Shaded Lawn

Surrounded by tall trees, this expansive green lawn provides the optimal place for those who feel like taking a nap in the cool shade or having a quiet picnic beneath the shining boughs of the trees. Lining the west and the south side of the lawn, thick groves of brightly-shining Mellryn tower above you. Meanwhile to the North, several hedges block your view of the Northern Garden area. To the west, a gradual sloping staircase glistens as its built in to the side of the hill and climbs upwards towards another level of trees. A small path heads East and North to the other sections of the Finrim Garden. From above, the stars shine down and illuminate this quiet lawn.

Night falls on the woods of Lothlorien and the first stars appear in the sky. A few birds are singing their evening song, otherwise all is quiet.

Out in the open, the Lady Arwen is standing with her face turned up to the stars, alone. There is a small flower in her hand, and a thoughtful expression on her face, but she is still smiling to herself.

Bathed in the argentine glow of the moon and stars filtering down through the canopy, an elleth steps silently through the trees onto the lawn. Even under the cloak of night, her movements are visibly stiff and labored, or at least more so than those who know her would expect. As Amarelei's gaze falls across the Lady Arwen, a smile both serene and troubled curves at the corners of her lips. With no more than shallow sigh, she breaks her pause and continues towards the Heryn, preceding her greeting with a quiet clearing of her throat. "A blessed evening to you, Lady. I hope the stars find you well?" she intones softly, her voice nearly carried away by the gentle breeze.

"As well as they may." Arwen answers without turning at first, "But it seems," and here she looks up, with a faint smile that does nothing to hide slight concern, "That they find you... less than comfortable. I am glad to see you have returned, Galthor, but your expedition seems to have had some effect on your well-being...?" she lets the question hang in the air as she studies the other elleth.

Amarelei rises from a reverent bow, a cascade of earthen brown waves spilling forth about her shoulders. Though her tresses manage to cover the healing gashes that marr the fair skin of her neck and shoulders, her bandaged hands are not so easily hidden. Clasping them awkwardly at her waist, the elleth nods absently before murmuring a reply. "Indeed I have been better. And in my years to come, I may see worse. But my wounds are shallow and have already begun to heal." Her words bring a self-conscious blush to her cheeks as her eyes fall to her hands once more. "I apologize for the untimeliness of my abscence. When I passed through the gates of the city, I intended not to be away for so long."

"Ah, yes. Fate does play strange tricks on us at times." Arwen says quietly, almost absently. "And yet, we are to set out before long and your rest will be little." She looks intently at the elleth before her. "I hope all that were with you have returned safely as well and require not too much of the healers' attentions?"

Long, dark lashes flutter against Amarelei's pale cheeks as her eyes drift closed for a heartbeat. When they reopen, their hazel green depths speak of her regained composure, as does the steady clarity of her voice. "There are others of our party with minor ailments as well, yet none have suffered beyond what can be withstood over the journey home. Healers from both the Golden Wood and our own valley have been most attentive." The Galthor seems to have found a hidden comfort in Arwen's words, and yet the faraway gleam in her eyes does not fade. "They focus now on the great Herald of the Skies, for his need is far greater."

Her eyes focusing from absent to sharp alertness, Arwen shakes her head slightly. "One of the Eagles?" she asks very quietly, and then, "What happened? Tell me the story, if you would. It seems there is one that may be important to be heard."

Amarelei turns her gaze heavenward, the starlight iluminating her face and the weariness that rests heavily upon her fine features. "Our intent was to behold the sunrise from just within the cover of the mellyrn. Yet just as the sun's warmth spilled forth over the mountains, mine eyes did behold the great Windrider's fall from the skies. My companions, the Thandir Linnuial among them, did not witness the incident."

The earthen-haired elleth of garden and stream speaks in a low, flowing melody, a serene accompaniment to the birdsong floating bove their heads. "In its close kinship with the denizens of the skies and forests, my heart led me to guide the others. We came across the eagle, Sarinar, and none too soon. He is with the healers of the wood, though I have heard little of how he fares today."

There is silence but for the birdsong for a few moments. "Ah..." Arwen lets out softly, a thoughtful expression on her face, then she shakes her head. "The messages I have received are perhaps more serious than I thought, even. We should set out as soon as all can be ready. How soon do you think that we can do so, Galthor?"

"The Thandir's wounds are more daunting than mine, though his strength also far exceeds my own," Amarelei concedes, then turning to face Arwen with a semblance of hope upon her countenance. "Speaking as one who knows naught of travel, save what I have learned from this venture...I can think little to hold back our departure, if it must be so. Perhaps we shall again see the banks of the Bruinen before the frost falls upon the valley?"

Arwen smiles faintly. "That may be so." she says quietly. "And that is my hope, for when the frost falls upon the valley, it will be winter in the mountains, as well." With that, she nods briefly. "And as such, we should prepare our departure. If you will carry the word to our companions?"

A gentle smile graces Amarelei's blushing mouth, and to the Lady she offers a humble nod. "That I will, Lady, and at once. I am sure that they too long for the day when we will once again set foot upon the steps of the Last Homely House." The breeze animates the layers of silk of Amarelei's gown, swirling lavender around her feet and fingertips as she takes a few slow steps toward the cover of the trees from whence she came.

The Lady's answer is a simple nod, as she looks longingly at the mallyrn, turning the small elanor flower between her fingers. "As do I." she says quietly into the night air, for no ears but those of the forest itself. "And as I do not." With that, she turns, and passes into the opposite direction.

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