The oaks that girt Thranduil's hill with their venerable limbs abruptly stop as they come to the edge of a clearing that encircles a modest forest lake. To the west, winding up the rocky hillside, a path breaks free of the ancient oaks to follow through thinner trees with more precarious perches alongside a small, sparkling stream to a ledge halfway up.
In summer, the lush sward that encircles the lake is dense and green, a bright emerald backdrop to the varigated flowers that stud the field. Bulrushes with heavy heads nodding gently in the breeze wade out into the lake, and faint rustling and quacking betray the nests of the great black swans who glide majestically on the pool's surface. Slung between two scaly-barked cherry trees near the shore, a willow-withe bench just big enough for two rocks easily over a bed of fragrant lavender.
Flitting here and there like little bolts of irridescent lightning, hummingbirds sipping from blossoms as brightly colored as they are hover amidst rainbows loosed by the sun's rays on their breasts. Above, the sky is a vast, cloudless blue mirrored in the surface of the pond. Black swans and their cygnets still half-clad in patches of downy grey swim across its surface, trailing widening ripples in the water behind them.
Contents:
Vierayana
Giluin
Aelin Nenmir(#13157QXaeM)
Obvious exits:
Uphill leads to Urui Celw (Hot Springs).
South leads to Oak Grove.
By the lake a tall elf idly sits, dipping his toe in the water, and enjoying the sunny day. As the birds flit and flutter overhead he seems to be enjoying the sounds and the songs they produce.
The sound of a few hummingbirds moves over the clearing as they flutter about.
Chirrpa Chirrpa chirp chirp rrrrrrrrrpa
Yet another summer morn passes lazy and warm, with nary a cloud to shade this lakeside clearing. While hummingbirds flit from flower to flower in the meadow, and dragonflies dart across the water's surface, at the shore, where land and water meet, a tangle of black feathers and orange beaks raises a terrible squawking. Eilialhenel is in the midst of them, one hand holding her dress above her ankles, which are hidden in the shallow water, and the other extended as she holds out a bit of something to the swans.
From the trees, a dark young elven maid threads her way into the clearing. She resettles the harp strapped to her back and glances around the clearing, smiling a greeting to each present. Her smile broadens as she recognizes Giluin and she hails him. "Mae govannen, mellon!"
Immediately, Vaya claps her hand over her mouth, afraid of startling the graceful swans. Quickly, she step further into the clearing.
Giluin idly moves his eyes from the lakes placid surface to the voice which calls him, "Aye, well met friend..." his eyes flicker to her harp and then his faces awashes in recognition, "Of course, Vierayana, I did not recognize you without your feathered friend."
Eilialhenel takes one unbalanced step, and the grain she holds in her hand is scattered before her in a golden cloud. Half the seed doesn't even make it so far as the water before it is snatched up.
Vierayana looks up as her dear friend Azrayl comes winging his own air-borne way into the clearing. He settles in the branches of a nearby tree, folding his wings back and chirping a welcome to all present.
Eilialhenel chuckles softly and shakes her head as she takes the few muddy steps back to shore. As she walks, she bends over to pick up a fallen reed in stride, and comes to stand upon firmer ground twirling a tuft of feather seeds on the end of a long shaft.
Giluin nods his head towards Eilialhenel, "Myself and Silguilandis Eilialhenel were mearly enjoying the morn. What matter brings you here today?"
"Giluin!" Eilialhenel exclaims. "Don't make her feel like she needs a reason to be here!"
A small smile plays across Giluin's face, "My apologies mellyn, a poor choice of words."
Vierayana smiles glances up at the bright sky. "A glorious morning and a wish to see more of my new home bring me here." She turns her eyes to Eilianhelel. "Oh, it is no problem. I do not mind him so much." She grins at Giluin.
Eilialhenel slips down cross-legged on the summer turf besides the guard. She smiles. "Apologies accepted only when accompanied by song, today, I'm afraid, Giluin."
Vierayana glances down, then up again. "I have nothing to appologize for, I think, but I would gladly aid my friend in his own if you will accept my song as substitute for his."
Laughter bubbles out from Giluin's throught, "Alas Silguilandis! I have no song to sing! It would appear I am indeed in narrow straights."
Eilialhenel raises and eyebrow. "Giluin? The choice is yours. For if I deem her song unfit, your apology will remain unaccepted. Now how do you choose, yay or nay?" she says, smiling.
Silently, Vaya awaits Giluin's answer, her left hand poised over the strap that hold her harp to her back.
Giluin shakes his head smiling, "Well then, I choose Yay." he says as he stands, "For if my fate is in Vieryana's capable hands, I have nothing to fear." He gives a small flourished bow towards Vaya, "My fate is in your hands Lirdir."
Laughter sparkles in her eyes as Vaya unslings her harp, handling with the care of a dear friend. Seating herself near her companions, she rests her harp in her lap and raises her fingers to the strings, looking to Eilialhenel for her sign to begin.
Eilialhenel claps her hands together sharply. "Ah! And so it is decreed! The guard's graces - good or bad - now rely upon Vierayana! So now, silence, if you all would!" she cries, but naturally this is to no avail; the dragonflies buzz just as loudly, the wind blows just as joyfully, the water laps just as gently, and the swans honk just as... well, they just honk.
Eilialhenel nods, attention rapt upon the maiden, for what it is worth.
Giluin seats himself comfortably upon the ground waiting.
As Vaya plucks the first cord, a gentle harmony of crystal notes begins to thread its way throughout the clearing. The first cord is followed closely by a second, then a third. Then, as her fingers move across the strings to weave the harmony, Vaya opens her mouth and begins to sing, her voice clear as crystal and filled with tenderness.
"Listen, oh my friend, do listen
To this tale I sing to thee.
Listen now and you will hear, friend,
All things that you're meant to see.
"Deep beneath the Misty Mountains,
Where the river cuts its weary way,
In the greener place between the hills,
There was the Valley of the Bards.
"Within that peaceful, springtime place,
Dwelt elf and dwarf and human kind,
All of them friends that come together,
There to share their songs with all.
"Songs and laughter did fill the air,
Each face lit up with welcome smiles.
Seldom would a quarrel start,
And their music could be heard across the miles."
As Vaya sings, her voice becomes sadder as her cords take on a sad and darker note. Fingers still moving, she continues her song.
"Gone now are the many songs,
The stories are no longer told.
No more the many smiling faces,
And shadows turn the valley cold
The tone lightens now, and Vaya's clear voice takes on a more hopeful note, as if there is some joy still to be had.
"Those lips that sang the songs of old
Are still and silent in their grief.
But lo! They part to sing the memories
That still shall keep the Valley alive.
"Just ask and you shall hear her tales,
For many does she have to give.
Just close your eyes and listen, friend,
And you shall see her Valley live."
The last notes trail from Vaya's fingers to float away on the breeze or hover in the clearing as they choose. Her tale done, the maiden bows her head over her harp, closing her eyes briefly in honor of the memory.
Eilialhenel smiles, and her eyes glance to Giluin questioningly. "Acceptable?"
A soft trill from Azrayl rouses Vaya and she lifts her head, her golden eyes to look at each of her companions, and perhaps new friends, in turn.
Giluin slowly stands up and smiles broadly, "A truly excellent song Lirdir Vayarana" he bows before her, "My faith was not unduly placed."
"My thanks, mellon," she says softly to Giluin. I was happy to play for you both."
Eilialhenel nods her agreement. "No, not at all. Your apology, Giluin, is accepted, and then some. Will you be playing at the bardic congress, Vierayana?"
Vierayana glances down. "I..am not sure, lady. I am still new to this land, though I have lived here for some time. I was..sadly unaware of the exhistance of the bardic congress."
Vierayana looks up. "Yet, if they ask it of me, I will gladly play there," she adds, her tone firm, though still soft.
Eilialhenel looks upon Vierayana with some surprise. "Haven't heard of the bardic congress? Well..." and she lets this pass for a moment with a shrug. "In any case, it would be the right of any bard of this land to perform there, and if any should argue your status of one, let them come and argue with me."
Giluin nods, "Aye Vieyarana, you have as good a shot as any other."
Vierayanas cheeks turn just a shade darker. "Of course," she says, this time bowing, haven given up on curtseys for the time. "And please," she adds, "call me Vaya. It is much easier to say than Vierayana."
Azrayl chirps down at Vaya and she looks up at him. Chirping a reply, she turns back to her new friends. "I must take my leave now. It was wonderful to have met you, Eilialhenel." Strapping her harp across her back, she waves to her friends and heads back into the woods from which she came.
