Song Singing and Eagle Dunking
---------------------------------------------------------------- +ELF TIME ----
================== Eldarin Calendar
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:23 AM >
IC day is: Orbelain
IC date is: 9 Iavas
Moon phase: Last Quarter
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 24 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor
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RL time: Tue Dec 08 23:07:53 2009
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Calendar help: +ELF TIME HELP Quenya version: +ELF TIME QUENYA
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Eagle Shelter
Ascending the long wood ramp, into the mellyrn, you find yourself within a talan of unusual proportions. This circular talan, larger than the usual, has no sides, only that of bough of vine keeping the talan well hidden from view. Directly in the center is yet another unusual sight, a large nest fashioned by the Galadhrim. Limbs, bent and boughed, held together with twisting vines, make the nest comfortable for the healing eagles.
Aside from this, little is to be seen. Save a wooden table, upon which are placed the herbs the healers use in their work. A small mattress is lain upon the bare floor, next to which a large silver basin containing fresh water can be found. Oddly extended over an enormous bough, there appears to be a hoist of some fashion.
Contents:
Gilhonien
Book of Herbs
Obvious exits:
Down leads to Long Lawn.
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
Though stillness seemingly reigns eternal in the midnight hour here in the golden wood, a plethora of little noises fill the air. The quiet chirruping of crickets mingles with the twitter of nightingales the peeping of tree frogs dances with the rustle of leaves, and all around, a breeze whispers softly.
High above the forest floor all carpeted with leaves, a distant, and far larger cousin of the nightingale appears to snooze peacefully in the eagle shelter. Steadily, Gilhonien's feathered sides rise and fall with slow cadence and by all appearances, she does seem to be asleep. But it's hard to tell with these avians sometimes.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
There is a light footstep upon wood, and then a shadow-grey figure seems to melt from out of the dark beyond the entrance to the great sized talan: it is one of the Galadhrim, and a jug of clear water is held between her hands. While the great shape of the Eagles sleeps, the Elves of the Wood have no need for rest of a similar fashion, and thus it is that the late hour finds the Sentinel poking her raven head through the opening of the talan.
Deft feet being careful not to cause a sound, Veredhiel steps forward into the shelter, and begins to lower the container of water to the side of the nest.
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
Where Gilhonien's eyes seem to have been shut tight only moments before, there appears a cool green sliver of light - a hint of her glittering eyes caught by the moonlight above and reflected keenly. She does not stir at first when the elleth enters the talon save only to shift her gaze to follow the elven form as she moves. Then, in a sudden, but graceful movement, the large eagle raises her head and looks upon Veredhiel... almost eye to eye, or as close as she can come to it. Tilting her feathered head slightly to one side, she seems to be waiting for the other to speak. Sadly, still being a young eagle she is more versed in the tongue of her people and that of those who speak in westron - and she has learned lately that it's best to let these elves speak first. That way, she has some idea whether she can speak to them or not.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
The jug now in its place, the elleth rises again to take her leave but ere she turns, a quick glance is cast around the odd circular room, and then she is able to catch sight of the avian's lifting head. In that instant the grey eyes of Veredhiel meet the bright eyes of the Eagle, and just as quickly, the Sentinel's pale countenance shines with a smile. There is a pause as the Elf struggles for a moment with the extremely limited collection of Westron she has picked up from patroling outside Lorien's borders.
"You..is well?" Veredhiel wrinkles her brow in concentration, trying to remember, and feeling the odd language on her tongue. "Better?" Then a look is given to the thing of water again, and she gives a meeker grin--a jug is good for elven hands, but for an Eagle with feathers instead of fingers?
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
Despite all the blessings of Manwe graced upon the great eagles - alas, they can neither smile nor frown or show any emotion at all with their facial features. Though perhaps one as perceptive as an elf might detect the glimmer in Gilhonien's eyes as the lids crinkle ever so slightly into what passes for a smile for an eagle when she speaks. Graceously, the great bird rises slightly and bows her head in ascent: "Yes, -much- better, friend. Your hospitality has done me great good in the time I have spent here."
Doing her best to try and illustrate the point, Gilhonien raises her wing to show where the clean bandage lies and flexes the muscle smoothly. Soon she will be able to fly again with ease. However, coming to rest once more, she gazes at the jug inquisitively.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
Gilhonien's demonstration of the recovering wing serves far better than words, and Veredhiel nods to show her understanding. The container of water is flashed another look, and the elleth laughs then at the silliness of the offering. Still, she appears to not know what else to do with it for the time being, and it is left for the moment.
The Elf shifts to sit beside the giant nest upon the nearby matress that has been placed there. The glad news of the healing of the injury still brightening her eyes, Veredhiel turns to face the bird more fully. Woven into the night breeze itself, a soft tune starts then, and the grey eyes close as the elleth's thin lips move to form the words. There is a soothing sweet melody to it, and in the Sindarin tongue it comes forth. There is an almost magical quality to the songs of the Fair Folk, and the song is able to pass unhindered by the barriers of language: a tale is crafted from each falling and rising word, seemingly to form fleeting images that tug at the back of listener's mind.
O Rock Bane, Rock Bane,
Conqueror of Stone
may your strength ne'er fail,
your heart never stray.
The vile rocks you heeded not,
and like twisted weeds
of garden-soil you pried
them from their home.
An elleth fair you saved
from stumbling one day,
and taking a mighty foot,
you sent that offending stone
tumbling from sight.
Though duty calls you elsewhere,
forever shall you remain,
guarding over lone forest path
with hard stern gaze
for the thankful Elf-maid sought
another's aid, and together
they fashioned you a statue
from the very rocks you bested. Now
when you are summoned away
or wandering under golden leaves,
your vigilance forever will stay.
Never again shall gentle ellith
trip upon gravel-dagger or pointy
pebble your brother of stone
protects that path.
O Rock Bane, Rock Bane,
Master of sediment
may your boot ne'er tear,
your cloak never fade.
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
Gilhonien watches the elleth with curiosity as she moves to the side of the nest, seats herself upon the mattress and begins to sing. Though Gilhonien cannot, perhaps understand a great many of the words sung throughout the tune, she listens intently with her head canted ever so slightly. Her green eyes sparkle, mirroring the delightful tone of Veredhiel's voice and showing plainly that she is enjoying every moment. When at last the song draws to a close, the large avian seems to be at a loss as to how she can show her appreciation for the entertainment.
"Well sung, my friend. Very lovely!" she says with enthusiasm, ruffling out her feathers a little as she does so. Perhaps the tone in which the brief praise is given will be enough for Veredhiel to know she enjoyed the treat emensely.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
And enough it is indeed, for the Sentinel gives a fresh mirthful laugh, her eyes open once more. Even as the song arrives at its end, the calming melody would feel to dwell amongst the room's occupants the rolling and falling of the tune still possessing its relaxing quality, and yet hinting at an underlying humor of an event passed. No doubt the Eagle has not forgotten the parculiar rock statue of which the words speak.
Veredhiel rises again to her booted feet, and draws nearer once more to the spot where Gilhonien lays. She dips her head toward the jug of water, a quizzical look now added to the happy one, as if silently asking what the avian wishes the elleth to do with that cool liquid. "Shall I leave it?" she says in her own tongue again, having given up on the Common Speech she knows so little of. "I am afraid it looks as if it won't be of much use to you though." She mimics reaching for it and then indicates the large bird's beak. Perhaps if Gilhonien came lower her head enough, Veredhiel can dip the water into the great mouth.
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
For a time, Gilhonien seems to consider the proposition, giving it some careful and measured thought before coming to a decision at length. Glancing toward the jug and then to Veredhiel, she gives a slight nod and lowers her great head at a slight angle. "If you would be so kind. Please," She says in slow, measured words, hoping that the elleth will see she means the same as she does. Otherwise, of course, Gilhonien might very well wind up with a pitcher of water dumped upon her head...which in any case would not be terrible, as she hasn't been able to dunk herself in water since her arrival to bathe and preen. However, at the moment, a drink to quench her thirst would be more appreciated.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
Luckily, the other's meaning is not missed, and the elleth paces a small step closer to pick the container up. Holding the jug carefully between her slender hands, Veredhiel tips it as her arms hover over the hooked beak. The wrist work is meticulous and slow, not wanting to splatter the poor injured Eagle with the contents. Slowly but surely, the water trickles out in a steady stream on a clear course into the awaiting mouth.
That done, the Elf withdraws a little to give Gilhonien more room again, and the jug is set aside, now empty.
[Gilhonien(#26536)]
Ah, thank the Valar - no eagle dunking tonight.
Gilhonien gratefully accepts the water given her by Veredhiel so kindly and carefully. Not a drop is missed - or insavored - and when she swallows down the last, she blinks once, making once again that near-expressionless smile of hers at the elleth: "Again, my thanks to you, kind friend." Though the voice is far from gentle in nature, her manner is gentle enough to show her gratitude. "I shall always recall, 'ere I return to the skies, the grace of your people here." Though again she cannot communicate the sentiment well, the truth of the matter is that Gilhonien shall long keep her ears and eyes inclined toward the wellfare of Lorien.
[Veredhiel(#22564)]
Though the words are still foriegn to her ears, Veredhiel has percieved the appreciation and the sense of intention that emanates from the Eagle the elleth's raven head is dipped to indicate that she has understood.
From outside the shelter, a cool clear ring drifts upon the night air: the signal for the changing of the guard for the early morning watch before dawn comes. The Sentinel tilts her head in the direction of the call, and gestures to herself and then the entrance, trying to convey that the bell also summons her to her post, as well as heralding the arriving morning. "Grow weller with-quick," she attempts to give a parting statement to Gilhonien in Westron once a second time then, the elleth flashes a grin, shrugging her lightshoulders. Now she reverts to Sindarin. "I hope you soon become well again, friend." She turns to leave then, grey cloak fluttering after her. "Farewell!" the musical voice bounces in her wake, even as her form departs and vanishes into the faint rising light of the new day's sun.
