The Wedding of Orion HR and Elena Tinuviel

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

The Wedding of Orion HR and Elena Tinuviel

Postby Hidden_Ring » Wed Sep 22, 2004 12:49 pm

The morning dawned fair and crisp on the 22nd of September as the sunshine shown in through the mists rising around the songhouse. The light struck a tall, white-blond Elf in the face and he rose, giving only a brief yawn as betrayal of the fact he had been awake until past 3am. His roommate, a Dwarf and one of his better friends, WindWalker, continued to snore as the copius amounts of pure grain alcohol produce a heavy soporific effect.

Smiling softly, Orion slips down the east stairs to the taproom floor to find goblets of iced fruit juice and sticky pastries on the bar. One of the trio of bar sprites, the taller of the two blue ones, bowed as he waved his hand infront of the offered breakfast.
Thank you Plunge. The others should be down or arriving soon.

A second sprite flies through the wall, a pink and shapely form, delightedly jingling a Marley-like chain with a smirking grin on her face. Good morning to you too, Loo. I see you are still enjoying the results of that test from last night.

Turning away, defeatedly shaking his head, the Elf collects a goblet of orange juice and a large cinnamon pastry dripping with icing before starting returning to his room. The Dwarf was in the process of waking up, splashing his face into a basin of clear water as drips trickle down to catch in his beard." By Durin's Beard, that moonshine of Orodben's was strong indeed. I truly loathe you for now, pointy-ear. How is it that you are ... chipper when you drank as much as me? And after only a few hours of rest?"

Ahh, that is simply a gift of my folk, to be able to rise refreshed after but a little rest. Lift up your chin, beardling, breakfast is provided below in the taproom. Pastry and juices, good enough for those expecting a feast later. And, I dare say that Plunge or Flush might be able to draft a hangover cure for you, if you ask nicely. With a whoop of delight, Windy went downstairs to find the waiting breakfast, leaving Orion alone to face the thoughts. Setting down both goblet and pastry roll, he reaches inside a pocket of his vest and retrieves a pouch of fine gems and other baubles. Sorting through the precious things, the Elf picks out two fine-wrought mithril rings. Test-fitting one ring to his hand, he removes it and then whistles softly to awake his Melody Ring.

Curulinde, wake up. I have a favor to ask of you.

~Yes, Master. What do you wish?~

Take this ring to Elena's maiden. She will be needing it later.

~Certainly. Leave it to me~
***********Curulinde RING ACTION***********
The soft, gentle chords of music sound softly from the moonstone Ring on Orion's right hand. As the music builds on itself and grows stronger, Pacabel's Canon seems to flow and take a life of it's own. Lifting the ring, it seems to be carried on a mist that cannot be seen but merely heard and felt: the joy of a day long in the coming, one given over to peace, love and harmony.

The song echoes in the hearts of all that hear it, as the Ring carries the small token to Elena's maid of honor.
~Take this token from Orion. I think you will be needing it later.~
********END Curulinde RING ACTION*************

Orion gazes out of the window into the bright sunshine, sighing with patient anticipation
It's happening today. I'm getting married today.
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Postby Lady_Galadriel786 » Wed Sep 22, 2004 8:21 pm

The morning dawned fair and crisp on the 22nd of September as the sunshine filtered in through the mists rising around the AHUR. A solitary Elf sat by one of the many windows of the Hall, watching the sunrise with distant eyes, lost in thought. Everyone else was still asleep, having gone to bed just a few hours earlier to get a little rest before heading to the Splintered ChamberPot.

Elena had not been able to sleep; she was too nervously excited. So she had sat by the window, long after the party had ended and everyone had returned to their rooms, watching the sky lighten from a deep sapphire to a pale azure, and thinking of the past year and a half. So many things had happened in that time, mostly good, and she had found a happiness she had thought she’d never feel again. Orion was truly special, and he had made her whole again. She thanked the Powers every day for bringing him into her life.

She smiled absently at her own sentimentality, twisting the ring on her left hand, wondering what Orion was doing at that moment. A soft, melodious voice spoke in her ear. I could always ask Curulinde, and find out. Ninniach’s voice sounded amused. “Can you do that?” asked Elena, blue-grey eyes widening in surprise. Of course, Bearer. He is also a being of Melody. Elena pondered over this information a moment, then shook her head. “It is all right. I would rather not.” As you wish.

Pushing back a strand of silver-black hair from her face, Elena turned away from the window and headed towards her room, which she was currently sharing with Luthy. Time was passing, and there was still much they had to do. Elena called to Ninniach as she walked, and said, “I need you to wake the others. Gently, though; they’ve all had a long night. They need to be refreshed and alert for the day ahead.” And you, Bearer? Elena laughed, stopping to gaze out a window once again. “I couldn’t be more awake if I tried.”

* * * * * Ninniach RING ACTION * * * * * *
Tinkling laughter filled the air around her, and the amber stone began to glow as a golden-silver thread of melody rose from her Ring and travelled swiftly to all the rooms where people lay sleeping, waking them all one by one, before returning to where she stood. The melody caught Elena by the hand and twirled and spun her around to the happy song, and pulled her towards the Breakfast Room, laughing merrily. Behind her, whenever the music touched something, a single rose bloomed there – red, white, yellow, pink, peach – and soon the delicate perfume of the roses filled the air. At last Elena reached the Breakfast Room, and as she reached the door, the thread of melody disappeared, but the song continued to play softly in the background, a light, pleasing tune, washing away all weariness and banishing all doubts and fears and sadness. For this day, for a while, everyone would be happy and content.
* * * END Ninniach RING ACTION * * *

“Thank you, Ninniach,” said Elena softly, settling down on one of the empty chairs. Tis my pleasure, Bearer. Silmarien and I both wish you the best on this day. “My Moon Ring has been rather quiet this morning, though. Why is that?” asked Elena, her tone mild, but her question deadly serious. SHe knew Silmarien was up to something. You shall see soon enough. Before Elena could ask what she meant, Ninniach fell quiet, as Luthy and Sil walked through the door, talking happily.
Last edited by Lady_Galadriel786 on Thu Sep 23, 2004 3:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby prettygaladriel » Thu Sep 23, 2004 1:04 am

The morning of 22nd September dawned bright, fresh, crisp....and undeniaby laden with the scent of excitment and expectancy. Legyviel Khelekwen smiled as she walked through the halls of AHUR, her ice-blue eyes sparkling with happiness. Her unbound hair rained down her back in a cascade of silver-blue and she flipped it out of her eyes impatiently, wondering when they'd all have to start getting ready. The bridesmaids dresses were beautiful- she's seen them before when they'de been planning the wedding. And the bride's dress....

That was beyond words.

Orion and Elena. She couldn't think of a better pair. They deserved each other so much, and this wedding was bound to be a grand event. Of course, it would have been better if she'd gotten a little more sleep last night, but the bachalorette party had gone on so long she had only gotten a few hours sleep. Hiding a delicate yawn behind one hand, she entered the Breakfast Room, Legyviel looked around, spotted Elena and made a beeline in her direction. Her friend smiled mischeviously as she came over.


"Late night last night?" she asked. Legyviel laughed and broke off a piece from the lembas lying nearby.

"One of the latest ever. Though I must admit it was fun," she replied, nibbling on the lembas. Luthy and Sil, coming up to them, laughed when they heard her last words.

"'Fun'? i'd say that was one of the biggest understatements i've ever heard...." Luthy said. Legyviel rolled her eyes but she was laughing with the other three as she finished off her lembas and dusted off her hands.

"Say, when are we going to get ready? The bridesmaids dresses won't take long, but it's going to take me ages to do my hair...." she said, holding up a long strand of the silver-blue cascade.

"I was thinking we should wait till everyone else wakes up and get ready at the same time. Perhaps i should start earlier though.....that bride's dress we picked out looks deceptively simple on the outside, believe me," Elena replied, sipping some fresh orange juice.

"Orion's side has it easier than us, their outfits being pretty simple," she continued. Legyviel nodded thouhtfully, her eyes lighting up suddenly as a thought struck her.

"Speaking of which, who's going to be my escort? just so i'm prepared beforehand, y'know," she said nonchalently. Elena glanced at her sideways as she reached for a piece of toast.

"I know nothing about that except that he's going to be wearing a kilt," she replied, very carefully keeping her face blank. Sil was choking on her drink and Luthy's eyes were wide when a purely malicious smile bloomed on Legyviel's face and she said,

"That includes Master Erinhue, right?"
Last edited by prettygaladriel on Thu Sep 23, 2004 1:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby prettygaladriel » Thu Sep 23, 2004 1:07 am

:oops: :oops:
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Postby Silwen » Thu Sep 23, 2004 4:36 am

When the day broke, Silwen finally retired from the window. She had had sufficient rest and was looking forward to the beautiful day and what it may bring for them all. It wasn't long before she heard the first stirrings in the house and so she got herself ready and headed towards the breakfast room where she found a few early risers.

"Good morning," she said cheerily and sat down beside Legyviel and Elena. "I can feel it will be a wonderful day," she said reassuringly. "The blood is not merely flowing through my veins, it is dancing - and that is a good sign!"

She could not believe that this was t be her first wedding. She had never been to one before and was not very accustomed t the proceedings but she hoped that what she had heard during the preparations was enough to keep her from making any fatal mistakes. Oh, but nothing can be fatal on a day like this, she concluded. She could hardly wait to put on her bridesmaid's dress. But that would have to wait. First she would have to take care of the decorations. The flowers were to arrive soon! She hoped they would be as pretty as when she had chosen them in agreement with Elena.
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Postby Vanaladiel » Thu Sep 23, 2004 8:50 am

Having risen before the sun, Vana had slipped outside to walk in the meadow and pick some flowers. She so enjoyed the waking of the day so she was happy to be there to wish the day a good morning. Her feet damp with the morning dew as she walked in the early rays of the new day. She smiled knowing the excitement that was to follow in the day. Her sweet friends marrying in but a few hours and yet it seemed as though they had just met not but a day or so ago. My how time flies she thought to herself as she reached down for a little blue forget-me-not to add to her morning bouquet. Her dress of soft thistle blue softly moving about her as she walked. The grass bed soft beneath her dainty feet. Vana glanced back over her shoulder as the sun peeked over the mountains and through the tree tops. She knew that soon others would be stirring so she watched with wonder the sunrise then headed off for the AHUR and the others.

She danced along the path that lead to the back door and quietly entered so as not to disturb anyones beauty sleep. She could tell peering in that some had awoken but many still slumbered on, at least for the moment.

Tiptoing in towards the kitchen she could hear voices and laughter. So she opened the door and danced into the kitchen. Reaching for a vase to place the bundle of meadow flowers in, she placed it upon the center of the kitchen table.


"Good Morning ladies" she smiled, "Are we ready for today??"

She stopped and smiled at Elena then gave her a big hug!

"You are about to be a wife, sweet friend. I hope he is ready for you!" Vana giggled and then reached over and broke off a bit of Lembas for herself. She sat down to nibble on it as the others continued their conversation.
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Postby erinhue » Fri Sep 24, 2004 7:59 pm

As the first light of day grew it its golden maturity, Erinhue was pulling on a pair of gloves, the gloves that went with the protective suit the master bard was dressed in.

"Alright we can't put this off any longer. The wedding is today and you are gonna look your best if it kills both of us."

There was no one else in the room but Erinhue was not talking to himself. A complaining jangle of notes came from the untouched strings of his dragonharp and the little dragon's eyes flashed dangerously red.

"Don't you threaten me, you old worm," Erinhue responded, "I'm not the one with the dull scales." Pulling on the second glove, he picked up a jar of a very specially concocted polish. As he closed in on the harp the little dragon's red eyes rolled and tiny sparks of flame snorted from its nostrils.

"Yes I know this will probably hurt me more than it hurts you, but we are doing it any way." Erinhue glanced out the window at the early morning light and caluclated that he just might have enough time to finish polishing and tuning the harp before the wedding started.
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Postby Aerin » Sat Sep 25, 2004 5:26 pm

Aerin rose from the bed in the small room she'd been using as a temporary bedroom, glancing out the window full onto a beautiful sunrise. She quickly pulled on an older dress, wanting to go for a walk outside while everyone else was still sleeping off the effects of the bachelor and bachelorette parties.

An hour or so later the elf returned and passed by Erinhue's door, stopping to peek inside. She quickly pulled her head back out when she saw her husband in his protective suit, getting ready to clean Agarak.


"Have fun cleaning up Agarak, dear! And Agarak, don't be TOO hard on him - he is in the processional, remember." Laughing softly to herself, she returned to her temporary room to begin dressing and getting ready for her friends' wedding.
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Postby Monoceros » Sat Sep 25, 2004 5:37 pm

It hasn't yet dawned but Mono busy choosing a dress for the wedding. It was a very difficult problem. Finally she stopped at the gown of lighter color. The color of liliac. Shadow was playing with strings and accidentally bumping into everything. Mono brushed her hair and looked at the kitten.

"You're not going to the wedding in this, are you? Let me help you." She took him and locked a saphire collor round his neck. Although he defended his honor. "Oh, come on. You look so nice." Several minutes later he gave up.

She put on her rings, tiny golden chain, earings and tiara. Then she made sure she was ready and went downstairs. In the kitchen she saw ladies that had already woken up. She greeted them and huged Elena.

"Congratulations, my lady," she whispered.

Mono looked around and noticed that everyone was having a breakfast. She made a huge goblet of cofee to get rid of sleepy state.
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Postby Arwen_Sol » Sun Sep 26, 2004 3:06 am

The sun had already begun the ascension toward its heavenly zenith when Arwen awoke slowly from a deep slumber. Her ebony mane fell in lose, flowing ripples about her shoulders as she rose and padded softly toward the open window to gaze out at the glorious vista. The rain from the night before had ceased close to dawn and the peredhel breathed in deeply of the refreshing scent. Clear beads of moisture stirred along the veins of leaves and brightened the blades of grass in silver streaks. Already the sun was evaporating the dampness and as Arwen let the light warm her face, a slight smile touched her lips. It was going to be a glorious day for a wedding.

In other parts of the building, her elf-ears picked up the echo of movement as the night’s revelers arose, some most likely clutching their aching heads and wondering why they never learned their lesson. Wryly Arwen pushed away from the window and traveled down the stairs, her pale nightdress trailing after her in wisps of lace, and strode toward the kitchen. Working amid the resident ghosts, who were efficiently going about their duty of preparing a hearty breakfast for the residents, Arwen managed to find the ingredients she needed to prepare a concoction that was supposedly a superb cure for a particular post-party malady.

Just as she was about to step into the other room, a feathery touch grazed Arwen’s shoulder and she whirled in surprise. However nobody stood there and her brow furrowed in confusion, then suddenly she heard the faint sound of music and felt something solid materialize in her closed fist. Though her first instinct was to drop whatever was in her hand a deeper feeling prevented it and instead she uncurled her fingers. As the morning sun streaming through the window touched the curve of the fine mithril ring cradled in her palm, Arwen heard the unmistakable notes of a familiar melody.

~Take this token from Orion. I think you will be needing it later~ A voice, which was more of a thought than a verbalization, said and Arwen nodded, slipping the ring into the pocket of her nightdress. As the tune faded away, the peredhel grinned and shook her head, “Thanks for scaring the life out of me,” she said to no one in particular.

Carrying a large, labeled jug into the Breakfast room the peredhel placed it on the buffet-style table in a conveniently visible site then poured a tall glass of fresh orange-juice for herself. Walking over to a circular table where a few of the ladies had already gathered, Arwen greeted them all warmly, leaning down to hug the bride who, despite a smile, looked much too nervous to eat the cooling lembas on her plate. Instead Elena was crumbling little bits of the elven-bread into little piles as the ladies continued to talk about the preparations that had been made and all the work that was yet to be done.

“Everything is going to be perfect,” Arwen said to her friend, beaming confidently. Deciding that she might as well take charge momentarily, giving Aerin--- their official wedding coordinator--- a chance to finish her morning ablutions before joining them, Arwen turned to Silwen, “Have the flowers for the decorations arrived yet?” she asked, mentally calculating how long it would take them to put up the tents and tables for the reception, plus those for the actual ceremony.

Going over a mental checklist, Arwen hoped Aerin would arrive soon because she could not remember who was supposed to be in charge of setting up the somewhat hefty tents in the outlying fields. Next, the raven-haired peredhel turned to Legyviel whom she hadn’t had the chance to see since her return, “Did I hear you mention something about the bridesmaids’ dresses?” she said cheekily, knowing very well what the other woman had said.

As the table of females broke out into giggles, Arwen leaned in conspiratorially, “I know most of you haven’t seen the dresses yet, so let me tell you that they are going to be gorgeous! And the bride’s gown is a work of art! The Weaver’s Guild really out-did themselves this time and I know everyone is going to look absolutely beautiful!”

The level of excitement was audible and Arwen chuckled at the exuberance of old and young alike. “I needed to discuss something with you,” Elena finally was able to say as she pulled Arwen aside.

“What’s wrong, mellon-nin?” Arwen asked, drawing Elena’s hand through hers so that they could walk around to the far side of the room without stray ears overhearing.

“Just the regular bridal jitters, I suppose,” Elena said on a laugh. Arwen heard the doubtful words but what she listened to was how her friend said them. Despite the anxiety, which was a perfectly normal symptom, Arwen never missed the look in Elena’s eyes--- the dreamy, softening whenever she thought about Orion, which told the peredhel better than words how much the bride loved… and was loved in return.


[Edited for the "bride's dress" link]
Last edited by Arwen_Sol on Tue Sep 28, 2004 12:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby -|---Anduril » Sun Sep 26, 2004 3:49 pm

It was Andariel's first night of proper sleep and she awoke with the dawn. She had forgotten how loud the birds sang at this hour, and was half pleased to be up so early on the morning of the wedding, just so she could listen to them chirp.

Andy got out of bed and looked out of the window into what what promising to be a beautiful warm day. So far it seemed as if everything would go perfectly for Orion and Elena and she was glad, because they both deserved the best.

She looked down at the grounds and saw a familiar face look up at her. "Shadowbreath!" she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly for this hour. She was pleased to see that her tame wolf friend was still around. Andy wanted to go down to him immediately, but she refrained, she knew she still had to pick out and air a dress for the wedding. After much thought she chose a light flowing one, that seemed to match the sky that morning and layed it out on her bed.

With that, she went downstairs and out in the grounds and ran to Shadowbreath who leaped into her arms. Andy then set off to pick some small blue flowers to make a headband wreath for the wedding. It was not her usualy style, but today she wanted to look her best.

The sun was rising now, and the day was filled with light. Andy was almost reluctant to go inside, but her grumbling stomach told her she should get some breakfast. Being in a good mood, she froliced into the kitchen, after grabbing a piece of bread, where she saw Elena looking flushed, but excited.

"Congrats!" she mumbled with her mouth still half full. Embarrassed, she swallowed and apologized but Elena smiled being all too accusomed to Andy's less-than-ladylike ways to expect any better from her.
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Postby luthienelflover » Sun Sep 26, 2004 8:01 pm

When Luthien awoke in the room she had been sharing with Elena, the bride-to-be was already gone.

Not that that was a surprise, she thought wryly as she snuggled under her warm covers. The sun was cascading through the window and toying brightly with her eyelids; she put her face under the soft green comforter to escape it, but soon found the air under there hot and stifling. With a groan she threw them back, eyes tightly shut to resist the sun's assault. When she felt she could open her eyes without being prematurely blinded, she did, and climbed out of bed.

The room was warm, but not hot; the floorboards beneath her feet were almost soft in the heat. She stood for a moment in her underclothes, reveling in the still, sweetly scented air.

There was a movement behind the bed. She jumped backward, flailing around for the daggers that would have been in her sleeves had she been fully dressed, before realizing that it was just Shihab.

The red-gold puppy yawned and stretched, showing his tiny sharp teeth, and then meandered over to her, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling. She laughed and knelt to scratch behind his ears; as soon as her face was down on his level, he leapt at her, tail wagging even more as he slobbered all over her. She laughed again, long and happily, rubbing the puppy's ears and neck and (when he got tired of that) his tummy.

When she finally stopped, he stared mournfully at her, as if asking don't you love me anymore? She stared at his melancholy expression, his sad liquid eyes, and then with an exaggerated sigh knelt to scratch his belly one last time.

When she had finally satisfied his attention-cravings, he went to chase shadows and she went to dress.

Her wardrobe was near-bursting with clothing. When she had journeyed to the Pot with the other ladies from the Bachelorette party she had been unable to decide what to wear... and because she had a strong and trusty horse, she had decided to just bring all her choices. That way, she had decided, she would not regret her decision later.

The wardrobe was taller than she was, and it smelled faintly of cedar. She fingered through her clothing, trying to decide on something suitable. There was the old gold dress, still mostly clean... the purple dress with the wine stain on it... the green dress she had only worn once... the blue dress, the silver dress, the other green dress... she could go on.

Finally, she had it.

She took the blue dress out. It was deep blue, the color of the calm sea. From the gold dress she took the creamy golden sash. She tied it loosely around her waist.

"Perfect," she muttered. "Now I just need to put it somewhere the puppy can't get to..." She glanced at Shihab, who was now curled up on her bed. She shook her head -- the covers would smell like dog later -- puppies got tired so fast -- he was a lazy little creature. But she changed quickly out of the dress and draped it over the top of the wardrobe. He noticed her motion and looked up sleepily; she spared him a scratch behind the ears and then changed into a simple grey dress to go to breakfast in.

She ran into Isilme in the hallway. For some reason, the halls were scattered with roses of every color. As the two of them made their way down the narrow wooden corridors toward the Breakfast Room they knew was somewhere -- though they weren't entirely certain of exactly where -- they commented on the relative health and beauty of each flower.

The scent of roses filled the air strongly, and Luthien commented, "I'm surprised Vaiwalire hasn't been acting up more. You know how it loves the scent of roses."

Just then she and Isilme heard a faint whine. They glanced around, but could not see where it was coming from. They glanced at one another, and Luthy shrugged.

They spotted Elena as they entered the Breakfast Hall after some wandering. Luthien waved to her, and Isilme smiled; she smiled back. She looked nervous, and Luthien couldn't blame her.
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Postby erinhue » Mon Sep 27, 2004 6:05 am

The morning ticked away in battle as Erinhue struggled to polish and then tune his uncooperative instrument. Aragak might have stoically borne one of these intrusive indignities, but both at the same time was more than its volatile temperament could endure.

The room was full of smoke and areas of the ceiling and walls showed evidence of scorching. A sustained growl came from the harp punctuated by shrill, agitated notes and flames snorted from the little dragon’s flared nostrils. Erinhue’s gloves and protective suit was singed and torn. The bard himself wore several fresh scratches. The dragonharp’s tiny fangs were stained faintly scarlet., but it’s green-gold scales were gleaming brightly, its strings taught and ready to play.

That one ordeal over, Erinhue stripped off the tattered suit and turned to the next trial. Orion had requested that his groomsmen wear authentic Highland dress. This meant facing the Feildih –Mhor, the belted plaid.

Erinhue pulled the lace cuffed jacobite shirt over his curly head and laced the neck all the way up. Next the yards of ruffled silk cravate was wound around his neck and tied with the ruffled ends neatly arranged to hide the shirts laces. He sat down to pull on the cream colored hose and adjusted the garters so that the socks came just below his knees. He turned the sock tops to a neat cuff with the blue flashes showing at just the right spot.

On the desk beside him lay the deep blue waist length jacket, its silver buttons flashed where they caught the light. Erinhue picked up the Sgian Dubh,. The small knife had a black with silver mounts its sharp blade encased in a silver studded black sheath. The knife was carefully tucked into his sock held by the garter with its black and sliver hilt showing two inches above the deep blue flash on his right leg. Next Erinhue took a comb to his unruly mob, preferring even that to trying to put on the great kilt.

The blues in the tartan plaid would compliment his sea gray eyes but Erinhue did not look forward to attempting to wrap himself up in the 12 or so feet of woolen material laid pleated before him on the floor.

As Orion’s instructions indicated Erinhue carfully threaded the kilt belt underneath the material he had spent so much time carefully folding into one inch pleats. Again as per the instructions he laid face down on the floor with the material beneath him and tried to wrap the quilt.

His efforts had him rolling about on the floor first one way and then another, wrapping and un wrapping himself in the woolen material and looking like a demented éclair. As he continued to try and get the material to fall just above his knees he tried to make adjustments in how he lay to accommodate his long legs and get the kilt to the proper length. As he continued as soft tinkling grew in volume and intensity until the room was filled with short sharp bursts of trilling notes.

“I’m sure this is all very funny for you, Agarak.” Frustration sounded in the bard’s talented voice. “You’ll probably get a real good laugh when and IF I ever get this blasted thing on properly.”

A choking sound came from the harp and the dragon’s jeweled red eyes went wide with hilarity.

“All right, I guess I deserved that.” Erinhue smiled and stood up abandoning his attempts. “It will be bad enough with everyone looking at my knobby knees but it would be all the worse if I got it all wrong. You’ve been paid back for my polishing you, now would you please?”

A few more muffled sounds came from the untouched strings of the harp and the its red eyes flashed.

The yards of material rose from the floor, its retained pleats held in place by the thin leather belt. In minutes it wrapped itself around the bard’s trim waste, around and over his left shoulder. Two sword shaped silver pins tucked themselves into place holding the loose fold of fabric and a wide deep blue leather belt with a polished silver buckle fastened all in place. The Mithril silver brooch bearing the insignia of the Bard’s Guild’s Master Bard floated over and hovered in the air until Erinhue plucked it up and fastened it to hold the material falling over his shoulder.

The white fur and silver sporran with its chain link silver belt flew by. Erinhue caught it , adjusted the purse like accessory to its proper position and fastened the belt around his waste. Turning around to face the dragonharp, Erinhue held his arms out to the side and asked, “How do I look?”

A stifled choking sound burst forth into choppy clumps of high pitched notes.

Erinhue looked down at himself, and then into the mirror. He would have preferred a nice pair of trousers and boots, but the look fit the illustration Orion had sent as a guide and the kilt was more comfortable than he had imagined.
“Well no matter what I look like, or how much you laugh, Orion thought enough of me to do me the honor of asking me to stand with him today the least I can do is wear what he wants. I don’t think it looks so bad, lot better than I thought as a matter of fact.”

The choking sound returned.

“Yeah well, I don’t care what you think, Agarak, I’m going to the wedding, just like this.”
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Postby wind_walker » Mon Sep 27, 2004 8:16 pm

He trundled down the stairs and met an angry bar sprite at the bottom.
"Mess???" he inquired confusedly. "Last night? ..... Oh, the party? ...... Didn't warn you ahead of time? ..... No food til its taken care of?" His heart sank, he didn't have enough on him to foot the bill. He looked about, then whispered a deal to the sprite. Soon a few good pastries, shot glass with some strange medicine, a juice, and a note were in his hands.
He hurried with it back upstairs and settled at the end of his bed. He eyed the shot glass warely, but downed it without much problem. He caughed a number of times, it was harsh to taste.
"Hangover remedy?" asked Orion as he got his kilt on.
"Sprite Special Plus." responded Windy after a few sips of juice. He munched a tart while looking over the note. It had designs and drawing scribbled all over it.
"Hmm?" inquired Orion looking over the dwarf's shoulder at the strange looking design. "Looks like a strange kind of house arrangement, but that really big thing looks...like the candleholders downstairs."
"Thats because they are," Windy replied, "a gift to repay the sprites."
"Oh," Orion said simply. He moved to the window and his face fell. "Windy! The rain, you didn't forget??? Did you?"
"Relax, Orion, I am true to my word. Pull the curtains shut so it doesn't bother you and as soon as I am dressed. I'll have a word with it."
Thunder boomed outside as got the kilt and belt correct on the fourth try...

Outside, the two looked at the light drizzle wetting everything that had been laid out thus far. Orion was almost angry, he had worked hard on all this and it was moments from ruin. All his best dwarf could do was grin.
*****Begin Ring Action*****
"Thats quite enough," Windy commented and suddenly the winds shifted direction and blew twice what it had been. The dark clouds fleed the sky leaving only some pretty whie fluffy ones in their wake. The sunlight glittered on everything, making it look as if Nature herself had decided to set the scene.
*****End Ring Action*****
Windy grinned even bigger, if that was possable. Orion just stood slackjawed at the work. Erinhue stepped up behind them put a hand on Windy's shoulder as the three of them looked at it.
"Well I'll be," Hue spoke first.
"Yes," the dwarf spun to see the other in a kilt like he, they surveyed each other and chuckled. "Orion, you have some creatve ideas, but a dwarf and man in kilts side by side will make interresting pictures." Windy commented. He looked up at his friends..."Um...question, tho...Elena...she didn't happen to get a hobbit or lady dwarf as her Maid of Honor, did she?" He blushed at having to ask. But he had to escort whoever it was, this was important thing for him to know!

-WW
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Postby EntwifeLost » Tue Sep 28, 2004 12:00 am

Most of the Day had passed for the Entwife. It seemed to be days, but was only a few hours, that she worked in the nearby glade that morning. The undeniable forces of Earth unbound themselves , as Enty used her Earth Ring Erutan, and concentrated her senses on Onodrim magic, imploring the fields to bloom at attention. .Months before she implored the Blessings of Fimbrethil, to ready the soils and seedlings for this very day. They provided the lush florals for the Wedding. Elena’s designers had the best of each to choose from. The Glade was now a maze of Color. Perfectly placed beds of all the flowers of Middle Earth could be seen for acres. The rarest of small blooms from the Elvish Eglantine, The bells of Mallos, and the perfect points of Elanor. The fragrance of wild and exotic roses, blanketed the air and a perfect breeze spread its mists across the Area.

She took no rest and walked quickly to the Window of the Breakfast Area, of the now festive looking Songhouse. The tents and decorations were moving and forming in the field beyond and she saw many arriving and preparing things for the Ceremony. Enty leaned in the window, her large face took up the entire frame, and she hoooomed slowly. Her appearance startled Vana, in the kitchen
“Enty!!!” She gasped as she caught her breath!

“Hulllo there Vana dear! The smells coming from here are indescribable…!” she said as her eyes went the pots cooking, and things baking in the large hearth oven…

Enty looked for Elena and the others in the room and said,

“Bright days are here and so are the flowers! Dearest sister Elena. Let us know take you on your Walk. Your last Walk among the Earth, before your heart will be bound forever , and no longer a Maiden you will be….!” Enty smiled and motioned to Silwen, who leaped at the anticipation of all the flowers ready for her crafty hands.

Elena and Silwen walked out and around the building to join the Entwife. Enty showed Silwen the approaching line of green Elves, that carted in large barrels and wrapped paper packages. They contained all accent flowers, vines and greenery that Silwen would need. At her word, she would have 100 or more hands to make her designs come to life, for the Wedding.

“ Enjoy them all. They were grown with ancient secrets of the Entwives, and shall do what you command Silwen! Little work or time will be needed once you’ve got the combinations in your head….Simply sing to them!.” said Enty

“Uh…Sing? “ questioned Silwen, “I was thinking along the lines of grouping and using ribbons!”

Enty giggled and said to them both, 'Where there is a Melody in your heart, and it seeps from your Lips. These flowers of magic, to you, will betwixt!"
"Your voice alone will call them to be where you wish, Silwen"


Enty, Elena and Silwen walked along the Lavish Glade and Enty pointed out the flowers to Elena, allowing her to pick them at her pleasure. Silwen and Elena looked at colors and smelled the air of each petal. The brides face bright with Nature’s essence, and her heart free to dance among the rows of Draping blooms. The pair of maidens tested combinations and held many colored bouquets up to the Sun. Silwen ooohing and ahhhing at the Brides choices.
Enty began to Song as the pair danced in the most beautiful way, through the Glade, surrounded with every living plant that bloomed on Middle Earth.

Lodeee dooo Lodeee Daaaaaah
Morning has passed!
The florals grow with brilliance
For the Bride at Last

Lodeee deeee Lodeee Duuuum
The day now gleams bright
The Party is here
The Joining is in Sight

Lodeee dooo Lodeee Daaaaaah
Lady Elena the Bride!
Now destined for her groom
Which none will divide!


Elena & Silwen caught on to the rhythm of Enty’s song, as their hearts were now entranced in the Free Spirit Trance. They sang along happily in the most beautiful gleams of afternoon Sunshine. In the rainbow rows of The Lavish glade, they chose the bouquet for the Lovely Bride of Orion.

Enty still hummed the Melody, as they made their way back to the others in the Wedding Party, a pair of Elves followed them, carrying stacks and baskets of flowers.

” Elena the Bride, I shall see you at the Ceremony! You’ve danced in the fields, and warmed in the Days Sun. Go with full heart and strong strides into the Arms of your Love! ”
Enty said as she pointed her Earth Ring down to the ground and aimed it back towards the path they took. In beams of green misty light, a long carpet of rose petals and pansies of every color formed a plush path. They covered the path back to the Brides Room, and Elena and Silwen smiled as they took its fragrant way back to the prepare for the Wedding.
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Postby Arwen_Sol » Tue Sep 28, 2004 10:46 am

Watching Enty, Elena and Silwen walk toward a small glade where the Entwife had prepared the magical blooms and greenery that would grace the wedding, Arwen nibbled on her lower lip and wondered how long it would take for the tents to be erected before Silwen was ready to decorate them. Looking out the window toward where the Baranduin gurgled merrily along its timeless path, and further still to where the Brandywine Bridge traversed over its waters, she sighed to see it empty of crossers.

‘Hobbits,’ she thought to herself, rolling her green eyes wryly. When the wedding party had first discussed the idea of an outdoor party Arwen had gone over different options for overhead protection and since The Shire was close by to the party location it seemed almost destined that the ones she’d ask were the hobbits, who were renowned for their parties… Unfortunately they were not well-known for their timeliness.

Rising to her feet, the peredhel carried her empty plate and glass to the kitchen and put them in the sink, nodding her thanks to the spirits there who efficiently took care of that chore. Breathing in deeply, a smile lit Arwen’s face at the delicious scents all ready filling the room, the preparation for the wedding feast had begun! And it was going to be fantastic.

Though they hadn’t really discussed it much, it had seemed the logical choice to grace the tables with the kind of bounty usually reserved for the Bard’s festivals, especially seeing as the guest list was comprised mostly of the minstrels and their friends. Plus there were a few extra features in store for everyone that was sure to delight the senses. And of course, she couldn’t forget the cake, reminding herself to speak with Elena about the final design before the confection got made, Arwen marched back up to her room behind the ‘Pot to change into more efficient garments.

A few minutes later she was skipping back down the stairs, the plain, blue cotton of her dress weaving around her slender calves as she lifted the hem to take the steps two at a time. Efficient as always her hair was up, to keep those stray strands out of her eyes as she worked. Returning to the kitchen she managed to borrow a large apron that would hopefully keep her clean until the party, and tied it in a handy knot around her waist. As she exited toward the main clearing where the tents and tables would be set up, Arwen heard the familiar sound of wagons crossing over the Bridge.

The dark-haired elf walked toward the line of hobbits as they approached, smiling fondly. Though they did like to take their own sweet time about it, she knew she could always rely on them to keep their word. “About time,” she called out and giggled at the chorus of “Well---”s “Y’see…”s and “Blame him!”s that comment raised. “No matter,” Arwen reassured cheerily, guiding them toward the clearing.

Looking up at the sun to gauge the time, she called their attention, “Thank you all for coming, lads!” There was a momentary rousing cheer, truth be told there needn’t have been any thanks as the Hobbits would use any excuse to attend a party. “We don’t have much time all right, so let’s get these tents set up,” with a ‘heave-to’ the shire-folk started their unbundling and rummaging around in the wagons--- six of them, piled high with long carved poles and yards and yards of white canvassing.

In a surprisingly short time, the numerous Hobbits with a little help from her magic, had managed to upright all the tents, with no mishaps (which was surprising unto itself) and Arwen pointed the way toward the Breakfast room, to the group of hungry hobbits ready for their second breakfast (or first lunch depending on how one chose to count it). The periannath gladly availed themselves of the ‘Pot’s hospitality, allowing Arwen a moment to admire their handiwork and cross out another item on her checklist.

The tents were vast, rising like creamy white clouds amid the verdant foliage surrounding the clearing, the supple cloth fluttering in the soft breeze. Each of the long wooden beams that had been lodged into the earth had been covered with garlands of white chiffon that shimmered iridescent sparkles of gold and silver as the wind whisked through them. Enchanted, Arwen couldn’t wait to see how they would look once festooned with trails of ivy and clusters of multi-hued roses and woven together with ribbons and lace.

Going through her mental catalog, she determined that the next thing to do was set up the areas that the ceremony and the reception were going to take place. Back into the ‘Pot she went, arms swinging as she tried to hurry her steps and make the most of the time left before the guests started arriving. “Now where are those tables…” she muttered, opening and closing a series of wooden doors with shining brass knobs. She’d been told that extra tables and tableware was stored in one of the ‘Pot’s storerooms that were on the other side of the building from the living quarters.

“Ah! Here we go,” she said, pushing wide the door right at the end to reveal stacks of wooden tables, chairs and shelves with folded snowy-white linens as well as various styles of cutlery. There was so much furniture in there that Arwen was goggle-eyed, the spacious room seemed incongruous in the relatively small building, but then again, it was a magical place and who knew how space had been “bent” here. The next thing she contemplated was how to get all those tables and chairs out into the clearing, suddenly the task seemed much too large for just one elf, even with the help of a multitude of hobbits.

“I’m so silly,” Arwen said, shaking her head at herself.
*~*~*~*~*~*~ RING ACTION ~*~*~*~*~*~*
A soft ring of light enveloped the tall, lithe figure that suddenly stood in he midst of a circle of undulating gilded threads. Soft whispers and the sound of children’s laughter, a mother’s song, a lover’s caress, filled the air and cocooned Arwen in their warmth. Walking into the room, the peredhel’s hands touched on all the items she wanted and watched as they began to fade, their solid lines turning into glittering filaments that fluttered about the room. Reaching out, Arwen plucked those strings and cradling them in her palms walked back out to the lush clearing. Once there, she held up her hands, letting a soft breeze waft the ephemeral strands under and through the flaxen tents, where they materialized once more into the very arrangement she had imagined. “Perfect,” she thought “and so much easier to rearrange,” she murmured with a grin, letting the tender, mellifluous voices fade back into the soughing of the wind. As she stood there, the only light that framed her was the brightening rays of the sun.
*~*~*~*~*~ END RING ACTION ~*~*~*~*~*

A deep, hooming voice caught her attention and Arwen turned just as Elena and Silwen returned their arms laden with flowers and with the lofty figure of the Entwife shading them. “Just in time,” she called out, motioning for them to come see what she had done. “I hope you like it,” she said breathlessly to the three, suddenly realizing that the small magic had taken more out of her than she’d initially thought, but her smile didn’t waver.

“The tents and tables are all set up,” she motioned to where beneath the larger tent, each round table was topped off with a linen tablecloth, and each place setting had all the necessary dishes and cutlery, white ware with a gold edging that flashed in the soft light filtering through the canopy overhead. Each table also had an intricately fashioned candle-holders, of elven design, that would be as the sun dimmed. In the middle, in front of the long table set especially for the bridal party, a space was left empty as the designated stage and dance floor. Underneath a slightly smaller tent, a series of chairs had been set up for the actual handfasting ceremony and there was a small stage set up in the front though at the moment it was empty since Arwen had not know what Orion or Parm, their officiator, needed to set up there.

“Those flowers smell wonderful and the colors are going to complement the décor perfectly!” the peredhel said turning to her friends, “I hope you’re ready to start decorating.” Rummaging through the wide pockets of her apron, Arwen picked out a few scraps of paper, “I have a few of the original pictures I think we decided on for decorating the canopies and beams,” she said, handing first one, then the other to Silwen. “So…” she said, practically rubbing her hands together in glee, “Where do you want to start?”
Last edited by Arwen_Sol on Tue Sep 28, 2004 10:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Cerridwen » Tue Sep 28, 2004 10:46 am

Trying to shed the last of the rose-tinted shadows from her dreams, Cerri breathed deeply, and tried to burrow further into the lofty, goosedown pillows. She had a window in her room, and the morning light had crept up over the horizon, up the outer wall, across the floor and into bed with her, making the golden highlights in her amber hair glow.
It was later in the morning than she had expected it to be, after the rowdiness of the previous evening. She was still half-asleep, luxuriating in the quiet, in-between dimness that lingers before full wakefulness arrives. The delicious scents of early autumn drifted in, teasing her senses with the promise of a glorious day. A melody flitted by the open window, playful and sweet. To her surprise a rosebush climbed, leaf and vine, to frame the window. It sent forth shoots of a tender green which darkened, budded, and bloomed. The flowers were deep crimson, playfully pink, radiant white-of-pearl... and some were even colored like the dawn itself, breaking in a cloudless sky. When they had flowered, they diffused a delicious, delicate fragrance into her room.
Now, there's a handy trick, she thought sleepily, still content to remain only half-wakeful. The pillows were warm, and delicately scented. The glow of the morning light continued to tease about in her hair. For awhile, Cerri lay in her own room, in her own bed...
When full wakefulness came, she stiffened, and sat up straight, her hair tumbling about her in random, wavy masses.
She was alone. There was the first surprise.
Chime was awake, and not trying to usurp her body. There was another.
Morning, sleepy, the little winged familiar sang cheerfully.
"Morning indeed," Cerri murmured. "It's... glorious."
It's that, Chime replied honestly, her thoughts holding none of her usual sauce and bristle. She seemed in a quiet, thoughtful mood. That was yet another surprise. The day seemed full to bursting with them already, and Cerri wondered what it meant.
Means someone's magicked me so I'm nice to you today, I suppose, the little voice said again, though it was in fun, rather than in earnest.
Cerri allowed herself to fall back into her pillows and sigh with relief. Someone had put the bed so it would be nearly impossible to get out of. She had idle thoughts of not stirring from here again for another several days.
It won't be morning all day, human. And you won't want to miss what's coming.
"And what's that?" Cerri replied, allowing a lazy smirk to twist in the corners of her mouth. She hadn't felt so at ease in... weeks. Months. Since she'd left that no-account wizard and got herself saddled with Chime.
Orion and Elena's wedding. It's been all the talk of these Bard-folks since I-know-not-when. It'd be a pity to miss it, the little familiar said.
"I hadn't heard," Cerri replied truthfully.
For the first time, it appeared that the little familiar felt chagrin about something. Would there be no end to the wonders of this day?
Sorry about that. I... get carried away and forget to tell you things. Really, I don't mean to be... awful.
"Except sometimes."
Well, yes... but not often.
"Hm..." came the half-dreaming, sleepy reply.
It appeared that they would have peace between them this day.
"So bring me up to speed, if you don't mind," Cerri asked. She was in a better mood than she imagined, having awakened by herself, as herself, and with no prospect of that changing in the day. It hadn't been this nice since before she'd met Chime.
Well, there was the bachelor party last night. I... I'm afraid I'm smitten.
Cerri's mouth twisted into another smirk, though she felt a little more charitable toward her perpetual housemate than she had in a long time. Love was love, and it could strike at the most inopportune times. She well knew.
"Do tell," she prompted.
Chime appeared to be gathering her thoughts. He's beautiful, she said dreamily. Just beautiful. I've never seen his like in all the lands, in all the time I've been around since I hatched. His voice...
Had the familiar been physically present, Cerri had no doubt she'd have swooned across the goosedown pillows, and that they'd both have giggled until they had made themselves silly.
"Isn't he Master Hue's harp?"
Not... precisely. They're of a kind, those two. Agarak is his own creature, though. I think sometimes he tolerates that human. Much as I tolerate anyone. I'm not sure, though. His eyes...
Another near-swoon. Cerri chuckled.
I have never been affected by anyone in all my long life, she admitted honestly. Not once.
"Did he say aught to you?"
Silence. Long silence.
Cerri opened her eyes, and stared at the rafters in the ceiling. She waited.
He asked me what manner of creature I could possibly be, since I obviously wasn't human. I'm afraid I gave us away to him. After that, he laughed, and said he didn't think I wanted to greet the Master Bard, and that I was entirely too bold. But he was amused, and he asked my name.
Cerri's expression became pained for a moment, but it passed. "I'm sure."
Then I fainted.
Cerri winced. "You fainted?"
Not into Master Hue's lap, but nearly. They took us upstairs then. We've been here since.
Cerri covered her eyes with a hand and sighed.
I am so very sorry, Chime apologized, as sincerely as Cerri had ever heard.
"No, it's alright," she replied. "I will admit to swooning once, and we all know where it got me." She smiled wryly, and chuckled. "I can always blame it on something. The wine, the heat... that Master Bard's stunning good looks. Something." She chuckled again. "Well you, let's get washed and presentable, and see if there's anything to be had for wearing to a Bard's wedding."
Chime agreed.
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Postby Silwen » Wed Sep 29, 2004 3:10 am

The Entwife's song would not leave her mind, and so Silwen continued to sing as she placed the different flowers here and there on tables to get them in some kind of order before arranging them. "We should begin with the suspended bouquets," she said to no one in particular. When alone and busy she had the habit of speaking to herself. the she resumed her song.

The flowers and leaves gathered as if by a spell and when the Entwife returned with Arwen in tow, one corner of thetent was already decorated exactly as on the pictures they had been given as references. "Isn't it lovely," asked Silwen who was separating the flowers for the men's lapels. "The lights make them shine much more beautiful than I ever imagined!" Especially her favourite Calla gathered the light and shimmered pleasantly.
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Postby Guruthostirn » Wed Sep 29, 2004 9:33 pm

Sighing, Anorast dropped his bulging pack onto a bench in the garden. He'd hurried to get here, having forgotten about Orion's wedding. Only the arrival of a very dedicated messenger, bearing a package, reminded the old elf of his promise to Orion. Anorast had taken to wandering aimlessly, wrapped in his dark thoughts. He hadn't been able to make up his mind; would he be content, undisturbed, or would it be a good thing, being pulled back into the world, out of his shadows.

As anyone could tell by seeing Anorast, the elf had left the wilds, donning the strange clothes which Orion had requested he wear. Anorast decided he'd made the right choice; he'd forgotten how to smile at the sun, listen to the lilting songs of the birds, the beauty of a bubbling stream. And this morning was unlike many he'd known lately, truly wonderful, beautiful, full of light and the caressing touch of a breeze.

Not knowing exactly where he was needed, Anorast settled down upon the bench beside his pack. Calling out loudly, the elf summoned one of the denizens of the nearby building.


"Flush!"

Right next to Anorast a short glass of dark, shiny liquid appeared. Anorast chuckled for the first time in many days.

"No, I do not need that, spirit." A smile touched Anorast's face as he sensed disappointment, and confusion. "No strong drink has touched my lips for many months."

A complete lack of understanding greeted Anorast. Sighing, the elf continued. "However, water would be appreciated. Please, let Orion know that I have arrived, and tell him where I sit so that I may be summoned when I am required."
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Postby Hidden_Ring » Thu Sep 30, 2004 9:03 am

Fastening the belt around the kilt, sash and the jabot shirt, Orion stepped out of the room and went to the end of the hallway for what had become the men's wing of rooms. Moving to the window at the end of the hall, he could spy a blossoming carpet winding around the building and leading off into a grove of trees. Perfect... just the place I was thinking of. And now to prepare the site itself. Just a few additions and alterations should be needed.

Turning back, the white-blond Elf returns to his room, collecting a small bundle that had been only recently retrieved from his sanctuary in the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil. Windy casts a brief glance at him. "And where do you think you are off to? Not going to try sneaking a peek at the bride before she is ready, are you?"

Nay, I won't do that, although I've been getting hints from Curulinde about it. My 'luck' I suppose, for both of us having Melody Rings. I'm going to make sure the glade is prepared how we need it. Taking the bundle, he then leaves the upstairs room and walks outside, amused to note the carpet of blossoming petals spreads right up the other stairs and, presumably, to his bride's room. Following the trail around the building and towards the glade, Orion was met by Flush who delivered a message to him. Nodding his thanks, the Elf walks across through the gradens to find Anorast sitting with glass of water at hand. Anorast, it's good to see you again. It has been far too long. I was just on my way to prepare the wedding glade. I would be delighted if you came with me.

Together, the two elves walked along the flowered trail and into the glade where the ceremony would take place. Looking around at the flowering plants, Orion nodded in silent approval that nearly everything was ready. Removing a quartet of small oddments, the white-blond Elf started walking a large ring, shaking a small container that spread a fine whitish dust. Completing the circuit, he then starts repeating his trail carrying and dusting the path with a 2 foot long eagle feather. Sensing his companions iminante question, Orion answers him. The first was salt, gathered from the Great Sea. This feather was found shed by Gwaihir. Next will be ashes saved from the forges of the Ring's Guild, and last is water collected from Rauros Falls. Earth, Air, Fire and Water. All four shall help to mark out where Elena and I will join our lives.

As he spoke, the Elf completed the last two trips around the circle he cast and then, on small marker stones, he laid tokens to be held at the 4 compass points. First, to the North, was a medalion of wood, stained with clays and dirts. It depicted a pentacle star, wrought as an endless knot. Moving once more clockwise around the ring, an black handled athame was laid at the East point, its polished blade gleaming in the light that fell through the trees. A wand was laid to the South, it's rose quartz tip shining and the ribbons spread in a fantail from the other end. In the West rested a chalice, a fine glass bowl etched with Earendil's star and images of three linked rings supported by a silver base.

Stepping in towards the center, Orion looked at his two Rings on right hand and let them work their will.

********Esteman-Curulinde RING ACTION*********
Shadows flickered and sparked from the snowy obsidian stone on the Dark Ring while a gentle tune flows from the moonstone-crowned Melody Ring. The two energies wrap and bind around each other, building in complexity until the song reaches it's zenith and a square altar is formed. A white cloth embroidered with swan ships, flowers and stars along the edges rests ontop of the smooth flat top of the altar. The song is sweet and gentle, sounding as though it was born from the finest of Dwarven violins, and when it is heard and felt, will not fail to bring a tear to the eye of the listener.
********END RING ACTION*****************


Let's go see how our old Guildmaster has fared with putting his kilt on.
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Postby Lady_Galadriel786 » Thu Sep 30, 2004 4:31 pm

Throughout breakfast Elena’s thoughts were elsewhere; she accepted her friends’ warm wishes and gentle teases with a smile. But she hardly listened to anything they were saying, her mind travelling forward to later that day, to the ceremony. She felt unaccountably nervous, though she supposed it was to be expected. Yet, she had the strangest feeling... No! She will not think that way. Not today. Nothing would go wrong; everything would happen the way it is supposed to. This was the most joyous day of her long life, and she would not allow anything to mar its rightness. Neither will we, Bearer Silmariën’s soft, soothing voice whispered in her ear, and Elena smiled in thanks.

Just then, she heard a low ‘hoooommm’ and Vana’s startled gasp as Enty appeared by the window. She turned and waved a greeting to the Entwife, who said, “Bright days are here and so are the flowers! Dearest sister Elena, let us now take you on your Walk. Your last Walk among the Earth, before your heart will be bound forever, and no longer a Maiden you will be….!” Enty smiled and motioned to Silwen, who leaped at the anticipation of all the flowers ready for her crafty hands.

Elena and Silwen enjoyed choosing the flowers in the Lavish Glade, and singing and dancing along with Enty to the Free Spirit Trance. Finally, they made their way back to the others in the Wedding Party, a pair of Elves following them, carrying stacks and baskets of flowers. ”Elena the Bride, I shall see you at the Ceremony! You’ve danced in the fields, and warmed in the Days Sun. Go with full heart and strong strides into the Arms of your Love!” said Enty, as she pointed her Earth Ring down to the ground and aimed it back towards the path they took. In beams of green misty light, a long carpet of rose petals and pansies of every colour formed a plush path. They covered the path back to the Brides Room, and Elena and Silwen smiled as they took its fragrant way back to the preparation for the Wedding.

“Just in time,” Arwen called out as Elena and Silwen entered the Hall, motioning for them to come see what she had done. “I hope you like it,” she said breathlessly to the three, as Enty joined them. “The tents and tables are all set up,” she motioned to where beneath the larger tent, each round table was topped off with a linen tablecloth, and each place setting had all the necessary dishes and cutlery, white ware with a gold edging that flashed in the soft light filtering through the canopy overhead. Each table also had intricately fashioned candle-holders, of Elven design, that would be as the sun dimmed. “Indeed I do,” murmured Elena as she took in the sight. “Thank you Arwen.”

In the middle, in front of the long table set especially for the bridal party, a space was left empty as the designated stage and dance floor. Underneath a slightly smaller tent, a series of chairs had been set up for the actual handfasting ceremony and there was a small stage set up in the front though at the moment it was empty since Arwen had not know what Orion or Parm, their officiator, needed to set up there. “Those flowers smell wonderful and the colours are going to complement the décor perfectly!” the peredhel said turning to her friends, “I hope you’re ready to start decorating.” Rummaging through the wide pockets of her apron, Arwen picked out a few scraps of paper, “I have a few of the original pictures I think we decided on for decorating the canopies and beams,” she said, handing first one, then the other to Silwen. “So…” she said, practically rubbing her hands together in glee, “Where do you want to start?”

Elena laughed and shook her head as Enty, Arwen and Silwen leaped into action, leaving her momentarily alone in a corner. “Seems your song refreshed their bodies and mind very well, Ninniach,” she smiled as she watched them. I have only done what you have asked, Bearer. “I know, and I thank you for it,” replied Elena as she left them to it, and returned inside the Hall. She would have offered to help, had she not already known that any such offer would be met with shocked faces and be firmly refused.

I do not understand that at all. Silmariën sounded genuinely puzzled. “It is because I’m the bride,” sighed Elena. And this means she is not allowed to do anything today but be pampered. Ninniach was laughing at her. “I am not an invalid,” she grinned, as Silmariën’s tinkling laughter joined that of her Melody Ring, “but they would treat me as one today, simply because they would not have me tire myself out doing... work.” These are strange customs, Bearer. “I know.” She paused a moment, and then, remembering something her Melody Ring had said earlier, said, “You know, Silmariën, earlier Ninniach hinted that you were busy with something this morning. Will you tell me what?” You shall see this evening, at the ceremony.

That made Elena more curious than ever as to what her Moon Ring was up to, but she knew she would not get any answers now, so she let it go. She peeked in on the others still lingering over breakfast, talking animatedly, and then made her way quietly to her room. Once there, she sat down on the bed, absently twirling a stray lock of hair with her finger. “Well, what do I do now?” she asked herself softly, looking around the room. As if in answer to her question, a small brown owl flew in through the open window, and landed lightly on the bed beside Elena.

“Hello, little one,” said Elena in pleased surprise. “And where did you come from?” It whooted twice in reply, hopped up onto Elena’s arm, and held out its right leg, to which a small metal capsule was attached. “Oh, is it for me?” she asked, as she gently releasing the capsule from its leg. The owl whooted again, in confirmation, fluffing its feathers importantly. Obviously it was highly pleased with itself for being successful on its errand. It walked up Elena’s arm to her shoulder as she opened the capsule and shook out the note it contained.

She read the note once, twice, and then a third time. Still she couldn’t believe what was written. Is he really coming? Silmariën sounded excited and very pleased. That’s what it says. He will be here sometime in the afternoon. With the rest of the family.. Compared to Silmariën, Ninniach sounded calm and composed. It worked! He listened to us! And he’s truly coming here! Of course, didn’t I tell it would work? “All right, what is going on, you two?” demanded Elena, as she was finally able to get in a word. “How did you manage to get Eärtaron to agree to come here?”

Her brother. Her twin. Her closest friend and dearest companion of her childhood. They hadn’t spoken to each other in over two hundred years, and yet, somehow her two Rings had convinced him to attend her wedding. And he would not come alone. With him, his wife and their children, and Elves of Mirkwood. Of all the emotions coursing through her at that moment, the strongest was happiness. Silmariën and Ninniach hastened to explain what they had done, but suddenly it didn’t matter to Elena how they had done what they had done. All that mattered was that her beloved twin would be there to share in the happiest day of her life.
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Postby Wisteria » Thu Sep 30, 2004 6:00 pm

Climbing down from her perch up in the wagon's seat, Wiste stretched while taking in all the bustle around her. Tents were rising, tables stretched between planks, musicians tuned. Ah, the general cacaphony of wedding preparations!

And in the back of her wagon was a most important part of those preparations. Stealing a glance up at the windows, Wiste grinned, wondering if Elena's nerves had started in yet. The young woman had struck her as being the fairly calm sort, but most brides had visits from the little stomach butterflies as the hour approached.

A groom came out to take care of her horse and Wiste handed over the care of her little mare to capable hands. Sliding out the tailboard, she reached in to pull a long, wide box toward her, ribbons of blue crisscrossed in the center to prevent accidental opening. Murmers came from some of the folk nearby as Wiste gently carried the box toward the inn.

"Is that the...?"
"Oh, it's here!"
"Can I peek?"

Questions flew at the weaver as she crossed the few steps. With a smile, she answer each one.

"No, you can't peek; yes, it is here; and yes, the wedding dress has arrived."
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Postby -|---Anduril » Fri Oct 01, 2004 11:49 am

Andy was helping with the setting up of the tents for the wedding, doing a some odd jobs here and there. It had just started to hit home how much she had missed over her absence from here. She had been so set out on discovering new places and new experiences, only now that she had come back home to her very old friends that she started to realise what she had left behind, and made a decision to really make up for her time lost.

She hammered a peg into the soft ground to set up the tent and looked around. Everyone seemed to be really joyful today, and the collaboration and teamwork was exemplary. Andy smiled. Everything seemed to be going perfectly for the wedding.
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Postby Ilyda » Fri Oct 01, 2004 12:30 pm

The bachelor party had lasted long into the night. Not having any other rooms available, the Splintered Chamberpot could only offer her space in the bar to sleep through the night. Afraid of being stepped on if she should wake late, however unlikely, Ilyda staked out her place on top of the bar. The ground usually served as her bed, and it was not soft. However, her decision to spend the night on top of the bar proved to be a poor one, and her back was cried out for something better, even if it was only the ground.

Ilyda woke with the dawn. As she opened her eyes, she found that she faced both the window and the sun, and she blinked reflexively. She wished for many things. She should not have had that moonshine; that was certain. She also should have slept on the floor. Her discomfort had kept her awake most of the night. And in the midst of the party the night before, she had lost track of her bag entirely.

She laid on the bar for a while longer. After a few moments, more light began to stream into her closed eyes. Ilyda decided to remove herself from her awkward and uncomfortable spot. Besides, the staff would soon be returning, and the other guests, those not so accustomed to rising with the sun, would wake not long afterward.

Sitting up, Ilyda realized that it was the night on the bar that had affected her more than anything else. Her head gave a slight throb with her new upright position, but nothing else showed any strain from the night’s alcohol. However, her back creaked and moaned as she sat up. With her legs dangling over the edge of the wood, Ilyda finally opened her eyes again. The sun was mostly up now, and it shining brightly in the window.

The Ranger slid off her makeshift bed and put her feet solidly onto the floor. Her head still disagreed with her slightly, but the rest of the inn was completely silent, save for the sounds of nature. Suddenly, the ceiling seemed to press down on her. She could feel nature calling her. The trees were not far off, so Ilyda easily assured herself that she would not miss the big event.

With her mind vaguely at ease, the old Ranger shuffled toward the door. The rising sun shone in through the windows, making long, dark lines along the floor. The sun reflected as though the floor was made of water, and its color reminded her of bronze. The scent of smoke still hung in the cramped air from the night before, and Ilyda gave a little cough as she opened the door.

A breeze hit her in the face. It was cool and calming, but it was also carrying more than refreshment. There would be rain today. Orion’s special day would be ruined. A slight hint of sympathy ran through her. But Ilyda was still too far involved in her own discomfort to consider the future. That afternoon was too far off to seem important.

Taking a step outside, Ilyda immediately felt better. Her time in Minas Tirith, so confined, was never particularly pleasant. Staying in this little building, though less restricting, made her feel the same. The Ranger took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. She looked toward the sun once again and gave a little greeting. Outside those walls, it seemed like a person once again, the friend she had always considered it to be.

After a moment or two, Ilyda walked into the nearby woods. The light shone through the trees to dimly illuminate small spots on the ground. Everything was covered in dew and reflected the light with a beauty and innocence that few recognize. Considering everything Ilyda had endured since she left home, she was more than willing to see every joy that life had to offer. This scene was truly wonderful, and she spent hours among the awakening life.

Eventually, her stomach gave her a cue that she needed to return to the Pot. As the headed out of the woods at last, she noticed that the wind, which had gradually strengthened throughout the morning, had suddenly changed direction. The clouds that were threatening to block the sun were swiftly blown away. The new breeze smelled slightly, not of rain, but of magic.

Ilyda pushed the thought from her mind. She had had enough contact with magic that she desired no more. As if in response, her own magic, which had recently been so silent, gave a little tug inside her to make its presence known once again. Sadly, she recognized that she could never be rid of her exposure to the supernatural.

Arriving once again at the door to the inn, Ilyda opened it. Like before, she was deluged by the strong scent of smoke, though was weaker now than it had been. However, the bar was no longer empty. Several sprites were floating above the bar, and a tall elf, one she had not seen before, held a glass of water in his hand. Ilyda walked up to the sprites and asked for a strong cup of coffee. The sprites were faster than they appeared, and she soon had her coffee.

Cup in hand, the Ranger turned around. The bar was empty again, save for herself. Ilyda put some sugar and a pinch of salt into the coffee and swirled it around. Tastes good. While she drank, Orion came down the stairs and headed out the door with a purpose. Within a few moments, the coffee was finished. With the wedding fast approaching, Ilyda knew she should make herself presentable, even if she had no other clothes.

She headed up the stairs, looking for a place where she could wash her face. Her bag was still missing, but she could find that later. These were bards, after all. They were supposed to have a kinship. I hope that is true. Reaching the top of the steps, she turned a corner to find Master Erinhue leaving his room wearing a kilt and holding a well-polished harp.
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Postby Frelga » Fri Oct 01, 2004 2:35 pm

The morning sun peeked over the treetops. Its warm rays reached down into a little grassy clearing and fell on a slight form of a girl, wrapped in a blanket and a cloak, who slept under a birch tree.

Geli roused slowly, letting the bird song carry her from dream into waking. The sky was pink and silver, like the jester's costume she wore last night. She lay still for a while, soaking in the morning. There was something to be said for being on her own, with no call to wait or hurry for anybody.

The young jester expected another good day. After yesterday’s party, she’d been asked to perform at the wedding reception, which meant her dinner was assured. And after that, she might even have company on the road, if the Fool she met last night did not change his mind.

A singing brook provided water for drinking and washing. Geli breakfasted on cheese and fruits that she had lifted off the party platters last night. She stowed her curls under a floppy hat, and shouldered her pack and guitar, heading for the road. Out of her bright costume and make up, and dressed in loose-fitting faded clothes - breeches, shirt, tunic – Geli looked like a slender boy. She walked like a boy, too, with wide, sure step; head high, arms swinging freely. Red and green ribbons, tied to her guitar and twisted around the hat, waved merrily in the wind.

Running through her mind were dances, songs, tricks and jokes that she would perform at the reception. It would have to be something special. Any woman who was fool enough to tie herself to a man should at least have memories of the wedding to comfort her in her misery.
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Postby Ulugz » Fri Oct 01, 2004 3:57 pm

The previous night’s promise of a pleasantly damp and cloudy day was broken. The cool pre-dawn mist was quickly burned off by the bright sunshine, and the crowded hollow beneath a twisted willow root, quickly became unbearably hot and stifling. The three well fed wargs snored, and twitched in their dreams. After the third or fourth kick to connect with the already uncomfortable little orc’s kidneys, Ûlugz gave up any pretence of sleep.
Conversing with elves would be less difficult than sleeping with wargs.
Luckily game had been plentiful, and the hunt had not taken them far from the Splintered Chamberpot. Perhaps a cool ale or two, and a quiet room for the day, could be purchased. Gathering her meager gear, the grubby warg rider headed off on foot for the odd, magical, bardic haunt.
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Postby The_Fool » Fri Oct 01, 2004 6:11 pm

Façade groaned at the strength of the morning light. He had been dozing fitfully for the last hour or so, hoping it would diminish so he could escape into slumber once more. His head ached from the amount he had drunk at the bachelor party the night before. Sitting up in the tangle of blankets he scrubbed his face with both hands, dislodging a little more of the fatigue that hung over him. Birdsong was carried, clear as a bell chime, on the morning breeze, and rising from the bed the Fool was pleased to see that the day looked to be one of unsurpassable quality.

Pulling a loose shirt on he knelt beside his packs, rummaging through until he found a razor. The rooms he now occupied in the Pot had been equiped with a bowl of water and some soap whilst he had slept, and although no longer hot, it was servicable. He set to shaving the light shadow of stubble on his jaw, tidying up the line of his moustache and goatee.

Barely managing to stifle a yawn he slipped the razor back into his pack, and finding a belt he fastened it about his waist then padded barefoot down to the Pot's kitchens. After managing to convince to cook to part with a thick slice of bread and an apple, he wandered over to the doorway. He consumed his breakfast slowly, watching the bustlings of the wedding preperations in the pleasant heat of the early sun. The humming of activity from behind his back reminded him of his childhood, and closing his eyes he pretended that he was back in the press of the Raphis-Vess kitchen, the cook simultaneously cooing and snapping at him. Older now he sympathised with her, he had been a terrible child; although, it amused him to think of the time he had dropped a couple of slugs in the House's main meal. At three he had thought he was helping, but the cook had never let him hear the end of it.

Taking the last bite of his apple Façade tossed the core to a scavenging dog, who snapped it up, then, seeming rather disappointed, ate it anyway with deliberate grinding jaws.

Weaving his way back through the kitchen he made another courteous thank you to the cook before heading back upstairs to dress in the better clothing Elena had sent him for the wedding. His astonishment at her request he join the celebrations, and his insistance that he would have no attire suitable for a wedding, had been met with a laugh and a mysterious promise that it would not be a problem. Months later her messenger had managed to find him, bearing the garments underarm. Carefully he lifted the elaborately embroidered and carefully tailored shirt from its resting place, unfolding it on the bed.

It was white, the embroidery pale gold thread, and undeniably Elven, with a matching tunic. The pants were a soft charcoal, plain but expensive looking. The Fool balked at the finery, reminded for a moment of his preening peacock of a father. He wondered for a moment if he could wear something as delicate and rich as this, but he pushed such thoughts aside. Elena had asked, and he did not wish to disappoint a friend. Esepcially on her wedding day.

Taking off his plainer clothes he redressed carefully, ensuring he wore the slightly foreign garments properly, then fetching his newly polished boots he sat on the edge of the bed to tug them on. Raking a long-fingered hand through his blond hair he shuffled it into a respectable shape. He would not tie it up today.
Last edited by The_Fool on Sat Oct 02, 2004 12:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby wind_walker » Fri Oct 01, 2004 9:41 pm

Thinking better of following the elf, Wind Walker stepped over to the mirror. "You couldn't sneak behind him, even if you tried, he's an elf..." He looked at his beard. It had its usual three braids, if not a bit worn from the night before and was gathered at its end. he undid the brass clips which held it fairly well, and with a special brush, began to smooth the whole thing out.
He then, washed the entire thing, and with his Ring's help, dried it, too. Then he set the task of smoothing it to a formal neatness. Redong the three braids, he cliped each with a mithril clip, not vary large, but reserved for such formal occasions. He also had a mithril "catchknot". A device that looked like it was interweaving strands of mithril, but degigned to hold his beard in one place with minimal discomfert. He also hept this time only for such formal events.
Satisfied that his clothers were neat enough, boots polished, beard and body in presentable condition, he still felt he was forgetting something... "An axe!" he exclaimed. Searching his pack quickly, he found the one of his throwing axes he never really used. It was polished and decorated more than the rest, as it was to be worn to events such as this. He slid it into the back of his belt, its was kind of comfely there, with the blade flat against the small of his back.
He snatched up the design he was to work on, a utensil to write with, and a spare sheet of parchment. Decending the stairs, he began to think about the desin he had been given. Settling at an empty table, he said simply, "Flush, if you please?" A drink appeared next to him, "hmm, thank you. But I do have a question if I may," he laid the blank parchment and laid the carbon stick beside it. "How tall are you?" There was a moments silence and he added, "draw it if you could." A set of dark green lines lit up on the paper illustrating its heaight and how tall a few of the pieces ought to be in its mind. It then tingled a response to the dwarf of impatience the it had work to do and went zipping away.
He looked at the design again and decided to start on the next sunrise, were he able. It would be a few days then a deliery would be in order.
"Hmm," he thought aloud, sipping at his drink, "I ought to perform at this Festival, for Orion and Elena..." He let the thought trail off and took another long drink. Sitting in the main chamber of the Pot, he waited for someone or something to require is attention...

-WW
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Postby SilverScribe » Sat Oct 02, 2004 12:13 am

"Are you SURE this was for me?" Scribbles asked for the third time.

"Yes, yes," the little hobbit tailor answered. "The elf that delivered the message for Master Orion was most insistent."

"And you are SURE this is what I'm to wear?" she asked, also for the third time.

"Yes, yes! Great heaping bags of beeswax, are you going to let me fit these or not?!" the tailor snapped, his patience clearly wearing down.

Scribbles continued to stare at the note she held in her hands. The script was certainly elvish and Orion had clearly signed it . . .

Scribbles:
Would you join me, WindWalker, Guruth and Hue as one of the groomsmen for my wedding to the Lady Elena?
I have taken the liberty of contacting that tailor you seem to favour, and we have sent him the necessary items of attire. The kilt is . . . er . . . optional, black trousers will do in a pinch.
I do hope you will agree.
Oh, the Splintered Chamberpot, 22 September, and hurry.

Fond regards,
Orion HR.


She eyed the yards of "kilt" with a jaundiced eye. Seeing her look, the tailor blanched. "Erm, yes, well, I'm not entirely certain what that is but it came with the rest. It has instructions . . ."

"Instructions? Really. How . . . unusual. Never mind, let me see the rest," Scribbles drawled. The tailor hurried to hold up a tailored jacket, a white shirt, a frilly length of something and a sash of tartan material.

Scribbles laughed. "Well, I suppose battle leathers are out then, eh wot?" she said with a wink. The hobbit looked properly horrified. "Oh relax, it was a JOKE," she added, then sighed and picked up the "kilt". Holding it at arms length she scowled and wrinkled her nose, then laid it back on the chair.

"No, I don't think so, instructions or not. And the note says this thing is optional."

"Then what will you wear with these?" the Hobbit asked, indicating the other items. Scribbles chuckled.

"What else? Tailored black trousers, and make sure they fit," she answered.

The little Hobbit drew himself up with a huffy show of pride. "My clothes ALWAYS fit exquisitely," he snapped. "At least until you decide to ruin them by riding half way across the country on horseback. Why can't you travel in a wagon or carriage like a la . . ."

"Caaaareful," Scribbles drawled, her left hand caressing the hilt of her broadsword.

The Hobbit caught himself. "Ah, well you know what I mean," he continued. "Now, get out of that dusty cloak and such and let's see about checking the fit of the shirt and jacket, hmmmmm?"

Scribbles snatched the items from his hand and retreated behind the screens in the corner. "You know, one of these days . .."

"Yes, yes, you're going to make my arse even closer to the ground . . ." he muttered under his breath.

"There's LACE on this shirt!!! Okay, and what do I do with THIS thing?" The Scribe's voice was laced with frustration and soon followed by the frilly length of something, which came sailing over the screens to land at the hobbit's fuzzy feet.

"May the gods give me patience," he whispered and retrieved the ruffled cravat. "You put it at the neck of the shirt," he offered. "Just come out and I'll arrange it for you."

"And maybe choke some sense into you as well," he grumbled. Raising his voice once more he shouted, "Hurry up, you absolutely have to be on the road this afternoon if you hope to make the wedding tomorrow morning! And take that derned oversize pickle slicer off! It spoils the line of everything and I simply cannot work around it!"


((OOC: Okay, I took a few liberties with the note, hope y'all don't mind. ;) So, a quick fitting done, a fast horse is waiting and the Scribe is on the way. Oh, and to all the bridesmaids, my deepest apologies in advance. :oops: )
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Postby prmiller » Sat Oct 02, 2004 12:42 am

"Aravel!" Parm shouted, shocking himself with the unexpected tone in
his voice. "Where are my boots? And the staff?"
"Father, look behind the door of your room," giggle Tinula, who seemed
to be hiding a naughty secret.

There, immaculately polished and even repaired in places, were Parm's
traveling boots. His trusted staff rose out of the right boot. It, too, had
been freshly rubbed with the oil the crafters of Imladris used for all
sorts of woodwork.

"I...I have them...all." Parm responded, his voice becoming sheepishly
hoarse.

"My dear, you are off to a wedding. You do want to look your best. Now,
look here." Aravel gestured to their expansive wardrobe. Inside, almost
gleaming, was a new robe. It was silvery grey, with embroidery around
the hem...words! Parm strained to read them: No magic here, but only
love is woven in this garment made.
Parm well knew that the graces
of Valar, of which Aravel had a part, meant that this robe would do more
than shelter him from cold, rain and the hardness of the road, it would
shelter him from unfriendly eyes, and this time be a warder against the
work that had nearly stripped him of sanity, that of shadow_walker
the bold, who had not finished with Parm in their last encounter, but had
simply stepped away.

Aravel sense how Parm ached, again, from another headache that had begun plaguing him from the last outing he had made. Neither herb nor healing lore could end them, only dull or hide the pain for a time. Aravel knew all too well what this meant: the slow weight of years now gathered upon Parm's weary body.

He was not an immortal -- though his incredible longevity had been a gift of the Valar. Aravel knew she would lose her beloved, but even the orphan children they had taken in, Arahn, Valaniel and little Tinula could only be protected from the ravages of aging for a time.

This, journey, Aravel vowed, would not be Parm's last. She thus brought
to bear every craft, skill and art upon Parm's wardrobe. The boots would
guard him from falling or missteps, the staff would give off light to guide
him in the unseemly dark places, and his robe, with attached cowl, would
keep him from adverse effects of the cold and wet of autumn.

Parm bid them all farewell as the first glimmers of dawn shot up over
the mountains that surrounded Imladris, Parm's beloved new home. He
knew his new horse, Alastra, had been a gift for his birthday, toward the
end of summer. It was also a silver grey mount, and his strength for the
journey was what Aravel had most sought for Parm. His was a steed to
match Parm's stubborn will and gentle poetic heart. Alastra was also a
horse that had come from Parm's old friends in the kingdom of Rohan,
who owed much to Parm for his work on transcribing their many songs
of riding and battle onto parchments and into books for generations to
read and enjoy. Parm had even dared, and without much resistance,
to change the cadance of the words to better match the songs. His fame
as a poet of the Bard's guild, and his recently received title, Bard of
Imladris, had been well-proferred.

Aravel and the children waved. Alastra snorted and neighed cheerfully
and also proudly. He even reared a bit, churning the air with his hooves
to show his own strength. Aravel could not help be a bemused smile at
this show of masculine bravado. Then, with a speed that astonished
Arahn, who darkly sighed at his not being able to be with father, the
pair of Parm and Alastra galloped out of sight. Parm was on his way,
at last.
Last edited by prmiller on Mon Oct 04, 2004 10:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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