Log file from Elendor.

Mal Taurduin at the Willow

An ancient reminder of Nan-tasarion of old, a venerable willow grows twisted and gnarled just south of the path. The girth of his massive trunk is enormous, deep wrinkled folds clad all in smooth brown-grey running bottom to top along its entire weathered length. His feet hold him fast to the river's edge; some sinuous toes delving deep into the earth while others twisting emerge from the bank to play with swirling eddies in the cool currents of the Taurduin. Overflowing from his crown and limbs, a sea of withes tumbles out to greet ground and water with their light kisses, in winter their leafless lengths hanging down in a trailing halo where not even the massive beech nor proud oak dare drop their seed. On either side, the old willow is flanked by ground mostly snow covered and bare; seed, root and bulb slumbering through winter safe under earth until the sun's rays once again warm the ground and air. The river grows quite wide and its currents quite peaceful here, as not much further downstream its waters are split in two by the apple island.

The howl of the wind masks all other sounds as it whips thickly falling snowflakes hither and thither and sets the usually complacent currents of the Taruduin splashing angrily. White flakes have grown nearly waist high in some places on the path, though under the protective curtain of the willow the ground remains clear.

Contents:

Calysaelyn

Galwen

Elethin

Arindelle

Kyriana

Brehannas

Lindril

Long Tables

Radagast

Arhuine

Elaure

Aldarwen

Harmamir

Legolas

Arhuine glances at Lindril and chuckles softly.

Elaure raises a hand to her little face, then two, and brushes the hair out of her eyes.

Legolas sweeps his hand over the assemly and says, "Also we have several special guests. Mithrandir, whom needs no introduction. His cousin, and friend of our Wood, Radagast," he indicates the wizard with a nod, "And I have recieved word that a few of the Beornings from the Anduin shall visit in repayment for their efforts in keeping the pass clean of trouble in these weeks past. I bid you all to recieve them welcome!"

Calysaelyn smiles warmly as she notices Aldarwen and quickly makes her way over to her, eyes glancing to and fro while taking in the sights.

Beaming at the Prince's welcome, Elethin flits with capricious grace through the crowd toward Aldarwen, like a will-o'-wisp.

Radagast looks up, having hear one of the names he is called by, and acknowledges the pronouncement with a perfunctory nod.

Brehannas sits back against a tree as his prince speaks. He seems oblivious to the fact that he is still dressed in travel cloths. He begins to look across the /area/ some more. This time spending some more time on the elves he does not recognize.

Galwen walks towards the gathering but remains towards the edges, a hand resting lighhtly on her spear as she and a few others return from a patrol of the woods

Lindril glances over at the brown-robed figure with interest at the mention of Radagast's name.

Elaure blinks and raises her head in surprise at the song and also the word

Legolas looks about to the crowd and says, "I would ask a representative from each of the three visiting elven homes to come forth."

Elaure scans the crowd again and then turns back to the prince to watch his intent.

Just as she reaches Aldarwen, with barely time for a whispered greeting, Elethin hears herself called, and she walks briskly toward Legolas, head high.

Elaure cuddles the shawl.

Radagast further retreats from the elven folk, observing their pomp and ceremony with keen eye.

Harmamir moves slowly towards the edge of the crowd, trying to find a better spot to watch from.

Calysaelyn comes to stand by Aldarwen, whispering a greeting to her friend and fellow Galadhrim. Her eyes are caught by Elethin's movement and her gaze follows her to Legolas and all her attention is now focused to hear his next words.

Iidlar looks around curiously, her violet eyes taking in everything. Biting her lip, she seems to be searching for someone in the crowd; finding none of her kind, and spotting Harmamir, she starts moving towards him.

Arhuine steps gracefully forward to stand a little apart from the other representitives.

Harmamir notices someone approaching him, as he recognises the fair elf as Iidlar he smiles oftly at her, then returns his gaze to the podium.

Khillaure shifts uncomfortably as the crowd presses in around her. She begins to work her way out of the throng of elves, heading toward a tree at the back of the crowd.

Legolas recieves Elethin first, as a representative from Lorien. "Sister-cousin," he says to her, "I give to you a tolkien of friendship, and of thanks, for your support of this ceremony." A servant hands Legolas something, and he then hands it to Elethin. It is a finely made hand-harp, highlighted with gold and mithril.

Standing beside Calysaelyn, Aldarwen motions to the newly Galadhrim arrived to join them.

Appearing along the path to the great stand of beaches, Lendalas strides towards the willowed area. His posture, tall and proud, his gaze sweeps across the elves gathered here in hopes that he was not late for the opening ceremonies. Laughing with relief, Lendalas smiles as he finds the activities not started yet and steps towards the crowd to mingle.

Elaure bites her lower lip at the beauty and charm of the gift.

Charmat slips in quietly, still cloaked and quite elusive as she traipses to a nearby group and tries to meld as she watches.

Elaure touches her little harm charm at her throat and smiles a little wistfully to herself in the shadow of the willow-lord.

Lindril's lips form an 'O' at the sight of the harp.

Elethin lowers her eyes demurely. "I accept this gift on behalf of the people of the Golden Wood. You have our thanks and our gratitude, Ernil." She then turns and holds the harp up for all to see, and stands back.

Aldarwen raises her eyes to stare at the instrument, her breath taken by the incredible beauty and the long time spent on making it.

Eyes widening slightly, Calysaelyn seems awestruck by the beauty of the gift held in Elethin's hands.

Elaure lays a hand softly on the ribs of the tree, so near she stands. Her face is lightendark in its shadow.

Legolas says unto Arhuine, "Greetings to you, Arhuine of the Grey Havens. You have travelled the furthest, and therefore we are doubly pleased to welcome you. A gift, to carry back to your people." He says with his characteristic, mischevious grin, "It is light, so you shall not have to lug it far upon your journey." Again, another servant brings forth a gift. It is a fluit, long, woodend, and polished with years of care. "This flute was made of the wood from one of the oldest trees in our Realm when it was felled in a storm."

Iidlar stands near her recently made friend Harmamir, or so it seems, by the somewhat uncomfortable way with which she stands, not knowing what to do with her hands. As she spots Morentis joining the crowd, her faces lightens, and she pokes Harmamir and points at the Ambassador of Imladrirs, and tries to call his attention with a raised hand.

The sky to the east grows ever lighter as dawn approaches, and the falling snow begins to pile slowly about the outer edges of the great willow. From the great stand of beeches to the west enters a figure, her steps making hardly a sound as she continues swiftly along the path. Seeing the great crowd beneath the willow, she pauses slightly, and takes a breath before joining her kin in amidst gathering. "Mae Govannen," she says quietly, a softness in her voice that surpasses most other.

Arhuine steps forwards and with a slight smile accepts the flute with a formal curtsy. "We of Mithlond are honored lord." She then steps back to her former place.

As Harmamir gets poked in his side, he arches a brow at Iidlar's behavior, but seeing that she's trying to contact another elf he lets it pass and turns back to silently watch the ceremony.

Finding a good spot near the edge of the crowd of elves where those of elves shorter in height stand beneath a bending willow, Lendalas turns his attention to the ceremonies placed before them. As the kin from Mithlond accept their finely crafted gift, a low whistle of appreciation escapes from his lips as Legolas announces what the musical instrument was made from.

Morentis approaches silently, his blue eyes gazing about the large gathering. Noticing the Arnethril Iidlar he smiles faintly and moves to stand by her side, whispering a greeting in her ear.

Elethin nods across to Arhuine, pausing to admire the flute in her hand. She cradles the harp in her arms and watches the Prince, a smile still wide on her face.

Lindril smiles across at Arhuine, touched by Legolas' gift and sharing in its appreciation.

Legolas looks out to the crowd, "Is there no representative from the Vales of Rivendell present?"

Arhuine looks down upon the instrument in her hands for several long moments. When she raises her eyes they are grave and fixed respectfully upon Legolas.

Sighing in relief as Morentis finally made himself present, Iidlar starts a smile, but is rudely interrupted by Haramir's poke, and turns at him with narrowed eyes. It's her turn to be interrupted, though, for Legolas seeks an Imladhrim, and the best suited one is the Ambassdor near her - and she turns to look at him again.

Kyriana gazes about the crowd slowly, as if expecting some hidden elf to suddenly appear and accept the gift as a representative of Imladris.

Elethin scans the crowd for familiar faces from her travels to Imladris.

Elaure peeks around the treetrunk at Radagast again, her shadowed green eyes wide.

Rilluin Watches in total ah of just how many has made it so far.

Legolas spots Morentis' gaze and motions to the podium by himself, "Come forward, friend, and recieve your people's welcome!"

Morentis raises his head quickly, then emerges from the crowd, clasping his hands behind his back. With fluid steps he moves toward the podium and Legolas. In a richly deep voice he says, "I am Morentis, Gwethron o Imladris, Ernil. Mae govannen." He bows to the Elf prince.

Rilluin looks around trying to capture all this at once.

Kyriana chuckles slightly as she notices Elaure peering around the great treetrunk at a certain (apparent) human. She blinks slightly as the man makes hardly any move at all, in exception of the frequent twitching of the brow.

Harmamir tries to hide a smile as his gaze is drawn back to Iidlar, standing by his side.

Legolas smiles and says, "Welcome Morentis, of the Valley. To you and your kin we give our thanks, for travelling the path you took is dangerous in any season of the year, and moreso in winter." He motions to the other two representatives up front, "To these I gave gifts of music, but I have heard tell that the elves of Rivendell prefer their voices. But I have also heard that they like wine! So, I give unto you and your people a cask of our finest wine that can be found in the King's cellar!"

Iidlar obviously does not notice Harmamir's eyes upon her, her own being now on the figures of Legolas and Morentis - and the wine.

Elaure draws her gaze into hiding at first when Radagast moves, but then grows braver. She studies him.

The dark eyes open and flash to regard Kyriana, then Elaure briefly, a quick glance to each. He then perks up as he hears of the gift to Imladris.

Elethin's eyebrow's rise in clear appreciation of this gift. She gifts Morentis with a lovely smile from her place, and then scans the crowd for their reaction.

Charmat slips silently through the crowd toward Radagast, moving to stand next to her traveling companion as she dips her head in a respectful, if muted greeting.

Kyriana, noticing again Elaure's silent admiration of this apparently young man, walks slowly over to her, whispering into her ear as she nears, "Found a new friend, have we?"

As the word 'wine' is mentioned, Harmamir turns his fully attention to Legolas and the representative from Imladhris.

Morentis returns Legolas' smile, though it grows at the mention of the wine. With another bow the Gwethron says, "That is indeed a fine gift. On behalf of Herdir Elrond and Imladris I give you my thanks. We were more than happy to make our journey here."

Elaure pulls back her head abruptly, almost but not quite losing her balance in the snow, to escape being caught staring.

Khillaure sighs softly as she leans her back against the trunk of a tree, her hands tucked deep within the folds of her cloak and her hood pulled down low. Surveying the scene before her, a smile forms on her lips.

As the gift is received, a hooded figure near the back quickly ducks and steps lightly to the willow tree, not a footprint left behind in the snow. A reaching hand, and a cascade of snow is loosed from the slender withes, though with the snowstorm raging they're all but lost.

Ducking slightly to get through the curtain of bare branches, Eilialhenel pushes back her hood as soon as she is sure her cheeks will be safe from the stinging flakes beyond. Reaching the inner halo of clear ground around the old tree's trunk, she straightens and peers with bright eyes out at the ceremony that continues. As she is on the other side of the tree from Elaure and the others, she apparently does not notice them.

The sun rises over the forest turning the dewdrops into pearls of light.

Radagast, now closer to the activities at hand acknowledges the Galadhrim, and returns his gaze to the distracted pair, lips curling into a smile beneath his bearded face.

Elaure blushes in the shadows.

Legolas says to the three gathered before him, "Take you these tolkens back to your home and see that they are used and beheald by all," and with a grin, "especially the wine! For these gifts are given as a reminder of our friendship, kinship, and mutal love of songs, for now and forever days!"

Elaure watches the prince steadily now.

Kyriana shakes her head slowly, "I do not blame you, mellon. He is indeed a fine specimen.. though perhaps we should stick to our own, and not meddle in the footsteps of Luthien."

Rilluin notices Khillaure in the crowd and trys to make his way towards her.

Lindril laughs merrily at the words of the Prince, and calls softly, "Hear, hear!"

Arhuine's low voice carries enough to be heard, "We shall discover new delights as the songs of this gift as played by our masters seek harmony with our other song. Again sir, honored."

Elaure looks at Kyriana, wrinkling her nose in confusion but says nothing.

Elethin nods her head respectfully, hefting the instrument held at her waist. "This gift will have a place of honor in our Wood, Ernil, as testimony to the generosity of the King of the Greenwood. And many a song will be sung 'round it in the golden eves of our city."

Charmat tilts on the ball of her foot, leaning toward Radagast, whispering faintly, "Have you see the Commander Rumil and Mithrandir? I fear I went to get some refreshments and missed their arrival, if they have yet to arrive."

Rilluin stands next to Khill. "How are you enjoying the show so far?"

Morentis nods, chuckling quietly as he takes up the wine. "I have no doubt we of the Valley will enjoy this gift, Ernil. Again, I thank you." He turns and, bearing the wine, walks over to stand next to his friend, Iidlar. He smiles to her, then turns a pleased, admiring gaze to the gift which he sets before him upon the ground.

Legolas nods his thanks to the three and says, "Thank you, all. You may return to your seats." He then continues to address the general assembly saying, "And so, I bring this opening to a close, and yet open up the door to new relationships, new friendships, and new fond joy. I beseach you in the coming feast to sit beside some one from another Elven Home, for it may be many a year before you have a chance to do so again." A brief pause and then, "Now come! The time for feasting and song has come!" At the call, servants bring out wine to replenish glasses. "Let there be drinking, song, and feasting!"

Iidlar raises an eyebrow at the arriving cask of wine, that is, at the arriving Morentis and the cask of wine, and then smiles back to him. She pokes Harmamir visibly now, and speaks softly to both him and the Ambassador, obviously introducing them to each other.

And as if on cue, the wind finally strengthens enough to push the storm clouds from the sky, the grey sheets quickly dissapating.

Arhuine turns and steps back to stand by her companion of the havens. She shows Lindril the flute.

Radagast +whispers to Charmat, "//... his ..., ... says quietly, "Neither have I seen, but I am sure they are about and you will find them before long. Unless, of course, Mithrandir has gone to explore, as has been his desire to do for some time, if I recall.""

Legolas, with that, steps down from the podium, and taking a glass, strides out to the gathering and takes a long draught to sooth his dry throat.

A pale, thin blue, the sky brightens slowly but steadily as the sun shyly creeps over the horizon to show her bright face to the wood.

Shaking his head, Radagast says quietly, "... ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... are ... ... ... ... ... ... before long. ..., ... ..., ... has ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... desire ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... recall."

Khillaure nods her head slowly, seeming to weigh the answer to Rill's question carefully, then says in a hushed voice, "It seems as if everyone is enjoying themselves. And I suppose I am, too."

Lindril reaches out a reverent hand, touching the flute with quiet awe for only a moment. She says nothing, but her eyes speak eloquently in their own right as she gazes on the finely crafted instrument.

Charmat nods to Radagast, smiling faintly before replying in soft silken tones, "I ... ... shall ... speak to ... ... at ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... ... goings." With a gentle touch to his elbow, the maiden turns and drifts through the crowd, leaving toward west.

Elethin dances to the edge of the podium, whirling as if gravity had no claim on her, and she leaps down, lands with a florish, and slips through the crowd unimpeded to her knot of kindred.

Harmamir smiles softly as he's being introduced to Morentis, he bows slightly, "A pleasure meeting you, mellon." He nods to the kask of wine, chuckling, "Guard it well."

Radagast nods absently and departs as Charmat does, seeking out bread and wine for himself.

Elaure slips out from under the willow and then between the bare fronds that fall like tears from the willows top. Between teardrops, passing almost unmoving.

Seeing that the speechmaking is done for now, Lendalas dusts off the palms of his hands and meanders towards the feasting tables and assorted wine glasses. Reaching there, he jostles himself near the food and plucks up several delacate morsals of various kind and plops them on a plate.

Aldarwen approaches Elethin, to admire the harp she has been given and stares at it silently.

Rilluin looks at Khill. "Something seems to bothering you. May I ask you what?"

Kyriana is about to say something, but as she turns back to her elven companion, she shuts her mouth quickly, realizing she is not there. Arching an eyebrow, the young elf gazes once again around her surroundings, hoping to find more of her Woodland kin.

A delighted laugh escapes Eilialhenel's lips as she ducks out into the crowd, white-dusted, grey-cloaked and over all tinged rosy with the early-morning light.

Lindril turns toward the long tables, searching out a seat among the crowd of elvenfolk also making their way toward the array of food.

Elethin cradles the harp as if it were a newborn babe, resting its scroll on her bosom. "It is so lovely, mellon! Taelyn will be thrilled to see it. O! Would she were here!"

As the conversations surge about him, Morentis turns fully toward Iidlar and her new companion. He gives the healer a warm smile and says, "How do you fare, mellon?" And with a curious glance to Harmamir he adds, "Won't you introduce me?"

Accosting a serving person, Radagast secures a goblet of wine and then manages to get a small, delicate loaf before returning to his former position, though now he sits upon the ground and partakes of his wine and bread.

Elaure goes to the table and begins to see to the distribution of food quietly. She fills trays and carries them to adult guests as they stand waiting.

Khillaure shakes her head, a smile spreading across her face, along with a faint blush, "It is nothing that we should be worrying about on such a night as tonight. Come, let's go get something to drink." She takes Rilluin's arm and begins to lead him toward the tables.

Aldarwen nods to Elethin and adds, "I can't wait to hear it play... I wonder where the Loremaster might be." She looks around, as if she was to appear at a moment or other.

Lindril's gaze meets Kyriana's across the gathering almost by accident, but the Mithlondhrim smiles across at the Ndaed with a sense solidarity, one elf to another in the spirit of the occasion.

Smiling, Morentis bows. "Mae govannen, Harmamir."

Rilluin follows Khill's lead to the table pondering the statement that was made by her.

With a slight frown, Lendalas appologizes to an elf he accidently nudges in the packed area. Stiffly, he backs himself away from the table and searches for a good spot away from the crowd. This way, and that, the Herald moves. And with a sigh, he resigns himself to eating amongst the press beneath the willow tree he originally stood under.

Elaure bring Elethin a tray of food and a welcome, nearly without sound.

Eilialhenel reaches up on tip-toe to look over elves at the tables, at length falling back down on her heels and patiently waiting as she slowly makes her way to the food

Leaving her two companions behind, Iidlar darts towards the food and the wine, humming softly to herself as she makes her way amongst the gathering.

Harmamir nods, "Mae Govannen and the pleaseure is all mine, Ambassador. I hope you will enjoy your stay here and if you need anything, I will be at your service."

Elethin looks around as well. "Perhaps she was detained." Shrugging, she turns and grins to Aldarwen. "Are you as hungry as I am? I- oh, Elaure!" she exclaims as she turns and nearly runs into the younger elf. "You read my mind!" Laughing, she sets the harp down gently and takes a generous portion from the proffered tray.

Radagast sips the wine, and slowly consumes the loaf, some crumbs gathering in his lap and even a few linger in his beard.

A quickly mumbled apology and a reach later, Eilialhenel retreats, two small muffins in hand.

Elaure looks up to Elethin, "No, milady. Please take the whole tray. I am little and I can slip between folk more easily."

Hearing Elaure's name exclaimed, Eilailhenel makes her way to the young elf, a small smile growing on her face.

Morentis nods to the guard. "I thank you, Harmamir. That is most appreciated." He quirks a smile at Iidlar. "Now I must store away this little treasure," he says, gesturing toward the cask. "Namarie to you both." With that he picks up the cask and moves away.

Radagast stands, brushing the white specks from his robes, and looks about, before quietly slipping from the gathering and back towards the elven-home-proper.

Brehannas stands up and looks around and begins to work the crowd. He has a patient charming smile on his face. He looks as if he is very at ease working the crowd.

Aldarwen nods to Elethin and adds, "Indeed I am, I'll take some wine and cheese". Picking it quickly up from the tray, she smiles and turns to look at the harp again.

Kyriana gathers about the food-filled table, and takes a buttered muffin, as well as a goblet of good wine. Another moment she spends peering about and, seeing Brehannas, makes her way over to where he is headed. "Mae govannen," she says softly, and smiles briefly. "You do not seem hindered by the crowd, mellon. How is it so?"

Elaure 's eye is caught by Eilialhenel. She grins.

Elethin takes the tray with a tickled, "Thank you!" She balances it on one hand to place her other affectionately on Elaure's shoulder. "You are too kind."

Harmamir turns around, looking for someone else he knows after suddenly having been left by alone by Iidlar and Moristo. He slowly starts to make his way towards the table.

"Elaure?" Eilialhenel says softly, her voice near lost beneath the burble of the Taruduin and the sound of the crowd. A muffin is in her outstretched hand./

Khillaure walks over to one of the tables and takes two goblets of wine, handing one to Rilluin. She turns and begins to edge her way away from the tables, narrowly avoiding more than a few collisions along the way.

Elaure grins too up at Elethin. "no, I'm not. I am a brat."

Brehannas looks up at Kryiana with a smile and chuckles slightly. "ahh well it comes naturally I guess...I suppose it is why I hold the position I do."

Rilluin takes the goblets of wine from Khill."Than you, mellon."

Aldarwen giggles as she hears Elaure and then says, "You really don't seem to be anything like that, mellon". She drinks from her glass of wine and keeps smiling.

Harmamir stretches towards a table and picks up a apple which he takes a big bite of. Feeling slightly lost, he starts to move away from the tables.

Rilluin still following Khill's lead away from the table from witch they arrived.

Elethin hands a sweet back down from the tray to Elaure. "As you will, wood-sprite. Come, take it! I insist!" Her grey eyes gleam with glee.

Elaure hears her name and turns expectantly. The muffin gives off a nice scent of cinnamon. She licks her lips. Then she turns to Aldarwen. "It is becaue you do not know me. As the river does not seem to move, nor the stars, but they do, all the time."

Elaure gestures to eilial. "Ask her."

Lendalas snacks quietly as his eyes steadyly watch the movements of the elves about him, apparently searching for anyone he knows amongst the crowd. With a cough, the taller Elethin comes in to his view, as well as Aldarwen. Rising to his feet, he moves in their direction.

Elaure grins and takes the proffered sweet, it being nearer than the muffin. She pops it in lightly.

Aldarwen shrugs and stays silent.

Golden-summer-berry-honey-sweet and studded with dark red cranberries, the muffin disappears as Elaure takes it. "Ask me what, dear? "Eilailhenel asks.

Elaure says, "If I am a brat. This lady says not. and I protest. To you to resolve the issue."

Khillaure turns her head to speak to Rilluin, taking her eyes off where she is going for but a moment, but, alas, it is the wrong moment. Khillaure crashes into the unsuspecting Harmamir, spilling wine all over him and herself.

Elaure now nibbles at the muffin.

Brehannas turns and watches the young elf maiden nibbling the muffin and grins slight then turns back to kyriana smiling. "So are you to participate in any of the events sceduled for this years events?"

Rilluin asks both Khill and Haramir if they are both okay.

Elaure cannot help herself from a quiet 'yum' as she makes her way slowly thru the muffin.

Harmamir takes a step back in slight confusion, before his mind grips the situation. He looks surprised at Khillaure, but then he laughs softly, "Mellon.. you lost all your wine! And it seems I got it."

"Will a nymph answer for a sprite?" answers the tall Galadhrim as she gives Eilialhenel a conspiratorial look. "Elethin was once a 'brat' as well, you know." She leans down, golden hair spilling over her shoulders and hanging past her knees. "Some say that I still am."

"A brat," Eilialhenel muses seriously, eyes skywards and free hand stroking her chin gently. "I..." she begins, "I...don't know. Do you *want* to be a brat?"

Rilluin laughs.

Harmamir looks on his drenched tunic, shaking his head as he continues to laughing, "I better get this changed before everyone tears my tonic away."

Elaure considers. Then she answers solemnly, "No. I want to be a songbird."

Reaching the small group that includes some of his Galadhrim, Lendalas stops next to Aldarwen and murmers a soft, "Mae govannen." Tilting, his head, he raises an inquiring eyebrow towards Elaure and the leaning Elethin. Keeping quiet, he waits to see what the discussion could be about.

Shaking wine from her cloak, and wiping unsuccesfully at a red river that has worked its way across her cheek, Khillaure begins to giggle at the sight she must present! "Aye, mellon. Myself included!"

Elaure looks up hopefully. "I even have a dress. Do you like it?"

Elaure unwraps the wool shawl a little so that the dress may be seen.

Rilluin makes his way back to the table to fetch Khillaure a new goblet of wine.

Elaure sighs and looks up at the willow. "Can't climb trees in this tho."

Aldarwen smiles toward Lendalas and greets back, "Mae Govannen, this young maiden insists on calling herself a brat", she says pointing with her head toward Elaure, "What do you think?"

Harmamir's eyes looks up from his tunic to meet Khillaure's, he holds them there just a few moments before he inspects her clothes, "Mellon, it seems that your cloak covered you well. And do not fear about my tunic, I know how to get this wine off it in a few minutes."

Rilluin returns from the table goblet in hand. "Here you go mellon to replace the one that was spilt."

Elethin steps back to admire the dress, eyes travelling down, then back up to the child's eyes, and back to the pendant. "It becomes you well, Elaure. Do you like mine?" She stands, balancing the tray of food on one hand again as she flares the skirt of her dress out with the other and turning slowly. She nods to Lendalas as her turn brings him into her sight.

Unable to keep her face serious any longer, like river-currents finally bursting past an insolent obstruction a smile grows wide on Eilialhenel's face. "Little lindaew! In a dress! Well it seems you are a songbird indeed, and it is hardly fitting that a songbird be a brat as well, I deem, so I shall have to side with this golden-haired lady and declare that no, mellon, you are not a brat!"

As Rilluin approaches and offers the new goblet, Khillaure smiles at him, "I do hope that you will excuse me. I really should go and change, or else the wine is going to freeze in my hair!"

Brehannas takes leave from Kyriana seeing that she has turned her attention else where. He wanders through the crowd. He takes a cup of juice from one of the various coutiers running around. He winks at a few maidens and nods at a few dignataries from Rivendell and heads towards the food table.

Rilluin says, "I do uderstand and will see you after you change?'"

Elaure smiles a little, one side of her mouth curling up in disbleelief.

Harmamir smiles at Khillaure's words, "And I must change this tunic to another.." he adds mumbling, "if I can find one of them."

Lendalas' eyes gleam as he turns his gaze towards Elaure in an appraising mannor. Allowing the edge of his lips to turn upwards in a smile, he says, "A brat? I am unsure... I suppose I must ask, what kind of brat?"

Elaure says half-heartedly, "Thank you." clearly she thinks otherwise.

Harmamir takes a final look at the accident on both himself and on Khillaure, he chuckles softly and starts to walk towards the beeches.

Elaure turns to Lendalas and and shrugs a little. "Are there different kinds?"

Eilialhenel slips one leg behind her as she kneels down in the snow, casting a long grey shadow before her. "If it would make you feel better?" she asks Elaure, proffering the other muffin she carries.

Khillaure looks at her unfortunate victim, "I shall still have to rinse my hair, so I hope you don't mind if I accompany you back to the flets? I might as well change while I am at it." She turns to Rilluin, the smile never leaving her lips, "I certainly hope that I will see you! Although with as many people as are gathered here tonight, that might prove more difficult than usual!"

Elethin laughs and half turns to Lendalas, holding a tray full of food out to him. "Well met, Herald! Help yourself! This would-be brat was kind enough to bring this for me, protest as much as she may!" She looks down at Elaure. "I will say that you are not a brat until you do climb trees in a dress, and come back to your parents grinning like a fiend in the remains!"

Elaure shakes her head. "No, thank you, because if I take that you wollnot have any."

Rilluin says, "True as that may be I'm sure that our paths will cross again, soon."

Harmamir stops for a moment, letting Khillaure walk up next to him,and the two of them departures towards the beeches.

Lendalas blinks, his eyebrows raising as if taken aback by the question of Elaure. With a quick glance to the elven maids about him, he slowly nods his head and replies, "Aye... of course. There are several types, as far as I've seen. Are you a Brat that gets in to trouble but does not mean it? Are you a brat that has no manners? Are you a brat that does not do as everyone else? How so are ye a brat?"