A Tear in the Tale

Garden Porch

This is a covered porch running the whole length of the east side of the house. There are several comfortable places to sit and look out at the garden. Outside, you can see the gardens in the east and south, and catch a glimpse of the Bruinen over the garden walls. In the north, a trail heads out through an arch in the garden wall.

Obvious exits:

West leads to East Entrance Hall.

East leads to Garden.

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

IC time is:    Early Afternoon < About  1:45 PM >

IC day is:     Ormenel

IC date is:    29 Echuir

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: Sun Feb 14 19:55:11 2010

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A brisk breeze runs over the porch, cooling the heat of midday into pleasant afternoon. Here in the House of Elrond, on a large porch overlooking the gardens, is Eryndir, sitting cross-legged on a large cushion on the floor. He is shirtless, his bow and belt lying beside him. In his hands is his favorite shirt, made of dark green silk, patterned in delicate scrollwork marring it, however, is a large rip across the left sleeve.

Eryndir holds a large needle, more suited for leather than silk, attached to rough thread, and he attempts to slide it through the bottom part of the rip. Stabbing his finger in the process, he lets out a yelp and sucks on his finger.

As if summoned by Eryndir\'s cry, light footsteps can now be heard from behind a hedge of flowers in the garden, moving at a leisured pace. A few more steps and a head of darker hair pokes out from behind the hedge. It is Mellindiel, one of the Imladrim tailors. She carries an embroidered satchel in gloved hands. As if searching for the source of the sound, Mellindiel looks around her. When her gaze falls on the porch, she spots Eryndir and her face softens. Smiling, she makes her way towards the porch.

Eryndir looks out and frowns towards the garden, sucking on his hurt finger when Mellindiel walks out from behind a hedge. Recognising her, he smiles and waves enthusiastically.\"Melin! Over here!\" he shouts, then he looks back down at the shirt and resumes his haphazard repairs.

Once on the porch, the Cirithril looks down at her friend and his crude attempts to repair his tunic. \"Mae govannen, Eryndir,\" she says, still smiling. \"What have you done to my shirt?\"

Eryndir grins sheepishly and holds up the torn garment for her inspection. \"It\'s quite a tale,\" he says. \"I\'d be happy to regale you, if you\'d be kind enough to fix this for me.\" He shows her his huntsman\'s needle and pricked finger. \"I know I don\'t have your talent with cloth.\"

Mellindiel shakes her head in amusement. \"No matter how many times I let you know that you can come to me when you need repairs, you insist on trying to fix it yourself.\" She pulls over a second cushion and sits down next to her friend. \"It is a wonder that you didn\'t make the hole bigger, poking your needle through like that.\" She holds out a hand to collect the tunic, lips twitching with withheld laughter.

Eryndir tucks away his needle and thread into his belt pouch, then stretches, yawns, and leans back against the low, plush couch he was sitting in front of. \"You know if I came to you with every scrape and tear I got you\'d have no time for anything else,\" he teases her, smiling. \"And I\'d never hear the end of it from you. Besides, this time it wasn\'t my fault!\"

This time Mellindiel cannot retain her mirth: she lets out a shower of giggles, light as the tinkling of tiny bells. \"I care little about whose fault it is, mellon,\" she murmurs, and spreads the tunic out on her lap. Opening her satchel, she places a few flowers on the floorboards, and retrieves a needle - much finer than Eryndir\'s - and a small spool of silk thread. \"And as for keeping me busy with your ruined garments, you make it sound like you are a child who falls over or snags a branch every few days! Make no mistake, mellon: I know you are a Feredir of Imladris. Why, if you were indeed a child, or a less graceful being, you would look very different to what you do now.\" She looks up for a moment, taking in the hunter\'s beautiful, unmarred skin, then looks down again, almost too quickly to notice. She blushes lightly, however, a small, secret smile painted across her lips.

\"Ok, ok, I\'ll admit, I didn\'t want you to know I\'d torn your gift to me,\" he said, blushing slightly. \"I had thought I could repair it myself, but...\" he trailed off, giving her a \'What else could I do?\' smile before continuing. \"I must say, it was the strangest of occurances. See, I was returning from hunting returning empty handed and dissapointed as well...\" His face grew a little solem, the smile dissapearing from his face.

\"But then I saw a doe: the most beautiful doe I have ever seen. Its coat shone bright and flawless, with eyes so bright and intelligent I could have sworn it was enjoying the view. Naturally I followed it. I climbed a nearby tree to get closer without scaring her and followed her til I had a clear shot.\" His brow furrows. \"Then, as I readied my bow, the strangest thing happened: a bird flew at me out of nowhere.\"

Mellindiel\'s eyes widen and she looks at him in pretend shock. \"A bird? Truly?\"

Eryndir scowls at her mocking of him. \"I\'m sure you must find this all very entertaining, but I could have sworn that the bird flew at me on purpose. I had just taken aim: a second more and the doe would have been mine!\" He says the words with a mix of frustration and confusion, not at Melin but because the coincidence seemed too unlikely for mere bad luck. \"Not only that,\" he continues, \"but after the first, a second bird flew into me from behind I was caught completely unawares. Then another joined him, and then it seemed the air was full of wings and feathers, so I lept to the ground and without meaning to landed right in front of the doe. Yet she wasn\'t scared she just looked at me with those eyes for a long moment before turning and walking away.\" He turns and looks at her and the frustration seems to melt away, leaving a kind of awe on his voice. \"\'Tis odd, is all.\"

\"Very odd,\" the Cirithril agrees. She threads her needle and pulls her thread through the fabric, working quickly but deftly. \"Did you see the birds? What did they look like?\"

\"I... I didn\'t really get a look at them: they were flying in my face after all, and I was watching the doe very closely, but I\'m pretty sure they were grey and white.\" He hesitates slightly on the last few words. \"Suffice to say, one of those blasted birds tore my sleeve before I got away from them I hadn\'t even noticed it was torn til I was almost back.\"

Mellindiel catches the hunter\'s eye and shakes her head, smiling. \"Oh, Eryndir, you tell the tallest of tales. I cannot fathom why I like you so much.\"

Eryndir slumps, looking defeated \"And I cannot fathom why I end up spending so much time with you, when you ne\'er belive a word I say. Still, I\'ll admit, I wasn\'t hunting the doe: I was hunting the very birds that attacked me. There was nothing else to be had, and enough black smoke in the distance to worry me more than a lack of animals.\" He shifts to his knees in a fluid motion and looks her in the eyes. \"But whether you believe me or not, I saw such a doe, and it worried me. I wouldn\'t have dared shoot it even if I had the chance.\"

The elleth sighs, maintaining his gaze. \"That is unfortunate news, Eryndir. It seems that darkness is approaching us on many fronts.\" She raises a hand to tenderly touch his cheek. \"I am glad that you did not pursue the deer. It is spring, after all, and the mothers are needed to raise their children. Although it is possible that the land will perish, we must hold onto the hope we can.\"

Mellindiel looks down once more, pulls through a few final stitches, then shakes out the cloth. Though not as good as new, the stitches are neat and barely noticeable on the dark silk. \"There,\" she says quietly. \"Much better. Try to stay away from Goshawk nests until the chicks are older, won\'t you?\"

Eryndir accepts the shirt from Melin and slips it over his head, then loops his belt back around his chest before turning his head back and forth, to see if the stitches showed up under different light. Eryndir gets to his feet. \"You don\'t miss a thing, do you?\" he told her, a statment rather than a question.

\"Well, I should go and make use of the last of this day perhaps I shall have better luck this time.\" He smiles then leans down and kisses her on the forehead. \"Thanks for fixing my shirt, Melin,\" he says and begins to head off, into the gardens.

She is motionless for a full second, as if trying to realise what had just happened. Then she ducks her head down, blushing rose pink. Mellindiel looks through her eyelashes at her friend\'s departing feet.

\"Anytime,\" she says to the air in general, then closes her eyes, leans back against the railing, and sighs.