yet still connected to the one but a little ways away. Never do his dark eyes leave the slender figure crowned with red-gold hair.
Laughing now, Alaira releases the hands of Valencil and Calabrethil, and then slowly spins in place. Her hands lift into the air joyous, as if she were imagining fragrant spring time blossoms falling around her, and then fall once more.
Calabrethil too breaks off to form her own dance, spinning tightly and fairly quickly, her hands rising and falling as she pretends to be throwing flowers up in the air. Then she falls flat on her back from dizziness, her eyes and hands raised to the brightening heavens.
Ah, but Caelwen's own eyes fall shut, and unaware of yet mimicking Alaira, she spins, curls pinwheeling in her wake, hands lifting and unfurling as a flower that blooms in the warm sun-- a sun that would shine on her even as Lothdaimoth's sable gaze does.
Deep blue eyes taking in the dancers and a hint of a smile upon her lips, the Talagand once more changes the melody, this time to the slow pace of high summer. The descant part fades, and a crescendo indicates the conclusion of the piece, before fading to silence. Rising, Calasil gives a nod of thanks to Eledurima for the use of her harp, then resumes her seat on the ground, merriment in her eyes as she watches the tired dancers rest.
Quiet again, Lothdaimoth steps towards Caelwen. His movements are measured still, in time with the song, though they might not be called dancing any longer. And carefully, not to unbalance or even touch her, he spreads his arms in a wide circle that encloses the spinning potter until she too comes to a halt.
A secret smile slips over Ailiell's countenance as she watches the dancers, her fingers idly tracing circles and characters in the long grass. The healer lifts her face to the new-kindled dawn with the simple gratefulness of one born well after the first daylight; lazy thoughts following on the heels of clearer as Calasil's melody fades with the stars.
Calabrethil remains on the ground, but rolls onto her side, eyes fixed on Eledurima as she waits for the elleth's judgement.
Alaira comes to a stop in her dancing, then falls to the sweet grass with a soft laugh and sprawls on her stomach to await what comes next.
Eledurima remains seated upon the grass, her small hands now softly on her lap. "None other?" She smiles again, and her eyes not earthbound but starry even so. "And yet, I know that Calriel intends for us to choose a winner for this even, I cannot bear to do it. For since the first of these meetings upon the lawn before the gateway to the King's Hill, never have I thought of it as contest but always as sharing and praise and the speaking of the Ainulindale, and how, alas, to judge that..."
Calabrethil rolls over next to the lady and whispers softly to her. "You will win again...in truth your skill surprasses all. I will have to learn that dance of you sometime." She pauses. "I often walk in the garden of the silver lights...if you wish to meet me there sometime."
Eledurima opens her hands and spreads them where she is. "For have they all done great and holy battle with the darkness...." She sighs a little and smiles.
Caelwen's twirl wanes, then halts a breath or two after the music does to bring her to face Lothdaimoth again. Chin ducked down but eyes glittering upward, her silken gown hovers a moment ere settling at her ankles. Then, fast as lightning, her arms are strewn about him in a quick, impulsive embrace, even as her gaze turns aside to seek Eledurima.
Alaira nods, but then adds with a touch of melancholy in her voice, "I shall, though in very few days my party will be returning to our home. But certainly we shall make acquaintances again at the next bardic congress."
Calabrethil nods a bit. "Yet we still have those few days." she says gently.
Swift arms wrap around him and loose again. Draping one arm over her shoulder, Lothdaimoth turns to listen to Eledurima.
Caelwen's arm slips behind Lothdaimoth as she, too, turns toward Eldurima. A furtive wink is shot to Ailiell.
Eledurima shakes her head and rises up, pacing to Calasil and putting out her arms for Lindesul.
Handing back the harp, Calasil waits patiently for the results, her expression unreadable.
Her brows rising slightly, Ailiell grins in response, folding both hands beneath her chin. Her own gaze wanders to Eledurima, and up again to the fire of the sky.
Alaira rolls on her back and pillows her head with her hands to gaze at the stars. She listens for Eledurima's next words, but her eyes linger above.
Calabrethil waits patiently beside Alaira, on her stomach, for she has small love for the piercing rays of the sun. "You'll win, I know you will..." she whispers to the lady, digging an arm into the lady's side as she raises herself onto one arm and cups her chin in her hand.
Taking the harp into her arms, Ele closes it in a gentle embrace, her eyes brilliant in the new sunrise, but distant. She raises her gaze to the sky and stands for a moment, moveless, bathed in light. It is as if there is no other in the lawn but she and the harp in her arms and whatever else there is within her.
Caelwen raises to her toes to murmur words to Lothdaimoth. "I ... ... and ... .... ... didn't see ..., but I ... imagine ... ... ... ... like ... ... ... ... you ...." A single eye shutters in yet another wink, and she drops to her heels again, face turned back to Eledurima.
Lothdaimoth looks down at his cousin and smiles. Bending his head just a bit, he whispers something in her ear. "... you ... ... ...? ... ... ... ... ... ... ....." Then straightens again.
Ele's eyes close for a moment. "This choosing goes much against my wont." She smiles a little sadly, "But here it is and not my judgement, think I, but perhaps some inspiration, for so have I asked to be directed. All....ALL brought so very much to the banishing of the darkness that, even with inspiration might the best not be chosen by us for inspiration is not certainty."
Calabrethil does not move, her gray eyes fixed on Ele, a light trembling in her frame
Caelwen leans a little against Lothdaimoth, her reply saved as her attention is turned more fully to Eledurima.
Eledurima says, "Such as I have, and that not certainty, in that orb would Calasil take commendations first, then Alaira, and then, would I say the rest all equally. For no one did less than any other.""
Calabrethil squawks softly, shivering. She hisses softly in Alaira's ear. "Does this mean I may tell Meriden that I took third this night?" Her voice is but a squeak.
The counsel's face lights up with a grin. "Well done," he calls. Some thought seems to cross his face and he turns towards Ailiell. "At first I forgot twas a contest and danced only for myself. I hope it does not disappoint you, mellon? Had you gone alone, you might have won..."
Alaira smiles at this announcement and inclines her head graciously to Eledurima to indicate her pleasure at such an honor. She replies to Calabrethil with a smile, "You will always be first to him."
Laughing in turn, Ailiell shakes her head. "No, definitely not..." And, her smile growing, she adds, "On both counts."
Eledurima lifts the fine, small harp and slips her arm through the tooled carrying strap.
A wordless cry of cheer is lifted from Caelwen's throat after the announcement, ere her elbow pokes at Lothdaimoth's ribs. "I wish I could have seen the beauty of the winners, for those that I did witness left me breathless."
Calabrethil laugsh at her friend, catching her hands. "Congratulations, lady!" she cries. "I -can- say I took third? I do not wish to lie, but if I can....!" She grins. "Well deserved, Lady Alaira!" She squeezes the lady's hands with al her strength.
Laughing, Alaira nods from her spot on the grass and squeezes Calabrethil's hands in return. "Certainly. Now go find this Meriden!"
Raising her head, Calasil seems startled at first when her name is said, for indeed, she did not think of it as a competition. Getting to her feet, the elleth went to congratulate the rest of the quendi.
Calabrethil laughs, her eyes wet with tears of joy, and impulsively hugs the lady. "Oh! I've never won anything before! Oh Lady, I will burst with joy, for your victory and for mine!" She gives a cry and hugs again.
Slowly down, down come the azure eyes of the Master, from the sky. And the faintest of smiles touches his lips as lithely stands Methenauth. Truly a night with a near-mystical aura. A fleeting glance to the elidh closer to the performing, and a smile flickering a bit wider, the Laiquende quietly leaves the lawn, his light gait easily found upon the verdant grass.
Alaira hugs Calabrethil in return, then says with a chuckle, "Please..do not...you would be an awful mess to clean up."
Ele steps back to allow the winners their accolades, gracious now and composed, smiling sweetly, perhaps with a little soft shadow of something gentle, and quietly, quietly, she slips away, once again, from present into dancing, into hope, into sparkling, into....memory.
Calabrethil laughs again, holding tighter. "Yes, so I would be!" She grins and pulls back to hold the elleth's hands. "You -must- meet him, lady! So you know all I have sung and danced of....you must! I'll introduce you...I should see him tomorrow...!"
Slipping away from the group, Calasil silently makes her departure.
"Then I will meet him tomorrow, but tonight, all I wish to do is lay on this grass..." Alaira replies with a wink. "And let my thoughts mingle with the stars."
Caelwen's arm slips from behind Lothdaimoth's back, and she catches at his hand. "Will you walk with me back to the city?" she begs, and trills her fingers in a farewell to Ailiell. Tugging the edhel along without even waiting for a reply, the young elleth has already begun a chattering monologue that trails after them and lingers in the air a wistful moment after the pair are lost from sight.
Calabrethil smiles gently. "Stars? It is nearly day!" she exclaims. "Though that does sound good...I am weary...but if I hide not from the sun, I will be too sore to move tomorrow. If you come to the garden, we will probably be there...or I can try to bring him to you...wither are you abiding in our fair city? I don't know where the Lady hides guests half the time." She giggles, then yawns, then cowers a bit at the approaching sun
"Among the others of my kind," Alaira replies simply. "Hiril Calriel has arranged a lovely space among them..." At that, she is lost in her thoughts, weariness from a night of memories falling over her, and she rests in the sweet grass until sunrise.
Calabrethil smiles as well, then rises softly and starts to make her way back to the City