Orerui Celebrations

================== Eldarin Calendar ===================

IC time is:    Midday < About 12:35 PM >

IC day is:     Oranor

IC date is:    Orerui

Moon phase:    Waning Gibbous

Earendil:      Gil-Estel is not visible.

IC year is:    Loa 25 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor

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RL time:    Tue Feb 23 19:32:01 2010

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Tumladen

A haven within a haven, a retreat even within the the sanctuary of Imladris. A circular open lawn stretches before you, shielded by towering evergreens on all sides, except for its east flank, where a steep cliff face rises into the sky. Rainbow mists float through the trees to the south, where the Bruinen tumbles down a cataract just out of sight, around a bend in the cliff.

The lawn is perfectly smooth and well-kept, a soft carpet for you to sit on. A shelter rises up in the middle of the silver green field, recalling the majesty of white-walled Gondolin. A place to mourn the loss of that elf-home, but also to rejoice as its image and spirit lives on here in Rivendell. Tumladen forms a sort of alcove at the end of the Valley. The only entrances or exits are the stairs. One set leads down and westward, under the retaining wall. Another set leads down along the cliff face to the northwest.

Contents:

Eryndir

Nurenhir

Moon Tear

Shelter

Obvious exits:

East leads to Under the Cliffs.

Stairs leads to Terraces -- The Seven Gates.

Today is Orerui, the first day of the new year in Eldarin reckoning. To celebrate the melting of silvery-white winter into the beginnings of spring, Tumladen -- the shelter and memorial of Gondolin of old -- has been draped in the many bright flags and the colors of Elrond\'s house, strung with lanterns even in the middle of the day. There is singing, laughter, dancing: certainly the Elves know how to celebrate, though the years like rain pass them by.

Laughing a little in his speech, Nurenhir, steward of Imladris, assists the cooks in bringing lunch to the buffet table set upon the lawn. Already, a few silver-draped tables are spread with refreshments, and a harp and lute make music within the dome of the white shelter.

One of the female elves - Mellindiel, the tailor - looks up from her place by the musicians, where she has been listening and enjoying the music. Noticing the food being brought in, she smiles even more radiantly. \"And the feast is conjured,\" she says to nobody in particular, letting her gaze wash admiringly over the dishes. \"It looks even more splendid than last year!\" She walks over to Nurenhir and smiles lightly. \"Would you like assistance, meldir?\"

A voice calls out from behind the female elf. \"How about providing me with some assistance?\" Eryndir walks out from behind a small crowd of people, balancing a lute in one hand and a small harp in the other. As he gets close he continues. \"Seeing as this is yours,\" he tells Melin, holding the lute towards her.

\"We are well, thank you!\" calls Nurenhir over the bustle of fair clothing and elven dresses. There is a platter of roast balanced in one hand, a tray of sweets in the other he scans the lawn, making his way slowly for the tables.

\"So you are our musicians?\" the steward inquires politely of ellon and elleth, carefully arranging the good fare upon the table.

A panicked look enters into Mellindiel\'s eyes for a moment, but quickly subsides. Looking from Nurenhir, to Eryndir, to the lute held in front of her, and back again, she is speechless for a moment. Then she bursts out with laughter. \"Dear Eryndir, I said I was looking forward to the music: listening to it, not playing it.\" She takes the instrument anyway, caressing it lightly with both hands. Then she turns to the steward, smiling abashedly. \"Our musicians are doing a fine job already I could hardly take the place of such skilled players.\"

She looks over to the roast that Nurenhir had just placed on the table. \"The meat looks splendid,\" she remarks breathlessly. \"How did you prepare it? It smells wonderful.\"

Eryndir looks confused, looking down at the lute. \"Really? I could have sworn you said you were to play today, and you do not look or sound out of place amonst the musicians. I\'ve heard one or two of your songs.\" He looks at her blushing, then shrugs. \"Well, \'tis your choice, I suppose. For now, I think I want to try some of this delicious looking food.\"

\"It is only because it is made of the finest ingredients!\" chuckles Nurenhir, slicing it into delicate panels with knife and fork. \"I have added onion and rosemary to bring out the quality of our herds. I hope it is to your enjoyment.\" He steps back to face ellon and elleth, moving on to arrange a basket of fruit.

Mellindiel smiles. \"It does look delicious,\" she agrees with Eryndir. \"I believe I might try some as well.\" She walks over to the shelter, leans her lute against one of its pillars, then walks back to the buffet table, clearly ignoring the expectant looks of the elves she passed with her instrument. Retrieving a plate and a fork from one side of the table, she takes a piece of meat along with some sauteed vegetables and some fruit from the bowl near Nurenhir.

Eryndir does the same as Melin, stacking his plate high with a small portion of every dish he can find. \"I\'ll admit,\" he tells the two elves as he tries some of the meat, \"I always look forward to a well prepared meal while meat fresh from a hunt has its own appeal, nothing beats the skill of a master chef.\" He nods happily towards Nurenhir in appreciation.

Nurenhir dips his head in a bow. \"Eat it with pleasure,\" he advises, \"that is the key to good fare. Even the best delicacy is bland without gladness.\"

He uncorks a delicate bottle of a fragrant liquor. \"Would you have some?\" he offers them.

The tailor bites into her food and sighs satedly. \"Beautiful,\" she says, with a nod to Nurenhir. When he offers her some wine, she looks slyly across at Eryndir. \"What do you say, mellon?\" she asks with a half-smile.

Eryndir smiles wryly at her. \"I am not entierly sure you can be trusted with spirits sometimes.\" Belying this he looks happily at the bottle. \"But how can I refuse?\" he admits, picking up a wine glass from a nearby table and holding it up to be served. \"Who knows, perhaps with this little encouragement our little Melin here might be persuaded to give us a song.\"

\"Yet this is not the most potent of our vintage,\" Nurenhir smiles, filling Eryndir\'s glass with a practiced hand. A second glass is also poured, though set upon the table with a trembling of red liquid. \"Should you decide,\" he says with a wry twist of his voice.

Moving past the table, the steward seeks to serve other merry-makers, the gentle sound of laughter ever on his lips.

Mellindiel bows her head politely as the other elf leaves, then eyes the glass of liquor longingly. She eyes Eryndir once more. \"I am not as weak in the stomach as you say,\" she states defensively, then picks up the glass and sips.

Eryndir arches and eyebrow at her. \"Indeed?\" He lifts his own glass and drinks deeply, eyeing her the entire time, making a show of how much he was drinking, then lowers the glass. \"Well then, you may have as much as you like I\'m not your keeper.\"

\"Indeed you are not.\" Mellindiel smiles, blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. \"But one drink will do.\" She looks over at the shelter, where the musicians continued to play. \"Do you want to move closer? It\'s often nice just to listen, though we may sing as well if you wish.\"

Eryndir nods at her, standing with his plate and drink, and gesturing for the young elf to advance first. He bends down and stealthily gathers the instruments placed aside and takes them to some seats nearer to the musicians, placing them underneath their seats: observable, but not blatently obvious.

Mellindiel takes the seat offered to her and places her half-empty glass on the ground next to her feet. She turns her attention to the musicians: a harpist and a lute-player. They are very good: their music is joyful but subdued, befitting the slower dances that were being practiced to one side of the shelter.

Eryndir watches Melin observing the musicians for a while before putting his plate and glass aside, instead taking up the harp and lute. Quietly, as not to bother the musicans or those listening in, he pucks gently on the lute\'s strings, listening to each individual pitch, before adjusting them slightly, tuning it up, his own harp having been delicately adjusted before arrival.

Hearing a faint noise next to her, the tailor looks across at her companion and raises an eyebrow. \"What are you doing?\" she asks, inquisitively but not unkindly.

\"You may be a finer musician than me, Melin,\" he tells her without looking up from his work, \"But I am far better at maintaining instruments.\" With a few final twists of a tuning handle he stops, looks up and hands her the instrument \"There: now it should sound a little more delicate. Perhaps you could play a song or two, test it out.\" As if on cue the musicians finish their song and bow to a small applause from the audience, then step down from the small stage for eat and chat with the others.

Mellindiel looks from Eryndir to the departing musicians and back, then smiles slightly. \"You planned this beforehand, didn\'t you?\" she accuses him lightheartedly. She looks around: most of the dancers have not moved, instead looking at her expectantly. \"Well, I suppose if you are so insistent...\"

She positions a chair in the middle of the shelter, a tiny footstool in front of it, and sits down, lute in her lap and her left foot propped up on the stool. Her hands move fondly over her instrument, then she looks up, smiling uncertainly.

Eryndir smiles at her, lifting his own harp and advancing onto the stage to sit beside her. \"You didn\'t think I\'d leave you on your own, did you? How about we play...\" he purses his lips thoughtfully, thinking. \"The Song of Orerui: you sing it so beautifully after all.\"

Mellindiel laughs. \"Orerui it is, then.\" She looks to the audience. \"I hope you find it to your liking: feel free to sing along.\" She looks down, places her fingers on the fretboard, and strums a single chord, then a second one, followed by a complicated but pleasant melody.

In harmony with Melin, Eryndir pucks gently on his harp. He does not play swiftly or with complexity like the female elf, but each of his notes are true, and in perfect harmony with the other elf\'s song.

After a moment, Mellindiel\'s voice rings out:

Si rhiw thinna a ethuil gala

A loss thinnad heria

Govannam maded a linnad

An idhrinn suilannad

As winter makes its way for spring

And snows begin to clear

We gather here and feast and sing

To welcome in the year.

Eryndir joins her, singing in a very deep voice for an elf, just a half a note behind her, giving Mellindiel\'s voice a strange echoing quality.

After a brief instrumental, the song continues.

Gelaidh, arad galen oltha

Anglennar lagor

Na ur moe Anor suilanna

Lass a eredh tolthad

The bare trees dream of greener days

That now approach with speed

The sun greets them with gentle rays

To coax both leaf and seed.

The harp\'s notes take on a lighter quality, increasing in tempo slightly. Likewise, Eryndirs voice rises a few notes, moving just slightly nearer to her own note. It narrows the echo into a slight waver, like a new seed struggling to rise from the earth.

Mellindiel plucks a few more strings, then settles into the third verse.

Minui lyth tuiad heriar

E thoss a golf rathad

A ross, be sereg amar

Lavan a loth egleriad

The newest flowers have begun to bud,

Nodding from bush and bower

And water, like the earth’s lifeblood,

Nurtures both beast and flower

Eryndir tenses more, fingers working the strings tirelessly to keep up with the melody of the other elf, yet his voice dosn\'t waver, and, as the final words of the third verse end, Eryndir\'s voice catches up with Mellindiel, sliding into perfect counterpoint with each other.

This time there is a longer instrumental, then Mellindiel simplifies her playing so that the words gain more focus.

Orerui ar ethuil suilar

Si Anor, amar laug cara

Pan nad cuinad carar

A gell a glass anna.

So we greet the new year and the spring,

As Anor warms the earth

It breathes life into many things

And gives us cause for mirth.

Mellindiel finishes with a repetition of the beginning motif, ending with a single chord. She looks up from her lute and around her, smiling dreamily.

Eryndir watches Melin for a moment, smiling at her, then stands up and walks over to her, leaning over her shoulder and gently lifing the lute out of her hands. \"Beautifully done, Melin,\" he says gently in her ear, guiding her up and motioning them into a bow. The crowd gives them a standing ovation, even the dancers pausing to add their appreciation.

After the applause dies away, Eryndir takes Melin by the hand, the other musicians taking their places back on the stage. Then, before she can respond, Eryndir leads her towards the dancers. The musicians strike up a lively tune. \"You may be a better musican,\" he says loudly over the music, \"but -I- am a better dancer!\" and drags her into the dancing fray.

The tailor squeaks in surprise but allows herself to be dragged away. In a moment she finds her feet and follows her friend\'s lead, dancing gaily to the musicians. After the song finishes, another is played, then another.  At length the sunlight fades and the lanterns strung along Tumladen are the only source of illumination, glowing like stars trapped in glass. The elves continue to dance and feast into the night, making the most of their seasonal celebrations.