The great hall of Mithrim is brightly lit this cold winter's night, for tonight a great banquet is being held in the palace, in honor of the kingdom's guests from Dor-Lomin, who are going home soon. The room is beautifully decorated for the occasion, and fine linens are on the tables, the place settings feature the finest dinnerware, and the tables are laden down with almost every kind of delicacy one could possibly desire.
All organized by Gwethril Silmariel Andunewen, of course. ^_^

A tall man walks and stand in the high frame of the golden doors, he pauses a moment, his deep gaze drifting across the room with no small wonder. A curt nod he gives the guard and a soft smile. The long gait of the man brings him into the room with simple grace, and the soft sounds that his boots make rise just above the sounds of the hall. The broidered threads of the cloak, which hangs about the mans shoulder catch the candle light, as do the golden threads of his tunic.

His height alone would perhaps be enough to reveal Galdor to the room, neglecting even is his rich clothing and the mans noble baring. The mans golden hair is flecked in places by fallen snow, and his pale eyes gleam from the chill air without. He walks just inside the hall, casting his gaze once more over the whole room, his smile broadens to see the fair hall and the fabulous contents.

Following closely behind the lord of her land, a woman of Dor-lomin enters the high hall of Menelmakar. Her footsteps fall lightly on the many-hued floor, and the lights of the great chandeliers are reflected in the fire of her hair. She raises her head and glances about. The assembly seems more wonderful this evening than ever before, for all that she will leave it soon. Lindis smiles in regret, and yet, in greater joy. This will not be an evening to forget.

Minutes pass as the gathering grows larger and larger. Guests come and take their places amongst the tables. Suddenly, four Royal Guards enter from the audience chamber and take up positions on either side of the entryway. A herald enters first and takes a place on the right side saying, "My lords and ladies!..." the crowd quiets somewhat as the jovial speech turns to an excited whisper. "'Tis my honor to present to you honored guests, Aran Fingon, the Valiant, High King of the Elves of Beleriand..."

A tall elven lord thus appears at the entryway, resplendent in his glistening chain-mail. He stops for a moment nodding to those closest and then makes his way through the crowd to the head table. His blue eyes mark each person individually and a nod and warm smile he has for all...

Minutes pass as the gathering grows larger and larger. Guests come and take their places amongst the tables. Suddenly, four Royal Guards enter from the audience chamber and take up positions on either side of the entryway. A herald enters first and takes a place on the right side saying, "My lords and ladies!..." the crowd quiets somewhat as the jovial speech turns to an excited whisper. "'Tis my honor to present to you honored guests, Aran Fingon, the Valiant, High King of the Elves of Beleriand..."

A tall elven lord thus appears at the entryway, resplendent in his glistening chain-mail. He stops for a moment nodding to those closest and then makes his way through the crowd to the head table. His blue eyes mark each person individually and a nod and warm smile he has for all...

As the Elven pages enter the room, Galdor's head wheels to meet them, he listens to their address and stands in wait. As Fingon enters the room, the tall lord walks swiftly towards him. As he nears the High King, he stands still, and bows deeply. As he stands again, he speaks softly, yet with a rich pleasent pitching. "Mae Govannen Aran Fingon, it is good to be here at your askance." He remains part bow, waiting address from his only Lord. "My thanks and my peoples thanks for your kind hospitality. Your home of Menelmacar has not grown less fair, indeed, my memory has been replenished, lest it ever might dim."

Arise, Lord Galdor. Your kind words will be remembered. It has been both my pleasure and the pleasure of my court to have such honored guests among us," Fingon says as he reaches out placing his hand on Galdor's shoulder. With a nod and a smile, he continues on and finds his seat at the head of the main table. Before sitting down, he addresses the crowd, "Please...all of you...resume your merriment...for tonight, let us forget the darkness and dwell only upon things of light and happiness." With that he sits down glancing expectantly in Silmariel's direction.

Lindis stands alone as Galdor and Fingon, an adaneth of unremarkable height beside a tall, stately column. Her eyes behold the King of the elves of Beleriand, and her mind ponders the great chance that brought her people to this land many years ago. King Fingon's voice then rings out for all the people present, and Lindis does not try to halt the cheer that springs to her lips, joining those of the gathered companions. Smiling, she sweeps her hands over her skirts, and approaches a group of her acquantances at a nearby table.

Silmariel hurries over to the table... pausing a moment as she ponders the seating arrangement. Galdor over there, Ereinion over here... *blinkblink* Silently wishing Fingon had three sides, she pulls out the chair on the other side of Gil-Galad and makes to sit down, but has a better idea. Still standing, she raises her wine glass high and says, "I'd like to propose a toast: to the eternal peace and happiness of Hithlum, may both Man and Elf forever prosper."

Many are of unremarckable height beside the two towering lords, and Elagil is no exception, and yet he holds himself straight among the few knights Galdor brought with him, a handful of his white cloth clasped in his hand, lowering his glance only perhaps as the eyes of Fingon sweep over him when the king address the crowd. And the signal to merriment is given and he quickly joins one of the lady who accompanied the Lady of Dor-Lomin. Lindis's arms is clasped soon instead of cloak which billows between his legs, "Let have some nice place with a view on the king and toast up" Elagil smiles, offering her one glass.

The gaze of Galdor follows the High King slowly. As he is bidden, he follows in Fingon's wake, to take a seat upon the right side. A lady adorned in a dress of skyblue, finely embroidered with flowers of silver and white, at the neck and sleeves, walks to his side. With a warm smile the man lifts her arm to his. As a page pulls the chair back for the Lord and Lady, he sits at Fingon's side, and Hareth sits by her husband.

From the table, his gaze drifts over the room, marking his own folk, some still entering through the golden doors and others waiting to be seated. He places a hand upon his knee and the other keeps Hareth's. The golden haired man leans his back against the solid chair, with a soft sigh he begins to speak. His voice is pitched so to carry little past the High King, "So M'Lord how have you faired these past two years? It seems like an age has past, yet perhaps to your mind." A hand rises to his chin, and his brows knit in thought, "I would dearly like to see you at my own house, and repay this kindness. It may be good to see whether I govern my land as you would wish it." At the last he chuckles softly, and lets his gaze pass over the room once more, as the voice of Silmariel rises. A large hand moves to a goblet, already charged by those tending the table, he raises it, mouthing the words softly to himself."

Fingon raises his own cup and watches Silmariel with a sparkle in his eye as she makes her toast. No words does he add, he only nods and then takes a sup from the goblet. Turning his attention back to Galdor he smiles and says, "In the short time since..." his gaze suddenly clouds over as he thinks back to the tragic events that occured just a short time ago, "...well, since our troubles resumed with the North, things have been strangely quiet. As for your 'repayment' as you put it, I think we may take you up on the offer...and sooner then you think. For I have taken counsel on making a trip down to the Falas..."

Lindis takes the bright goblet in her left hand, and lifts it skywards. "Eternal peace and happiness," she says quietly. The adaneth casts a look at her husband, and without a word, consents to be led to the side of Silmariel. The young woman looks at the faces of the elves seated at table, some of whom she has never seen before. Perhaps the elven man at the King's side is his son Ereinion - yet she finds it difficult to discern ages among the First Kindred. Inclining her head to Elagil's, she murmurs: "Is that Gil-Galad the Prince, beside the King? Forgive my question, love, for he is new to mine eyes."

The Marachian Lord listens first to the toasts of the room, a smile touches his lips to hear it spoken by man and Elf as one. Then his gaze shifts to meet Fingon's, "Ahh, a fine choice indeed; little can stir the heart more than the sightss and sounds of Belegaer, and I can speak highly of that good kindred as hosts, for two summers since I enjoyed a stay in their land." He sips once more from his wine and a look of contentment grows upon his face. "It is no suprise to me Aran Fingon, but this wine is perhaps the finest I have tasted." He sips again, savouring the tase afore he speaks again. Replacing his goblet he straightens, "So, may I ask Lord, will your path be through Dor-lomin and over Amon Darthir? That pass is always watched and my knowledge is that this would be the swiftest and safest way for you. If this shall be your road, you will head out and return by my own gate, so I hope, mayhap, to ahve the pleasure to be host twice."

Elagil lifts his glass imitating the whole crowd and takes place at the seat one elven page insists he takes. Lindis is seated near, not so far from the ambassador of Mithrim. "I trust.. I have never seen him before" Elagil bends to his companion ear, blowing a few wisp of blonde hair. "They look quite like father and son, the nose, the glance.." he mutters. "Falas ?" his voice comes louder, to Silmariel attention, "I am sure you will like lady Silmariel. There is the Sea... endless. And you will cross our lands" he adds.

Silmariel smiles at Elagil. "I hope so, mellon," she says, as she takes a bite of her steak. "For I wish to see the whole of Beleriand. Yet I know yet not whether I will be accompanying the King on this journey." She takes a sip of the wine... yes. Silmy brought the wine. Compliments to the ambassador, yes? And the wine merchant she got it from.

Fingon nods in agreement to the words from both Elagil and Galdor. "Aye, 'tis through Dor-Lomin we shall travel...and my son, along with a heavy guard will accompany me," he says motioning to Ereinion sitting at his side. Ereinion smiles at his father and the resemblence is striking. Fingon turns his gaze to his goblet once more as if his thoughts are elsewhere and a smile comes to his face. Reaching out he takes a small corner of cheese, tastes it, then takes another sip of wine.
A worried look crosses the Gwethril's face, for she wasn't mentioned; she continues to eat in relative silence, with a little sigh.

Fingon observes the look of his ambassador and adds, "along with the guard there will be others <nods to Silmariel> that will accompany me."

Lindis cuts a slice from her grilled fish and tastes it. "Trout," she murmurs when the morsel is swallowed. "Delicious!" Smiling, she looks towards Silmariel and catches the Ambassador's gaze. "This feast is the very height of hospitatlity, Gwethril. I will miss your company when Elagil and I return to Coronost. Yet, if you do accompany the King to Falas, perhaps we shall meer again ere long?"

Elagil dips his head politely toward Fingon, as his words travelled to his royal ears and smiles at Silmariel, most politely. "The king will be the guest of our lord, I trust you will be ours milady, you mus taste some of the wine we brought from Falas, a prelude to your trip."

Almar has taken his seat with the others and starts to eat from the different dishes, sampling a bit from each one until his plate is full. He eats not really talking to much, letting the others do that and for the most part just listens to the talk about the table.

Silmariel glances over at Fingon as he speaks... and her eyes light up as she catches his hin, and a wide smile grows on her face. She looks over at Lindis. "Thank you," she says with a smile. "It was... an experience organizing it. So many things to get just right... but I ramble. Thank you again. And I shall miss you too. I certainly hope I will get the chance to visit you." She pauses for a moment. "That painting will look good in your hall, I think."

Casting a smile towards his wife at the foods arrayed before them, Galdor takes a piece of meat from a platter, and cuts from it a small mouthful, which he begins to eat. As he finishes it, again he sips from his goblet. "Glad tidings M'Lord, if you'd will it mayhap my own guard could escort you a little way beyond our lands borders, it would make me happier to do this." His voice is pitched warmly and pleasently, yet with some resolve. Another piece of meat he takes, and smiles as Haleth speaks to him. "Aran Fingon, my wife and I both agree, this food afore us, is turly delicious." He smiles and looks about the room, casting a smile to his guards, who have themselves begun to eat, and lastly to the Lord and Lady of Coronost. his smile grows warmer still, and filled with pride to see two sits so fairly with even Elves as peirs."

"I owe all thanks for the pleasantness of my table to Silmariel. She has done an outstanding job in the preparation of this feast," at that moment Fingon raises his goblet once again and nods toward his ambassador, smiling in appreciation. "I also will accept your offer, M'lord. It would please me greatly to have your guard along as well. Perhaps, I may even convince you to make this trip to the coast as well...I'm sure your wife would not object to seeing the Falas...?" The last is said with a glance toward Galdor's wife.

Lindis considers profoundly beautiful rendering of the Two Trees, given to them by Silmarien, and nods. "Any hall but this, and mayhap that of Nargothrond, is too poor for the Trees of Valinor, Silmariel. Yet, though it is above us, it shall be a blessing. Again, I thank you for your generosity."

Hareth smiles softly at the High Kings words, she speaks in answer "You guess my mind well Lord, but we shall see." Her gaze lowers from the High King and then lifts to meet Galdor's, a soft smile she offers him.

Galdor's voice rises and he looks to the High King. "I may not be able to come Aran Fingon, I have had news from Amon Darthir. It seems an Emissary of the folk of Beor has come to my lands, and it remains to be seen whether they shall swell my own folk. If they do come, I fear it will be more than a season work finding homes and food for these souls, till they find a place of their own. This will all need to be done afore winter again bites. Yet perhaps, if a trusted Captain can be given the government of the borders, I might come with you for a time. For you do know my Ladies mind well, for she has the love of the sea in her." His gaze turns to Elagil, he grins. "What say you Lord of Coronost, might you order the coming of our kin, and free myself and my lady to rest by the sea for a while?"
Elagil puts back the glass he had lifted to his lips, a small droplet of purple is spilled on his fingers, nearly blood. "Your will shall be done milord" Elagil replies, not used to discuss the suggestions or order of the Hadorling. "I shall oversees it, I hope they will find some solace in Hithlum, the valiant ones of Dorthonion."

Lindis speaks no word, only watching her husband as he shoulders the task of housing the refugees. She begins to consider what will have to be done. It will be a light duty, less than nothing to see to their friends - and yet a heavy responsibility. It will be some kind of happiness to lessen their suffering - yet, would that Dorthonion had never fallen!

Almar glances over as Galdor, Elagil, and Fingon speak, though he continues to nibble at the food he collected on his plate. He goes to take a drink of his wine, but finds his glass empty and refills it then takes another sip. He listens for Elagil's answer to Galdor, but knows what will be said before he hears it, and nods when he is proved right.

Silmariel sighs. "Those poor people..." she says softly. "It is my dearest hope that they make the move safely, and that they prosper here in Hithlum."

A smile crosses the King's lips as he listens to Hareth and Galdor's words. Just as quickly as it appeared it fades though as he thinks of the people of Dorthonion. 'Alas, there is always sorrow amidst joy' he thinks to himself. His glance goes to the candles on the table and for a moment he is lost among memories...

After what seems an eternity, he stirs himself and rises from his seat. "I must apologize to you all and excuse myself for a moment..." With those words he nods to all at the table and turns, heading toward the audience chamber...

Silmariel at last finishes her meal, and sets down her fork. "Alas, I too am called away by urgent matters," she says. "It is my greatest wish, my friends, to see you all again before you depart." She smiles to the edain, gives Galdor a little bow, and leaves the table... perhaps oddly, heading in the same direction Fingon left in.

Almar watches as the people drift off from the banquet, though he keeps his seat still nibbling at this or that dish still left on the table. He looks over to Elagil, "So there are a lot of folk from Dorthonion that arrived back home? I heard there were some there, but nothing more than some had arrived."
Elagil bends over his wife figure to hear Almar better. "Aye, I heard this a few days ago, a messenger arrived, many came from Brethil to us, they will need help, I hope you will be with us there, other guards can go with Galdor, but you, you know many of them."

Almar nods, "I can stay behind, for I have never been to Falas so do not know what I am missing there. I do speak the language of the people of Beor, as well as know their ways. I am sure we will need nails and such to build them homes, as well as other goods. There will be much work to do."

"I bet it's a vanguagrd of them, many must be in Brethil, your skill in their tongue will be precious, I still remember their words." Elagil smiles, and for once not at Lindis, but at one past not so far.