Mettarë Feast

Where now are the horse and rider? In here, probably.
Knight of The Mark
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S
Once again, as begun by the Lord Scilius and Lady Bereth many years past, the Freablod manor has been opened to the people of Rohan for Mettarë. It has been decorated inside and out and an elaborate feast has been prepared for those attending. The path leading to the grand house is lined with lanterns and more are hung in trees, on the gates, doors, and throughout the courtyard, making the snow glitter brilliantly. Horses are taken by smartly dressed grooms, to be fed and watered in the stable while their owners enjoy themselves. Inside, footmen gather cloaks, hats and gloves and direct guests to the ballroom where the festivities will take place.

The ballroom is the center of the festivities, and is decorated accordingly. Large pine trees line the hall decorated with cranberry and popcorn garland, finely-blown glass balls, delicately carved wooden figures and cones of candy and nuts. Pine boughs interwoven with red ribbon are wrapped around pillars and hung around the walls, and all is lit with candles and torches placed carefully to avoid any fires. Chairs and tables are arranged around the room for eating and socializing, and a group of musicians plays in a hidden corner near an open area set aside for dancing, the strains of an elegant piece floating through the hall. Along one wall sits tables straining under the weight of all the food, with the traditional Yule Roast Boar siting prominently in the middle.

This is the Mettarë feast, the gathering of the Rohirrim and their allies, to celebrate life in the dark of winter, the end of the year and beginning of a new, of family, friends and joy.

MENU

Yule Roast Boar
Roasted Turkey
Apple stuffed Pheasant
Mincemeat Pie

Roasted Herb Potatoes
Mashed Potatoes with Turkey Gravy

Seasoned Root Vegetables
Maple Glazed Carrots
Cranberry Sauce

Buttery Rolls
Stuffing with Apple and Cranberry

Seasonal Cookies
Fruit, date and Fig loaf with Whiskey sauce
Sugared Seasonal Fruit
Apple, fig, date, pear and raisin tarts

Drinks
Oromë’s Bletsung
this red wine is truly a blessing, a real nectar of the Gods

Glavrol
a fine and delicious white wine that won’t make you drunk, but will cause you to babble nonsense should you drink too much

Hwitsceo
A fluffy concoction of clear filtered ale mixed with just a touch of white clover honey topped with mounds of sweetened whipped cream

Green Rider’s Ale
A good strong Rohirric ale. Pale ale, smooth and mild but has an unexpected kick at the bottom of the mug.

Stout Halbert
a delicious dark ale with a strong, hoppy taste

Cranberry juice
Tea in various flavours
Peppermint Hot Chocolate


Rules
~ All regular plaza rules apply
~ EVERYONE is welcome, regardless of race. Minions, please refrain from killing/maiming/eating anyone just for this evening please.
~ Dress is formal, this is a grand feast after all!
~ Feel free to hand out your diegolowine gift whenever you want, if you are participating in it.
~ Have fun and HAPPY METTARE!

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Pele

Considerable time had passed since Pele had visited Rohan last time, and had rather unpleasant experiences; while caution could still be felt as she somewhat reluctantly gave up her horse to a stablehand after dismounting, she hoped that this time would be different. Satisfied to find that no one would be attacking her, she spent a few moments standing and enjoying the lanterns and decorations in the courtyard and on the building. Taking a few more breaths of the crisp air, she stepped in through the door.

Pele graciously allowed her winter cloak to be taken to reveal the festive clothes she had chosen for the occasion. Her usual uniform or healer's attire had been exchanged for a midnight blue long dress with a bit of a slit in the side of its skirt to allow for a more comfortable movement. The dress itself was rather unadorned, a fine silver belt serving as an accent. Instead of the leather boots she wore shoes on a slight heel that in colour matched her belt. Her hair was no longer braided, but rather gathered up and secured with a pin that sparkled in the light.

Regardless of how well she might look in a dress, Pele felt somewhat awkward: it had been many years since she had put on a dress like this, and many years since she had attended a ball. Holding on to the gift she had brought, she hesitated not too far from the doorway, what she should do - one couldn't just step in the door and head straight for the tables with food, even if that would provide a perfect way to look busy, sort of...
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Yoshiyo

Oh boy! Yoshiyo was excited. She was always excited of course; every day was a day to learn and discover all sorts of new and interesting things. But today was a special day to be excited. For nearly two hundred years the elleth had wanted to observe the Mettarë festivals in Rohan but had only now gotten the chance to do it. Her poor horse was heavily laden with writing and art supplies, digging tools and anthropological apparatuses, and a at least a dozen changes of clothes. On second thought, maybe it would have been smarter to bring two horses. She laughed and patted the poor beast’s neck. “There’s a good lad. I’ll make sure you get a double helping of apples and sugar cubes. I’ve never met a Rohir but they are famous for their horse husbandry.” The horse whinnied and snorted. “Well fine then!” She laughed.

Edoras was not very hard to navigate. While she was not old enough to have explored the caverns of Nargothrond or the labyrinthine streets of Gondolin, she was well acquainted with the twists and turns of Lindon and Imladris. Edoras was smaller than she had imagined but given everything she had already read about the country it should not have surprised her. She had also expected the place to smell like a hundred thousand horses but even that was an exaggeration. She leapt off her horse, relinquished him into care of a dirty blonde stablehand and was immediately off to explore with some parchment and a set of charcoal pencils. She knew there was a feast to be had, and that she was meant to bring a gift (she’d forgotten to unpack it when she arrived at the inn so it was probably still attached to her horse’s saddle) but right now she had too much exciting work to do. She spent hours and hours drawing the architecture she found, wandering hinter and thither and over yonder and back around until she was certain she’d mapped out the entire city. She was giddy with excitement. She couldn’t wait to tell her cousin what she found! He would be so jealous. Well, he would be if he stopped dancing and eating all the time and sat down and listened to her stories, but that was neither here nor there.

“Oh dear!” she had begun to daydream about leading a team of elves into the nearby settlements and beginning inquiries about genealogical records and town histories when she realized the feast was about to start! “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” She hurried off (well not hurried, she found another building that looked absolutely fascinating, began to draw in then remembered she had places to be) and changed at the inn for the feast. Yoshiyo was not a fan of dressing up. Dresses were simply not practical in her line of work and donning something with a hundred layers of fluff and lace and silk was anathema to her. She much preferred a good, strong set of breeches and boots. She knew though, that she would not be able to get away with that tonight. Also, she didn’t want to dress in such an ostentatious manner that she stood out like a rose among daffodils. Elven balls had a tendency to be very, very elegant, on a level that bordered absurd. Hopefully a simply green and red cotton dress would do the trick tonight. That was the only fancy thing Yoshiyo had brought with her!

The elleth gawked and beamed at all the rustic decorations. “Drat!” she muttered to herself, “should have at least brought something to write with!” Of course that was an ridiculous thought, was she just going to sit in a corner and write all evening? How was she going to conduct interviews? How was she really going to observe if she shoved herself in a corner? How was she going to eat and dance? She wasn’t as bad as her cousin, but she did like to dance every once in a while, and sampling the local cornucopia was a must. She was just going to have to rely on her eidetic gustatory memory to get her through the night so she could write everything down. “I’m going to need some candles; did I bring candles? I did, I’m certain I did. Did I?”

Armed with her exquisitely wrapped gift, Yoshiyo floated into the main ballroom. The lights were fantastic, so many colors and hues! She giggled then coughed in embarrassment. No one seen or heard that right? Oh that would be the worst! First impressions were very important. No one was here yet and Yoshiyo wondered about in the entry. Oh wait! There is someone here!

“Hi!” she sidled up to the woman, only realizing after she had greeted her that maybe this woman wanted to be alone or that she was being far too loud in an empty room. Oh well, nothing for it now. “I’m Yoshiyo. I’m… here for the feast? I saw all the lights and decorations and assumed this was place. I even brought a gift.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Pele

She was just calmly standing around and even enjoyed the festive atmosphere, though it was still without that many occupants to fill the room with the conversations and merriment. A sudden burst of giggles caused Pele to look in the direction of the sound.

"Hello," she responded just as informally when Yoshiyo - who had apparently been the one giggling - approached her. "I am quite confident this is the place for the feast," Pele said, a smile playing on her lips as she observed the newcomer. "I assume we have arrived a bit early, though I'm sure the others will join us sooner or later."

The Gondorian tried not to stare too much, as she made an attempt to place the woman within the boundaries of her knowledge. The name sounded absolutely foreign, and it was quite sure that Yoshiyo was neither a Rohir, nor a Gondorian. An Elf? But then again the dress seemed perhaps not what she imagined Elves wearing, though it was still nice.

"My name's Pele," she then said by the way of introductions. "I came from Minas Tirith to..." she hesitated a while as she tried to put into words her expectations. "Well... hoping for a bit of light-hearted fun and festivities."
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Riding up to Freablod manor, Shivased couldn't help but shiver in excitement, and could feel the same radiating off her little brother beside her. It had been a few years since they had attended the feast. Between Cavalry duties, running her estate, her shop, and family matters in Gondor, she hadn't been able to find time. Mettarë had been spent quietly at home, on Cavalry patrol somewhere in the Mark, or the one awful year in Gondor with their mother. That had been the worst, by far. Their grandparents had been wonderful, as usual, but her mother was a bitter, mean viper, and though she was accustomed to them, the Gondorian traditions just weren't the same as in the Mark. It felt good to be attending this year.

Coming to a stop in the courtyard she allowed Jacen to help her down rather than do it herself and risk tearing her skirt on the stirrup like last time she'd attended. After that time she'd sworn from then on she'd wear her Cavalry dress uniform, but really it had been a hollow threat. Though she did have her insignia pinned to her chest; she hadn't been able to resist. The horses were handed off to grooms and she led the way inside where their cloaks were taken by footmen. She handed all over gratefully and adjusted the skirts of her emerald green gown. It was one of her favourites, with sleeves that were tight to the elbow before flaring into a small ruffled bell, a square neckline and simple gold and silver embroidery at the neck, hem and cuffs. She had accented it with earrings and a necklace of emeralds, her only elegant pieces of jewellery, and done her red hair with the matching emerald pins.

Once she was sure she was presentable after the long ride she led the way into the great hall, pausing in the doorway to take in the sight. It was spectacular and each year took her breath away. Jacen immediately went to the tables laden with food, giving her a wave goodbye and she knew she wouldn't see him much the rest of the feast. She laughed and followed briefly, long enough to select a mug of hwitsceo, then looked around the room.

It looked like they were amongst the first to arrive. Not many guests moved around the hall yet, but she knew more would arrive soon. She did spot a face she knew, and headed over to where Pele stood with another person (Yoshiyo). Westu Pele hal! she greeted the Gondorian warmly. It's good to see you in Rohan, and not while on duty! Their interactions had mostly been military related, between the Cavalry and Rangers, so it was good to interact in a more relaxed environment for a change. Giving a smile to the other woman she added Westu hal. Welcome to Rohan. I'm Shivased, First Marshal of the Cavalry.

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Phiqo

This was the first Mettarë in years that Phiqo would attend the festivities at the Freablod manor. The last few years, after her parents died, it hadn't seemed right so she had been content to spend Mettarë alone. This year was the first time she looked forward to visiting the Freablod manor for a night of fun and good company. The rohir lass had even bought a new dark green dress for the occation with light green decorations around the neckline, the arms and the waist. Walking the lit path towards the grand house and as she approached the door Phiqo lowered the scarf she had pulled up over her nose and cheeks before leaving her home for protection from the cold outside.

Stepping inside and pushing back the hood before removing her cloak and handed it to one of the footmen along with her scarf and mittens. Taking a few breaths to try to tamp down her excitement at finally being back here again and when she felt ready she entered the ballroom. Looking around the room she was glad that she wasn't he first one to arrive but before going to say hello she planned to get something to drink. Approaching the drinks she was about to grab a mug of tea when her eyes fell on the peppermint hot chocolate and chose a mug of that instead.

"Westu Hal," Phiqo smiled as she approached the group (Pele, Yoshiyo and Shivased) holding the mug in both her hands to let the warmth of the hot drink warm her still cold hands. "My name is Phiqo," introducing herself she took a sip of her drink.

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Lailyn (she/her)
Mettarë was here at last. A night for feasting and merriment, for forgetting all troubling events of the past year in the Mark and elsewhere, to look ahead to a brighter one and enjoy the company of friends and foreigners alike. Lailyn had looked forward to this evening with almost child-like anticipation. It was her favourite time of year at home and she intended (and needed) to enjoy a little lighthearted festivity.

The last Mettarë feast she attended at Freablod Manor must have seen her a mere twenty-something, still enlisted in the Cavalry, bright-eyed and eager. Despite the years that passed, Freablod Manor somehow looked just the same as she remembered. She was assailed by the strange sense of being somewhere familiar yet feeling a bit like a stranger as she dismounted and allowed Fairmane to be led to the stables. The feeling faded as quickly as it came when she entered the ballroom in all its splendour. Warmth and brightness washed over her. She relaxed, shrugged off her cloak and hastened onward.

In an effort to save money, she wore an old gown but had it embellished and smartened up. The fine-spun wool was dyed a deep shade of plum with loose skirts that allowed her to ride here. The modest round-necked bodice was swathed with intricately embroidered gold stitches that shone like twinkling stars in the night sky. No jewelry adorned her neck or wrists and her face was framed with delicate braids over loose waves of flaxen hair. In her hands, she clutched her diegolowine gift; it was wrapped in thick parchment and tied with a bright red ribbon.

The ballroom had everything - plenty of food and drink, room for dancing and tables for all the guests she hoped would arrive. One brave soul was already helping himself to food (Jacen) and a small group had gathered. Spying a face that pleasantly surprised her, Lailyn approached, gift still in hand.

“Good evening and happy Mettarë!” She greeted them (Pele, Yoshiyo, Shivased, Phiqo) with a cheerful smile. “Pele, I am so glad to see you again! You are doing well, I hope?” She asked, hoping to avoid mentioning the unfortunate incident the first time she met Pele in the streets of the Riddermarket. It was good to see her looking healthy and joining the festivities.

Shivased, that gown suits you nicely, if you don’t mind my saying so.” She had always rather enjoyed seeing the Marshals out of their uniforms and in their finery and the First Marshal was no exception. “I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Forgive me, I don’t want to be rude,” she told Yoshiyo and Phiqo, neither of whom she recognised though she reckoned the latter was Rohirrim through and through and she was curious where Yoshiyo might have travelled from. “I’m Lailyn. It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve not gone for a drink yet...Is there anything you’d recommend?” She asked the group, surveying the variety on display in their hands.

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Fuin came into the festively decorated manor with a smile upon her face, the fantastic smelling food could be smelled well from outside and she was always one for food. She pushed her green hoods cloak back she'd made sure the wear nice clothing, normally she knew women donned dresses of some sort for these events, however she was not one to wear a dress, well that wasn't entirely true but nobody needed to know that. Instead of a dress, or even her nice standard breeches and tunic, she wore a fine set of grey leggings and over them a pale silver tunic the weave patterned with delicate swirls, clasped at the throat with a silver clasps decorated in leaves and flowers and embroidered with white thread and golden thread at the hems and cuffs and neck. Her hair pulled back, generally looking far more masculine than the lovely ladies in their dresses so far. She'd left her weaponry in the inn that she was staying in, knowing full well that daggers and bows were not needed here.

She had a small parcel wrapped in fabric with a bow, a gift for one of the other attendees of this fantastic feast. She pulled her cloak off and handing it up keeping the small parcel on her as there was no place really to put it down and there was so much to do, dancing and eating and drinking and talking so she tied the small parcel off on her belt so that it could sit there until she was ready to reveal who it was for. She saw that there were mostly Rohirrim here and a Gondorian and an elf, she gave a wave and went and fetched herself a glass of the red wine that was available and sipped at it before heading to the small group that had gathered.

"Westu hal, I am Fuin; Guildmaster of the Tingdain of Imladris." She said with a smile, feeling that being a guild master of a place where wearing a dress could be very dangerous with the hot coals and the fires would be dangerous and might explain her complete aversion to dresses. "You all (Pele Yoshiyo, Shivased, Phiqo, Lailyn) look quite lovely." She said with a smile, caught Lailyn's name and that she had not gone for a drink yet as she had been fetching a drink and heading towards the small troop of women "I would suggest the red wine, it's quite lovely, if wines are your thing. "

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Edda and Æric

Initially he had decided he was not going to go. Balls and large parties were not his "thing". He was far too introverted to be comfortable attending such feasts and this one had been no exception. That was until Caddick unwittingly let it spill that he and his sister were going and doing it in front of Edda. Caddick had not seen the feverished signals to be quiet, to stop talking and had exitedly shared with Edda how awesome it was going to be, the food, the hall, the decorations. One look at the shine in Edda's eyes as she listened to the older boy and he knew he was going.

And sure enough, here they were. He had borrowed a cart to ride up here, watching as a man took it from him to park it somewhere out of sight. "Ooooooh Papa!" The squealed exclamation only half had him wincing, one eye blinking furiously as he turned his gaze back towards the massive building. Swallowing hard, he nervously swiped a lock of his sandy hair away from his face. "Yeah.. beautiful, isn't it?" He asked with more conviction than he felt. Edda was practically bouncing next to him as she eagerly pointed out the various beautiful lanterns that lit the path to the building.

"Don't drop the present now, you hear?" He said as he gave her a smile.

"I won't Papa!" She said eagerly, pulling on his hand to get him to move. "Come on Papa! Let's go!" She bounced a few more times before he found the courage to step forward, nervous fingers pulling at his freshly washed and pressed shirt. As they headed up the lit path, he looked down at his beautiful daughter, delighting in how the lights made her shine even more. She had been given a dark green dress by Caddick's mother and wore a matching dark green bow in the tumble of red curls. His heart twinged, barely able to contain the love he felt for her.

As they reached the entrance, both paused and openly gawked as they saw how beautifully the hall had been decorated. Again Æric regretted having come, feeling completely out of place in a place so beautiful. But before he could tear Edda from the view and take her home under some pretense of illness, she let out a shriek and let go of his hand and bolted inside.

"Edda!" He called out after her, but she kept running, making a beeline towards the women there. Eyes darting across the group, he realised why Edda had run off, recognising Lailyn among them. He was far enough to only hear the exitement in Edda's voice as she reached Lailyn, though could not hear what was said as he hurried over.

"Miss Lailyn!! You look beautiful! I got a new dress! It's green!" Holding the present in her arms tightly, she twirled to show the skirt. "Caddick's mum gave it to me! I have a present! It's for Erniel, though we don't even know who Erniel is!" Her babbling seemed to never end as she reached out to grab Lailyn's hand.

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Pele

She and Yoshiyo were the only inhabitants of the hall only for a brief moment; Shivased arrived next, with Jacen. "Great to see you as well, Shivased!" Pele responded to the woman's greeting when she joined them. "Suppose even military folk need to relax once in a while, right?" Yet, the matter of relaxation was still rather difficult for Pele, as she still felt rather guilty when allowing herself to have time to breathe and not be buried under so many duties.

"Well met, Phiqo," she said to the next lady joining them. "My name is Pele, and I've escaped Gondor for a bit of vacation here in Rohan."

It seemed that a small crowd was beginning to form, as Lailyn joined them as well. Pele felt both slightly uncomfortable with the increasing numbers of guests and at the same time rather enjoyed it. "Lailyn!" she greeted the other woman gladly. "Ah yes, I've been doing quite well, and fully intend to enjoy the visit this time." When Lailyn asked about a drink, the Gondorian realised that she was rather thirsty as well, though she had been too embarrassed to head straight for the tables upon arrival.

"Red wine... Or maybe something else would be good," she noted, mostly to herself. "Well met, Fuin! I am Pele," she then introduced herself to Fuin.

What their little group missed was a little girl, apparently, as one almost came flying into their midst to show off her dress and reach for Lailyn's hand. "That is a lovely dress indeed!" Pele commented to Edda, restrained laughter dancing in her blue eyes at the high levels of endless excitement the girl expressed. A man then came towards them, and Pele assumed that he was the girl's father. "Erniel, you say?..." she wondered out loud about the present.
Last edited by Pele Alarion on Mon Dec 28, 2020 12:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Erniel

“Look, Ottor!” Erniel gestured toward the bright lights lining the path to the manor house ahead of them. The two friends had journeyed in a meandering fashion to arrive here for the feast. “Oh, it’s pretty!” A delighted grin spread over the ellon’s face. As they rode toward the house, the lanterns illuminated the smile he wore beneath the cloak and hood of deep blue, which itself was lined with grey fur. “My, oh my! I didn’t know that Rohirrim decorated so splendidly!”

He dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to a groom who stood in wait. “Ah, of course the riders would be prepared for arrivals on horseback!” he thought appreciatively. Before the lad could lead his horse away, he held up a gloved hand and said, “Just a moment!” From within a saddlebag, he retrieved a small, rectangular parcel. It was wrapped in beautiful charcoal grey paper which had been inked by expert calligraphers with silver shapes of the season: snowflakes, the bright winter moon, stars flaring in the night sky. He also carefully removed a small bouquet of snowdrops from an exterior pocket of the bag; he'd placed them there earlier with the top of the bouquet sticking out so as not to crush their petals. Gift tucked under one arm and flowers clasped in his hand, he bounded off to inspect a nearby tree and its lanterns, leaving the path behind for the moment.

“What a pretty pine you are!” he said to the tree. “You look like you’ve had quite a nice, long life. And now you are helping us see by holding this lantern!” He reached up to turn a lantern about in his hand: the warm glow of candlelight made Erniel feel both warmed and at home. “Ottor!” he cried, “Just look at these lanterns! I want one like this to light my home.”

As quickly as he’d approached the tree, he gave it a little bow and hurried toward the manor, though not without a glance or two at the snow sparkling in the light of the lanterns and the stars. It had been so long since he’d been able to play in the snow! Perhaps he’d find a way to entice new friends into the snow for a romp and a snowball fight later.

Once inside, he removed his cloak and passed it to an attendant, revealing a midnight blue jacket embroidered with silver (not unlike the paper wrapping his gift), fine grey pants, and well-kept black boots. Erniel loved blue: It was the color of the sky and the sea, and it came in so many, many shades. He loved that there was a shade to match any given emotion and that he could see his feelings reflected back at him in nature if he simply looked hard enough.

“Wow,” he whispered, inhaling all the scents of the hall: more pines lined the room, the warm smoke of the fires roaring in hearths, and (perhaps most exciting of all) meat, herbs, spices - all the smells of a grand feast. He approached a little group of people who had already gathered and, in some cases, helped themselves to drinks. “Ooooh,” he sighed, looking over the selection curiously. What drinks would the riders provide? Perhaps he’d try something new, at least to start. He selected a mug of some stuff called hwitsceo and took a sip. It was sweet! “Oh, Ottor, come over here and try this!” he said, fully unaware of the wispy mustache of whipped cream which had appeared on his upper lip. “Yum!”

He hovered a bit awkwardly on the edge of the group before blurting out, “Hi! I’m Erniel! It’s nice to meet you all!” He recovered from this somewhat abrupt introduction with a smile, a wave, and another sip of his hwitsceo.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

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Yoshiyo

It seemed to the young (relatively at least) elf that she only blinked and all the sudden a gaggle of people entered the hall. She was overjoyed! So many people to talk to and question and interview. The prospects seemed endless! She beamed with happiness and sighed contentedly. She was about to take out another sheet of parchment to start listing who she wanted to interview when she realized people were already talking to her! Smiling to cover her embarrassment, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and curtsied. She knew that many human cultures did this when greeting one another for the first time, but she wasn’t sure if Rohan was one of those places. Better safe that sorry though. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Pele. From Gondor you say? Oh isn’t that serendipitous, I was hoping to talk to someone here who wasn’t from Rohan to get a different sort of outsider perspective. But I can see you’re already very popular,” she looked at the line of people veritably lining up to talk to the woman. Was she famous? Yoshiyo thumbed through her mental library for the name Pele but couldn’t find anything, but that just meant her mental library still had room to grow. “I’m Yoshiyo… wait, I’m sorry, I said that already.” She smiled and laughed. She still had a ways to go before she wasn’t as awkward as a chipmunk in an apple cart.

Before she had a chance to recover herself, she was greeted by another woman, a woman that definitely looked like she was from Rohan. When she was greeted in the Rohirric tongue the smile that was already wide and inviting became even more so. “Oh! Oh! Wes… Westu hal Shivased,” she said, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar words. This was the traditional greeting she remembered. Her eyes widened. The First Marshal!? Well wasn’t this a great stroke of luck! She beamed. Yoshiyo knew very little about the military structure of country but she knew that it was integral to the structure of Rohan itself. She had to stop herself from asking the woman, who was likely here to relax and unwind rather than answer a hundred thousand questions from an overexuberant elf, and instead curtsied again “I’m Yoshiyo of Lindon. I’ve come to…research and learn about Rohan. Would it be alright if I asked you some questions later? I know it’s probably not the time right now to ask them. You’re probably just here to relax and breath and, oh jeez I’m probably taking up too much of your time already.” She paused and looked around at the tables. “Hmm, if you’d do find the time, I’ll be sitting over there.” She pointed at one of the smaller tables that had only three spots to sit. “No pressure at all, dearie, I know you’ve got more important people than me to talk to.” She curtsied again (was that the right thing to do?) and turned…

…nearly bowling into the next woman. Despite being an elf with cat-like reflexes, Yoshiyo had never learned the art of balance. She avoided (at least she hoped she did) barreling full into the woman and spilling her drink all over the place and wobbled on the verge of tumbling backwards. “Oh, oh dear! Oh dear!” she yelped, her arms pinwheeling in all directions. She was very gratefully she had not gotten a drink already or someone would be very, very soaked right now and that would not lead to a good first impression. For what seemed like an eternity, Yoshiyo wheeled about trying not to fall over. In reality it was only a moment until she regained her balance and stumbled a few steps to the side. “Oh jeez! That was a very near disaster! Westu hall,” she said not realizing she’d mispronounced the last word. “It’s nice to meet you, Phiqo! I’m so sorry about that near disaster there. I may be an elf but I clearly have two left feet. I hope you can forgive me. I didn’t spill your drink, did I? Oh dear, that would just be the worst.”

Was it Yoshiyo that popular? She looked around and there were still people around trying to talk to her. Her! People usually didn’t bound up and talk to her, normally she was the one bounding and other people tried to pretend they were very interested in their drinks or the color of tile on the floor. Being the center of attention was new for Yoshiyo, even when she was teaching, she managed to keep most of the attention off her and more on her subject matter. That was also helped by the fact that she was still just a tutor and had not attained the rank of teacher yet. “I’m Yoshiyo, it’s nice to meet you Lailyn. I’m… I haven’t had a chance to get a drink yet. I’ve been too busy nearly knocking drinks out of other people’s hands unfortunately. Though that is very thirsty work. I suppose I should see what they have available. Would it be a terrible imposition to ask for your aid if I need a translator? Oh, sorry, nevermind. It seems you already have someone calling for you.” The elf noted the young girl dashing across the floor shouting about a Tarawen, whatever that was. Was that her daughter? And the scruffy man behind her? He certainly seemed of an age to be her husband. “I’ll leave you to your daughter and your husband. We’ll catch up later. I have some many questions to ask about Rohan and what it’s like.”

She side stepped her way out of crowd and took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized it but she’d been trying to make herself as thin and insubstantial as possible. She wasn’t claustrophobic, was she? She checked her pulse and felt it slow back down to a normal rate. She inhaled and exhaled, readjusting her hair behind her ear. She must look like a mess! So much for first impressions. She managed hold on to her little present marked with a “For Aodh” in her excellent (in her mind at least) penmanship written on the side. She ducked behind the crowd of people and placed the gift on a table already strewn and laden with gifts.

She turned back around, smoothing her dress and reflexively brushed her hair behind her ear again. She blinked. Was she seeing that right? Another elf here? She blushed crimson. What if they were here doing the same thing she was? She would probably do it much better… nope, stop that girl. Don’t do that here, this is not the place. You have idea why she’s here. You won’t know unless you— “Hi,” she said without preamble. “I’m Yoshiyo. I’m, ah, a tutor and scholar from Lindon. It’s very nice to meet you, Fuin. Did you say you’re a guildmaster? Wow! That’s…” It was cool but Yoshiyo suddenly had no idea what to say, she’d never actually talked to a guildmaster before. Even the teacher’s guild hadn’t seen fit to grant her an audience yet. They would once she developed her thesis and was able to make a defense of it, but she was a long way from that. She hadn’t even figured out a topic to research and this is not the time Yoshiyo! Focus! “The Tingdain? Those are the forges right? I’ve never visited the Valley so everything I hear is secondhand.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Lailyn (she/her)
The group was growing larger by the minute and Lailyn was overjoyed to be surrounded by a sea of friendly faces. “I’m so glad to hear that, Pele,” she told the Gondorian sincerely, “and I hope you find this visit a bit more relaxing…” She grinned and cast a glance around at the growing crowd. Admittedly such a group might not be relaxing at all for some.

Fuin’s introduction left Lailyn wondering what exactly a Tingdain was, the word being completely foreign to her. She was not at all well-versed in Elvish if that’s what it was. “Good evening, Fuin!” she greeted her. “Your frock is very lovely as well,” she returned the elf’s well-wishes and eyed the lovely floral pattern with admiration. It looked comfortable, practical and festive; three things you could not go wrong with and were hard to find in one outfit.

“Red wine?” she echoed Fuin and Pele. “Hmm. It does seem like a good choice for an evening at the Freablod manor. I wonder if it is from their own vineyards…”

The sound of her name prefaced by ‘Miss’ grabbed her attention, knowing only one person who might call her that. “Thank you, Edda,” she said brightly, laughing as the girl showed off her dress. She had a feeling there was going to be a lot more spinning in store for Edda that night. “How nice to see you! You look just like an elven princess out of a story.” She winked at the elves, hoping one of them might play along. When Edda reached for her, she cradled the gift into one arm and clasped the girl’s hand. If Edda was here, that meant Æric could not be far behind. Sure enough, throwing a quick glance toward the entrance, she saw him approaching and her smile brightened.

If it was possible, Yoshiyo was even more of a chatterbox than she was! Lailyn barely had a chance to tell the elf that knocking drinks out of people’s hands was perfectly understandable amid such excitement and she would have been very happy to be a translator but was left uncharacteristically speechless at the elf’s assumption.

“My…what?” Did she say daughter and husband? Lailyn blinked. It was an innocent but rather awkward mistake. “No-” she began to correct Yoshiyo but the loquacious elf had already moved on. Lailyn stared blankly after her, still holding Edda's hand.

At any other moment, she would have thought herself quite unwelcoming for not greeting the new arrival, Erniel, who was particularly well-dressed and bravely approached the group on his own. She was too busy trying to hope against hope that Æric (or anyone else) had not overheard Yoshiyo and that Edda had not been paying any attention. Good as it was to see both of them, she did not want to start the evening on an uncomfortable note.

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Fuin

The elleth moved almost instinctively hearing clattering footsteps charging towards the group her body tensed slightly only to hear a voice she didn't know. She took a sip of her wine, and realized she'd been spending to much time around Tharmaras and his young children, that she actively braced for impact when hearing children running towards her. She smiled seeing that the little girl was excited to see someone else. She gave a nod to the ellon that had come in as well about to introduce herself as she didn't recognize their face despite her position "It's nice to meet you as well Erniel I am Fuin, and Pele it is good to meet you as well." Fuin said cheerfully recognizing Pele as who the gift that she still had on her was for though she did not let that show quite yet. After all having a present to lug about this early in the night was not something terribly fun and she had quite the ingenious way of keeping it perfectly safe for the time being. She smiled and thanked Lailyn for her comment on her tunic, it was not terribly often she got comments on her clothing she tended to be far too practical for most elven tastes most of the time. She did catch Yoshiyo's comment and she almost sputtered on her wine, the assumption was quite brazen especially with the child calling the young woman Miss. Generally that was a sign of a teacher or tutor more than a mother figure.

Definitely a young elf who was struggling with the number of people and the proximity, she was glad that it seemed SO far at least that Edda had not noticed what the elleth had said as she bounced along until she came to Fuin she would keep an ear out in case Lailyn needed help, she'd learned a few tricks thanks to Tharmaras' children since the woman seemed horribly uncomfortable with the comment.

She smiled at Yoshiyo, a young elf clearly to her though she probably had many years on many of the local guests of the feast, which turned into a slight smirk that the ancient elleth had worn many times over the millenia. "Yes, the Tingdain are the Forges of Imladris." She said recognizing one that was far too excited to concentrate fully on one specific thing at a time for terribly long. She had not heard of her as a tutor or scholar and she had traveled to Lindor more than once. She had to be a fairly new scholar. "What topics are you interested in as a scholar?" She asked amiably sipping a bit more wine. "You should come to the Valley, it is good to get first hand experiences of as many places as you safely can as a scholar regardless of your preferred scholarly topic." She chuckled, "Though I would not suggest Mordor, or the far east unless you've also learned how to use a sword extremely well though, and I might avoid the Weathered Heath lots of baby worms there." She chuckled "Sometimes the pen is not mightier than the sword."

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Edda and Æric

She was in the middle of another long very detailed account of how she had helped wrap the gift she was carrying, to someone she still didn't know who was, when she looked up and realised that there was not one, but THREE elves. ELVES! The arrival of her father went unnoticed, her bright blue eyes wide as saucers as they flitted from one elf to the other, her mouth open and gawking. Instead of the bubbly talkative bundle of mayhem, she became quite shy. Clutching at Lailyn's hand tighter than before, she started stepping aside so that she could hide behind Lailyn's skirt, only just able to peek out from them so that she could still eye the elves.

They were nothing like the elves from the story books that her father had read her every night. First of all, they did not shine with moonlight. Granted it was fairly bright in here, but she was SURE they weren't shining with moonlight. Maybe it was only outdoors? As her father arrived, she stayed behind Lailyn's skirt, not daring to cross the huge expanse that was between them, still focussed on peeking out at them, noting their pointed ears. That part was true!

As Æric made his was to the group, he gave them all a respectful nod, his gaze lingering for just a second longer on Lailyn. He had not seen her since he fixed her kitchen floor, though it seemed she was doing well. That she was looking gorgeousall dressed up, was something he was not prepared to comment on, that was not his place to do so. Instead he gave her an apologetic smile, indicating his daughter who was being quite quiet and hiding behind Lailyn. Was she playing?

"Edda, come out from there please.." he said to her softly. "Can't have you crumpling Miss Lailyn's dress.. please, come here." Long moments passed as he held his hand out to her, but finally Edda moved from behind Lailyn and in a mad dash the girl ran and hid behind her father's legs. With a chuckle, slightly embarrassed he asked "What is with you darling? Why are you hiding?" With a dramatic loud whisper, unaware she was whispering loud enough for all to hear she said "Papa! Those ones are elves! ELVES!" As if that explained it all. Mortified Æric looked around the group and said "I uh.. sorry about that, she has never met any before.."

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Silîzlin

As the crowned champion of Mx Meduseld - albeit, in an entirely different body - Silizlîn hadn’t been able to resist the urge to return to Rohan for another of their famous parties, although secretly she hoped that

A) nothing would be burnt down (at least, so as to interrupt the party) this time, and
B) she would be fully recognised and accoladed as Mx Meduseld, in her new body, but
C)everyone would conveniently forget her involvement in anything being set on fire from last time and approach her with cross words or requests for insurance payments

Points B and C would be difficult to reconcile, granted, but Silizlîn was hopeful. In order to spur people’s memories - after all, she no longer looked anything like the gangly, pale Naokis, with her stolen Easterlng body and her new wealth of dark, slightly uncontrollable hair - she was wearing her signature one-piece, complete with bum-flap and sparkly sequins.

Silizlîn happily adjusted her wreath. Instead of flowers, it was made of the assorted tat she had managed to acquire in Mordor, and as a result was mostly thorn bushes, hay, and spider web. She was carrying her gift in a not-at-all suspicious hemp sack. Surprise Presents was a great way to avoid a frisking. Mettare was such a wonderful time of year!
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Yoshiyo

Oh dear! Oh jeez! Too many people talking at once! Yoshiyo smiled, but her smile was a little too wide, displaying her growing panic that was threatening to bubble over into the giggle fits. There were so many people trying to talk to her! Attention, this much attention, was something so new to her. Even her family only paid half attention to her, her cousin, as lazy as he was, paid more attention to her but even that was barely half attention. Humans were so intensely focused! That stood to reason, what with their short lives and their frailty and susceptibility to diseases. They were always trying to soak everything in. Yoshiyo was about to have a panic attack though. On the one hand there was so much information she could gather, on the other hand… there was so much information she could gather. Before tonight, the young elleth never believed the phrase “too much of a good thing” but she was starting to believe the truth of that. She closed her eyes and slowly, slowly exhaled. That was supposed to calm people down. It didn’t really work. She tried it again. Nope, still not better. She could focus a little more, but she still felt like jumping out of her skin. What was worse, she apparently had made a mistake as to the matrilineal connections between Lailyn and the little girl. She was very much ready to turn beet red. “I…I… oh jeez! I’m the worst! I’m so sorry!” She realized she might be speaking too loud, but, in the midst of a panic attack, she wasn’t really sure how to lower her volume to a less shrill level. There was a simply solution though, she smiled, trying not to show the panic in her eyes, bowed and mumbled. “I’m sorry,” again before ducking away.

She was about to make for one of the empty tables when the other elf, the guildmaster (oh dear, or jeez!) asked her what her favorite topics of study were. That’s it! A lightbulb (read: candle) appeared in her mind. She could recite all the topics she was interested in and the litany would help calm and center her. Yes. It was odd, but so was Yoshiyo so it balanced out. “Well,” she took a deep breath. “I’m very interested in Mannish cultures dontcha know, especially the ones that aren’t related to the Edain and how they developed. I’ve done some research on the migration of the Éothéod and how they moved from Northern Mirkwood and the Vales of the Anduin to their present location in Rohan. I’m fascinated by their totally oral customs, despite the prevalence of writing and written record keeping in their allies. I’m trying to track their language to see where it diverged from the other Mannish languages and become a distinct language unto itself.” She stopped and took a breath. “I’m also very interested in ruins. Elven ruins mostly. The older the better. I’ve found a few that I’ve been able to date back to the Great Journey but I’ve never been far enough east to have something to compare them to. I’d love to go east someday, if I can get enough funding from the guild. It’s a bit of a dilemma though, I need funding to go study them but I need to have a good enough paper on them to get funding, and to write a good enough paper, I need funding to go study them and around and around and around we go.” She laughed nervously, feeling the panic start to rise again. “Oh, I would never, ever go to Mordor!” She shuddered! “Such an awful place; filled with goblins and trolls and lizards and no thank you! I’ve never actually even picked up a sword. They look so serious and clunky. I… I have a knife but it’s more a tool than a weapon. I suppose I could use a frying pan as a weapon if I needed, although carrying around a cast iron skillet wouldn’t be the most economical because it’s so heavy to carry.” She stopped herself and took a deep breath before she went down a spiraling rabbit hole.

“I think…” she declared, raising her chin up, “that I am going to sit down and have a drink. Or drinks. Probably drinks. Lots of drinks. I hope I will get to speak to you soon, Guildmaster Fuin. It has been very, very nice talking to you.” Yoshiyo bowed and ducked away, scampering to the tables laden with food. After a nervous moment’s thought she grabbed a mug of Stout Halbert. She took a sip and yelped. “Oh wow! That’s strong!” she smiled impishly and skittered away to an empty table where she half sat, half fell into a chair. “Oh wow, oh jeez,” she took a sip, fought the urge to yelp again and brought out a parchment and charcoal pencil. She scribbled some notes then began to sketch all the people she’d met so far.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Lailyn (she/her)
Thank Bema, no one seemed to have heard and though she wanted to look down at the floor and disappear through it, Lailyn caught Fuin's eye and thought she detected a hint of sympathy there. Well, it was said elves had good hearing but Fuin could not know the distress those words might have caused. Lailyn could take the embarrassment if she had to; mostly she feared a reminder of Edda's mother could sully what should be a joyful evening. Sparing them that possibility was a relief. Still, she hoped to catch Yoshiyo later and try to get off to a better start with the elf who seemed overwhelmed with curiosity.

Edda's sudden bashfulness renewed Lailyn's worries and she tried to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. She glanced down at the crown of red curls with a frown, wondering, but when she met Æric’s gaze, she could not hold back a smile. He was looking quite dapper this evening even though he’d first caught her eye without going to such effort.

It all became clear after Edda returned to her father’s side: she’d never seen elves! Of course, it made perfect sense.

“I’m sure I felt the same way when I first met an elf and I was nearly grown by then!” If she could draw their attention away for the moment, perhaps it would help and if it was at her expense, she didn’t mind. Every word was true; she had once been awe-struck to meet an elf herself.

“Did she say you were looking for Erniel?” She asked Æric then knelt down to speak quietly to the girl, hoping to draw her out. “I have a gift for an elf, too, and a few questions to ask her. Perhaps we ought to give our presents at the same time?”

Still clutching her own gift, she stood back up. "I’m glad to see you, Æric,” she added softly, her eyes bright.

“Well, what do you think, Edda?” Her voice was a bit louder now. “I think it seems quite a nice way to meet someone new, giving them a gift.” She tried to catch Erniel and Fuin’s eyes hoping they might hear her and stay to receive their gifts.

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Fuin

She heard the little girls exclamation about elves and could not help but laugh. A merry laugh like soft chiming bells, a proper nice elvish laugh that one normally associated with the elves of Imladris and their merry and sometimes silly songs and laughter. The look of horror on the childs fathers face was perhaps what was making her laugh the most. "'Tis alright sir. (Æric)" She'd caught his name when Lailyn had said it but wasn't sure he would be comfortable with her calling him by his first name without him properly introducing himself. "I have been called far worse thing than and Elf, and she is right on the bullseye with there being multiple elves here." She caught the look that Lailyn gave her having debated on going and getting another glass of wine. Apparently she could not escape children wherever she went. This one so far at least did not have sticky hands so she appreciated that far more than someone her age probably normally would be she supposed. Granted there were very few people her age about anymore, fewer still that were older. Even the Lord Elrond was centuries younger than her... She gave Lailyn a slight nod letting her know that at the very least she'd have one elf to introduce Edda to.

After that though she was going to need way more wine. Blessedly this was human wine from what she could tell and she'd be in good shape for a good long while. Perhaps once she had her gift since it seemed as if she was about get her gift at this feast. Ohhh or better yet she would have some boar. It had been quite a while since she'd had decent boar, and with Rohans history she knew that it would undoubtedly be a most spectacular bit of boar.

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Æric and Edda

In all honesty Æric shared the awe his daughter was feeling as he had not seen elves either. Though he felt the urge to run and hide too, he steeled himself and returned the smile Lailyn gave him, his heart skipping a beat and making him pause for a second. By the Valar she was beautiful tonight. Not that she wasn't beautiful any other night, just that it seemed like she glowed all dressed up like this. Not even the sight of the elves could outshine her beauty, his eyes remaining on her.

"Go-good to see you too, uh hope you have been well.." he managed, after having nodded in affirmation to her question about the gift. Inwardly he cursed himself for sounding so awkward, squirming slightly and feeling out of place here in this fancy hall. He shouldn't have come.

Edda had grabbed her father's leg with her free arm, only just peeking out from behind him as Lailyn adressed her. He placed a reassuring hand on his daughter's shoulder, slightly urging the girl forward towards Lailyn in hopes she would accept the woman's kind offer. He couldn't help but smile with pride as Edda slowly pried herself free of his leg and stepped out to take Lailyn's hand again. It was obvious the idea of being able to give an elf a gift overcame her shyness.

Both Edda and Æric looked at Fuin as she let out a laugh, eyes widening and mouths opening slightly at the melodic sound. "Uh.. I am Æric.. and this curly whirlwind is Edda" he said with a smile towards his daughter. "Pleased to meet you all" he said as he looked at each in turn.

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Shivased grinned at Pele. Yes, some downtime for us is welcome. Though, I have to say, it does feel odd relaxing and enjoying myself when I know I have a stack of missives and reports to read, duty rosters to write and any number of other tasks waiting for me back at the Dragon Room.. It really did feel odd, but good as well. She took a sip of her drink, savouring the sweet hwitsceo, then commented It's been years since I last attended a ball. I'm always in Gondor or on duty.

It seemed everyone was arriving at the feast all around the same time, and within a few minutes others joined their group. She smiled at Phiqo in greeting. Westu Phiqo hal. I'm Shivased. Before she could say more Lailyn arrived, commenting on her gown, followed by Fuin. She self-consciously smoothed her hand down the front of the green garmet. Thank you. I always feel odd and silly dressed up so much, but it is nice to be out of uniform for a bit. She gestured at the gown the other woman wore. Yours is lovely too, I love the colour of it. To Fuin she nodded a friendly greeting. Westu Fuin hal. How have you been? It's been a while since we last met. They were interrupted as a child (Edda) ran in and showed off her gown to Lailyn. She grinned and took another sip of her hwitsceo, then looked around to find her own brother. She had to suppress a chuckle when she spotted Jacen by the food table, piling a plate high with what looked like some of everything. She really wondered where he put it all, often thinking he had a hollow leg.

After watching him a minute she turned her attention back to the group around her. Yoshiyo seemed rather interested in Rohan and was asking her if she minded answering some questions later. I'd be happy to, she replied with a smile, holding back a laugh at how flustered the elf was. Anyone who knows me knows I rarely step away from my Cavalry duties. I even tend to introduce myself with my rank, as you saw. So ask away whenever you want. I'm more than happy to answer whatever you'd like. The woman had already turned away though and was busy bumping into someone else and fervently apologizing. Well, if she came back, Shivased decided, she'd happily answer questions.

Conversation flowed around her after that and she took a minute to take it all in, savouring her drink and looking about the hall again. She didn't see her diegolowine yet, but she hoped the person came, she thought, patting the sachel slung over her shoulder. She'd hate to have to send things by mail. It was always so much better giving the diegolowine gift in person, and this year she was very excited to give her gift.

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Pele

"Duties can wait a bit, can't they?" Pele chuckled softly as she commented to Shivased. "At least mine are too far away now to worry about." Perhaps this was one of the reasons she had chosen to come all the way to Rohan for a bit of festivities; if she stayed in the city, leaving any ball early to get back to doing work would be too tempting.

For a while she then simply listened in to the conversations and watched as the group began to disintegrate slowly. It seemed that the Elf, Yoshiyo, was brimming over with excitement and nearly knocked over Phiqo. However, the Gondorian did not make much of the silly scene, holding back the laughter to avoid embarrassing Yoshiyo.

At any rate, since she was now no longer involved in any ongoing conversations, Pele decided that this could be just as good a time as any for gift giving. "Phiqo!" she called, taking a step closer to the woman and making sure she did not barge into anyone. "I have brought a small present for you!" She held up a box and inspected it first for any damage that might have occurred during the travel before she was ready to surrender it to the recipient.
~~~~~~

Hadassa

She was late. It was not a good start, but it could not be helped as she could not get her gift ready sooner. But this was not Cavalry business, so perhaps a bit of lateness could be excused. At any rate she had come hurrying on foot (only adding to her lateness), reluctantly handed over her cloak and stepped further inside.

Hadassa tried to slow down her breathing a bit; the brisk walk had left her with red cheeks, and a few beads of perspiration on her forehead. Her dark hair once was neatly braided, but now a few misbehaving locks were sticking out here and there. In terms of clothing, she did not have much choice, so she had done her best to add a bit of sophistication to her simple grey cotton dress by doing a bit of embroidery along the sleeves.

Since she did not have sufficient means to procure a luxurious present for her diegolowine, Hadassa had done her best to make one herself, and now carried a sizeable box; the scent of baked goods escaped from the wrapped container and gave away a hint of what was inside.
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Lailyn (she/her)
Sensing Æric’s discomfort, she almost reached out with a reassuring touch on his arm, but thought better of it. Perhaps it would just make him more uncomfortable and that was the last thing she wanted. Her dilemma was solved when Edda took her hand again. Now that her hands were full, she could only offer him a sympathetic look. It was hard to find any semblance of sensible words with his blue eyes on her, surrounded by all those people, but she finally managed a few. “I’ve been...well enough.”

Gift in one hand and Edda’s hand in the other, she turned to Fuin and her nerves settled. “Fuin, in addition to being my diegolowine, it seems you have the honour of being one of the first elves Edda has ever met!”

“Edda, this is Fuin of…” Lailyn paused, thinking back to Fuin’s introduction. “Rivendell, wasn’t it? That’s a long way north and across a great mountain range,” she told Edda. “I’ve never been there but I am sure it is as beautiful as the tales say.”

“Perhaps you might tell us both something about it?” she suggested to Fuin as she held out a gift wrapped in parchment wound with a red bow.

Once unwrapped, the parcel would reveal a scarf and pair of gloves made of soft wool from a special breed of sheep that produced lightweight but warm material. It was likely nothing close to elven attire but it was the best her homeland had to offer. The fabric was a rich green color inspired of course by the verdant fields of Rohan. White and silver feathers were stitched upon the edge of the gloves near the wrist and at either end of the scarf. The decoration was unobtrusive and subtle; based on Fuin’s attire tonight, Lailyn guessed it might be the right level of adornment on a garment for the elf.

Wrapped in an additional layer of parchment, was a small jar of honey with a red ribbon tied around the neck of the otherwise plain earthenware.

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Fuin

Fuin smiled giving a nod to both Æric and Edda before she focused on Lailyn taking the gift and then kneeling down so that she was not towering over the young girl, "Westu hal Edda. It is lovely to meet you you look like a little elven princess in that dress!" She said with a smile. "and Miss Lailyn," She made sure to address the woman that had given her the give the way the little girl had upon arrival "Is quite right I am from Rivendell way north and across the Misty Mountains, perhaps once I've given out my gift to my diegolowine and we are eating you can ask me questions about what it's like, and you can tell me all about what Rohan is like." She did not in fact need to be told such things, as she had travelled there many times but she felt like it would make the child feel important if she were to be able to teach an elf about Rohan. There were a good many elves that would just about die seeing her interacting with a child so kindly, though for the most part she just had a thing against them grabbing her with sticky hands, and this little girl was far better mannered than most of her friends children.

She stood up slowly with a smile and nodded to Æric the little girls father and undid the bow and was quite pleased with the gift admiring the soft wool and the craftsmanship of the items and the silver and white decorations which were subtle and fantastic and only further made better by the small jar of honey. "Thanks so very much Lailyn, these are fantastic and wonderful gifts! Perhaps I shall have to put them to use with a snow ball fight outside once we've eaten our fill and rested and talked for a while afterwards!" She hoped that the woman would not mind that she'd given a good bit of attention to the little girl before she had thanked her and opened the gift and then thank her for it.

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Bran and Rihannon de Argosy arriving at Freablod manor a tad late


When it came to balls, banquets, feast, parties and other social gatherings, Bran de Argosy firmly believed that the best time to arrive at said events was right in the middle of them. To avoid being the early bird who awaits the arrival of others of its kind. And preferably you would leave before it starts to fizzle out. He glanced at his sister, Rihannon, who was sitting next to him in the carriage holding the box with the Diegolowine gift for her person (as Bran started to call the recipient). She wore the viridian gown he had commissioned from Eldreda for Mettarë, her chocolate brown was left unbound, falling down her shoulders and back in neat waves. The only piece of jewellery she wore were silver drop earrings in the shape of holly leaves that matched the embroidery of her gown.

“What is it?” she asked him, noticing that he was smiling.
“I was just thinking how resplendent you look tonight,” he told her and she smiled radiantly at him, blushing slightly.
“Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself, considering…” she said teasingly lifting her right hand to indicate his choice of garments; which were rather plain compared to hers. He shrugged, it was intentional on his part for he had no wish to stand out in the crowd. Tonight was for Rihannon, who was excited to attend her first Mettarë feast in Rohan.
“You are aware that you’re not going to be able to disappear completely?” she told him, her smile mischievous now, rather than radiant. “News travels quick, and someone will surely figure out that it was you who brought some of the horses in…”
“Well djanim let us hope your gown will dazzle them all, so we don’t have to talk about the horses…” he said teasingly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to talk about his gallivanting around Edoras with Snowmane, the second of his name. There were parts of that adventure Rihannon wasn’t privy to; namely the embarrassing encounter with Lady Éowyn of which he only told Roderic in an encoded letter. After all, he needed to explain why chests filled with silk and spices, along with a letter needed to be sent from Pelargir to Emyn Arnen.

Their teasing and his wandering thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at Freabold manor. He helped Rihannon alight from the carriage and they left their cloaks and gloves with the footmen. Walking side by side, for his sister refused to relinquish the box with the Diegolowine gift the siblings entered the ballroom.

“Do you think they’re already here?” Rihannon asked him quietly as they both scanned the room to see who was there.
“Perhaps,” he said as he recognised the carpenter (Æric) and his adorable daughter (Edda) who were standing next to an elleth (Fuin) and woman in a deep purple dress (Lailyn).
“Isn’t that the Master Healer?” his sister exclaimed and he looked over at Pele who was talking to one of the Marshals (Shivased) if he guessed correctly, and another Rohir (Phiqo) if he guessed correctly. “We should greet her. It’s only right and proper,” she said and started walking over to the ladies before he could say anything on the matter. Bran chuckled and followed his sister.

“Apologies for the interruption Master Healer. Well met!” Rihannon greeted Pele after the healer gave the Diegolowine gift to the Rohir (Phiqo). “I don’t think we’ve met, my name is Rihannon and you work with my cousin Nessa at the Houses of Healing. The shadow behind me,” she said smiling, gesturing with one hand at her brother, the other firmly holding the box with her gift, who was indeed right behind her. “Is my brother Bran.”
“A pleasure, Master Healer. Ladies,” he greeted placing his right hand over his heart and bowing slightly.
She/her.
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Pele

When Phiqo would open the gift she would find a neatly wrapped fine silver necklace which was made of a chain of tiny silver leaves linked together and providing a means to secure the pendant in the form of the White Tree. While it was a distinctly Gondorian gift to give, Pele hoped that the woman would still like it.

Her attention then was drawn by the voice calling her the Master Healer. Turning slightly to face Rihannon and Bran behind her, Pele responded: "Ah, the world is small indeed. And here I was thinking that for the people here I was only this Gondorian Ranger that sometimes visits." She couldn't help but laugh softly at the idea.

"Well met, Rihannon and Bran. I might have heard of you from Nessa, though apparently it did not occur to me that I might meet you here," she added joyfully. "But this is as good a place as any for such meetings."

~~~~
Hadassa

For a few moments the young woman milled around and observed all the people that had arrived to find the recipients of her present. And there was Aeric with a little group of ladies, though Edda was busily engaged with Lailyn and Fuin. Deciding that she did not want to wait too much longer, she stepped forward bravely.

"'Scuse me, Aeric," she began, still somewhat flushed from her quick march and a bit of embarrassment, "Here's a little something as a gift for you and your daughter. I know the tables here are laden with food, but... these are made just for you two."

Hadassa had applied all the skills of baking she possessed in making a set of muffins with layered icing atop each of these, making the muffins look like tiny decorated fir trees. She arrived late because she had waited a bit for the muffins to cool so that they could be carried comfortably and would not burn both through the round wooden platter and the box that hid them from the sight.

@Rior Laegiel, @Nessa Saelind, @Winddancer
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Edda and Æric

Edda's blue eye's grew even wider as the tall elf knelt down and spoke to her. Shyly pressing in against Lailyn and giving her father a heartattack as he hoped she wouldn't crumple the dress, Edda gave Fuin a small smile in return for the greeting. However when Fuin mentioned she looked like a princess, she beemed. The only long trek she had been on was when her father had moved them from the small village to here in Edoras, her mind not really capable of envisioning how far Rivendell actually was. But anything that lasted more than one day, to her was really far.

As Fuin rose back up and began to unpack her gift, Edda dared to move out a little bit more so she could see what it was, standing on tippy toes and mouth open with unbridled interest as the gift was revealed. She gawked even more as the elf spoke of using her gift in a snowball fight, eyeing her father for a second before bursting into giggles. The idea of an elf doing something so silly like snowball fighting was apparently highly amusing to the child, even her father raised an eyebrow at the comment.

Æric suddenly stepped to the side as another lady walked up, eyes widening as it was him that she was asking for. This diegolowine thing was one of the major reasons he had not want to come. While he had no problem making a gift for someone he did not know, it was the receiving that was the difficult part. In fact he really did not like to receive gifts at all, always thinking he did not truly deserve them, used to working for what he got.

Face slightly flushed he thanked the woman, reluctantly accepting the box and only because as soon as Edda heard she came bounding back over to see what it was. Kneeling down on one knee, he held out the box towards her as she bounced up and down, her curly red hair going everywhere. "Let me see, Papa! What is it!?" She asked exitedly as he pried the lid open to reveal the beautifully decorated muffins. "Oooooh Papa! Look! Look! They look like trees! With pretty little balls on them! Look Papa!"

"Yes, I see them, they are gorgeous. Now what do we say to the Lady?" He gave her a look and she quickly looked up at Hadassa, the shyness creeping back. "Thank you, Miss.." she managed, stepping back to press in against Æric who was still kneeling. "Good girl.." he whispered to her and kissed her curly head, before looking up at the woman and smiling. "Thank you so much, they are gorgeous and they smell heavenly."

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Nymlac (he/him), late as usual
A handsome (so he thought), middle-aged (not that he would admit it) man with golden locks tied back and not a lick of hair on his chin sauntered into the ballroom with the air of one who thinks he is Bema's gift to Rohan. (It was a feat - do you know how hard it is to saunter when you walk with a cane? Nymlac had perfected it after years of dedicated practice.)

That cane was all he carried. It was his finest; the grip was a golden horse head. Might as well limp in style. He did not bring a gift because he was not on the list. All he really wanted was free Freablod wine.

An interesting sight greeted him: the backside of a woman wearing a sequined onesie with a bumflap (Silîzlin) toting a hemp sack. Now this was someone he had to meet.

"Nice outfit." He quirked a brow at her. Huh, was she an Easterling? What was the old adage - keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Not that Nymlac had much in the way of friends but surely drinking was a good way to make one.

"What do you say you and I get sloshed tonight courtesy of the Freablods?" He gave Silîzlin a devilish grin.
----

Lailyn (she/her)
It was good to see Edda getting over her initial shock and shyness and Lailyn gave Fuin an appreciative glance for her kindness. While Fuin opened her gift, Lailyn practically held her breath, uncertain if it would be at all suitable. The gift exchange was a beloved tradition but it could also be nerve wracking picking something for a stranger. Fortunately, the elf seemed pleased, or was very good at pretending to be.

"I'm so glad you like it!” Lailyn's voice was awash with relief. "I hope it will remind you fondly of your friends in Rohan." At the mention of a snowball fight, she laughed along with Edda, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I am not sure a Mettarë feast has ever ended in a snowball fight but now I hope that it does!"

New guests had arrived (Bran and Rihannon) and Lailyn took a quiet moment in the crowd to relish the joyful evening. This was just what Mettarë night should be and it was shaping up to be as good as those she remembered. Or perhaps even better with the presence of a certain gentleman carpenter who sent her stomach swirling in pleasant loops and put thoughts in her head she should not dare to consider.

After Edda raced back to Æric's side full of buoyant energy to see what they'd received from Hadassa (which looked and smelled delicious), Lailyn shifted her attention back to Fuin. "I hope to speak with you again later! I would love to hear about your home and what exactly being a guildmaster of the Tingdain involves if you would be willing to humour a simple Rider of Rohan like myself. And perhaps you could explain what exactly a Tingdain is..."

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Éomund entered the hall, a bit on the late side, which was rather deliberate on his part. He was hesitant about attending such a party. Mettarë had always been a difficult time for him. It was a time for family and he had always felt a bit lost within his family. And for nearly his entire life his family had been incomplete. Grimthian had always been there during his childhood, but this was the first year he could remember where he would be celebrating the feast away from his childhood home (despite all the tension there) and away from Grimthain.

With those thoughts in mind, he stood just inside the entrance and looked around. He saw a few familiar faces: people he had seen in the Riddermarket and a few other members of the Cavalry. He spotted the First Marshal wearing a dress, which genuinely shocked him. There also looked to be several elves, or at least, he thought they had to be elves considering they looked human, but clearly were not. Having never seen an elf before, at least to his knowledge, he wasn't quite sure what they were supposed to look like.

He looked down at his own clothes which looked so simple compared to many of the other garments. He had never been able to spend money on frivolities such as party clothes as a child and even with the respectable income of a low-ranking cavalry member, he was still hesitant to spend money on items that would only be worn once or twice a year. He was wearing his best non-uniform clothing, which consisted of well-loved light-brown trousers and a forest-green tunic. The knees and elbows had been mended numerous times over the years, but they were well-crafted and were still perfectly suitable. Or at least he hoped so. Suddenly feeling very out of place, he sank into the shadows by the wall. He had agreed to come to the feast. But being in the room and actually participating were two different things.

In his hands he held a small package, wrapped in a simple piece of fabric. Looking around for the recipient of his gift, he wondered if she had arrived already or if he would have to deliver the package via the post office.

OOC: (Sorry I'm late to the party. I have no idea where anybody is, and don't have the mental energy to work it out at the moment, but feel free to approach Éomund, who is standing close to the wall by the door.)

Arien
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Silizlîn

Tap, tap, tap. Was that the sound of a nuthatch? No, it was the sound of a gentleman with a cane (@Lailyn), approaching with a grin and an excellently quirked eyebrow. At least, Silizlîn assumed he was a gentleman: anybody who owned their own cane was bound to be a fancy sort; at least by Mordorian standards, where frankly anyone who owned their own full set of boots was considered upper class. Of course, the Easterlings were far more cultured than this, but Sil was only technically one of those.

“Nice outfit,” he said.

“Why thank you,” returned Silizlîn with a winningly wide grin, spreading her arms (without releasing her death grip on her hemp sack) and giving him a little twirl to add to the effect, which was quite remarkable. The glitter was caused by painting ground up mica onto fabric, or something of the sort: Silizlîn hadn’t been paying attention. Alas, she had paid poor attention in her needlework class too, which was why the outfit hasnt been hemmed properly and is already slightly fraying. In Silizlîn’s head this only added to the effect as the loose threads trailed her person.

“Great Eye, what an excellent idea,” she half-groaned at his invitation. Booze! Free booze! Another chance to spit on, ahem, partake enthusiastically of, straw-head hospitality! “Point me to the drinks, I’m all yours. What’s your name, by the way? I’m meant to give someone a gift,” she added hopefully. The name on her sack was that of a man - at least, so Sil thought.
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Spotting a figure entering the great hall Shivased smiled to herself and adjusted the leather bag that was hanging from her shoulder. Excuse me. I see my diegolowine, and I'd like to give them my gift. She made her excuses from the group she'd been standing with and headed across the hall, only to find her diegolowine had moved on from where she'd previously been. Not that it was a problem, it just meant she could go get another drink as she looked around. With that satisfying thought she made her way through those celebrating to the refreshments table, depositing her empty glass and selecting another glass of hwitsceo. Taking an appreciative sip of the sweet drink she moved off, looking around as she went.

She finally spotted Hadassa standing with a man (Æric) and child (Edda), giving them something in a box. The smell drifted towards her as she approached them, and it smelled delicious. She hesitated, not wanting to interrupt but also excited about her gift and wanting to give it to her diegolowine as soon as she could. Eventually her excitement won out and she approached as the man was thanking Hadassa.

Westu Hadassa hal! she greeted, also nodding a greeting to the man and child. I'm sorry for interrupting, but I drew your name for the diegolowine, and I'd like to give you your gift. She took the bag off her shoulder and pulled out a package wrapped in green linen, holding it out for Hadassa to take when she was ready. Once opened, the woman would find a pair of finely crafted leather bracers in a rich brown, engraved with knotwork along each edge and in the middle with a Rohirric horse head.


NPC: Jacen

It was his second time up to the refreshment table, and though he shot glances towards his sister lest he get chastised, Jacen didn't feel the least bit ashamed of how much he was eating. The food at the feast was always some of the best he'd ever had, and given that he was a growing teenager, he was always hungry. He filled his plate again with a bit of everything, heavy on the roast boar and turkey, added a second plate of cookies and tarts, and grabbed another mug of ale. He kept eyeing the wine, but stuck to the drink he was used to and wouldn't cause him to embarass himself. On second thought, though, he grabbed a second tankard as well. Best not have to go back for another drink too soon.

Turning back to head to the table he had claimed for himself, food and drink balanced precariously in his hands, he spied a shape hidden in a corner and instead turned in that direction. The food he set on the table nearest to the corner before sending the person, he now saw was Eoumund, a grin. He hadn't been able to tell who it was until he had been close enough for the shadows to reveal him, but decided the shadows wasn't the place for the young man to be hiding. Eomund! he called, and gave a wave. Want some food? There's roast boar, turkey, potatoes, stuffing, rolls, cookies....anything you could want! I even have an extra tankard of ale here if you want to come join me! He gestured at the table.


@Pele Alarion @Dimcairien Luiniel

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Hadassa

It took only a moment for Edda to notice the gift, and she came bouncing up full of unbridled excitement. The simple and overflowing joy of the child inspired confidence in Hadassa's heart that she had not made a mistake by choosing to bake something rather than perhaps borrow money to buy a gift.

"You are most welcome," she responded happily both to Edda and Æric, hoping that the muffins tasted just as nicely as the scent promised - she had not had the opportunity to taste any herself, but at any rate she had done her best to make it so.

Hearing her name called in greeting, Hadassa realised that she had not even introduced herself. While she knew of the two (well, the marketplace was not that huge not to know people working there), she highly doubted they knew of her, as they had not interacted before. And yet, now her attention was now drawn elsewhere.

"Marshal... Westu Shivased hal," the young woman responded, catching herself before she snapped off a salute. Carefully she accepted the gift and pulled the cloth aside to take a peek. As the end of the bracers became visible, she hastily removed the whole covering to take a full look at the gift.

"This is... amazing. Thank you so much!" Hadassa responded, looking up at Shivased, her dark eyes shining with restrained excitement. The bracers were so intricately made that she would not be able to afford such equipment, and coming from the First Marshal no less, they held an additional value.
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Yoshiyo

She was feeling much better now. She wasn’t sure if it was from the ale she was drinking (which was quite delicious, she was already on her third mug) or if it was the therapeutic practice of art that steadied her nerves. Eventually, she would try to get back out into the crowd and talk with people, but right now she was sitting in a nice bubble of serenity. The young elf smiled, leaning back in her chair and watching the people mill about, moving from conversation to conversation. She was never very good at that. She was a decent lecturer, she often went on tangents though and that sometimes negatively affected her train of thought but, holding multiple conversations with multiple people was enough to make her feel like the walls were closing in on her. A part of her certification for the teaching guild was taking questions from multiple guild members at once on a variety subjects. She was not looking forward to that. In an attempt to suppress the feelings of dread and anxiety (particularly about things that were not going to be happening any time soon) she took another deep swig of the ale. It was really, really good. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Normally, she would never, never ever do something like that but the alcohol was helping her break decorum tonight. She slumped back in her chair, wiggling a bit to find the most comfortable position, and grinned like a drunk squirrel. She wasn’t sure exactly what a drunk squirrel would look like, but she was fairly certain she looked like one, maybe a drunk cat? She shrugged, licked the tip of her charcoal pencil and started back on her portraits.

She looked intently at the man and his young daughter, doing her best to capture her expression of wonder and excitement; pure, innocent, and unbridled joy. She could not blame the girl, even Yoshiyo was feeling the sense of wonderment here, though doubtlessly their excitement was due to different things. She smiled as she finished, satisfied that she had captured the little girl’s essence. She flipped the page, inhale the muted scent of the crisp white paper, and began drawing the father. His face was sterner, but she could see the sense of awe in his eyes. She noted that every time he looked into the woman’s eyes, the one she had mistakenly thought was his wife, his eyes dilated. She smiled secretly. It had been embarrassing at the time, but looking back on it, she might have hit on something. Smugly, she finished his portrait and looked it over; she licked the tip of her finger and smudged some of the charcoal this way and that to give the artwork some character. Biting her tongue, the young Lindon elf gave the sketch a final once over and nodded with satisfaction. On the next sheet, she began outlining a sketch of the woman who named herself the First Marshal. Yoshiyo, admittedly not knowing much about Rohirric culture, had never heard of a woman rising to such high a rank. She smiled intently as she finished the drawing, her eyes pinballing between the page and the woman. Next, she began to draw the guildmaster elf, the one from all the way in Imladris. She felt compelled to get this one right, after all a guildmaster being on her side would be a great boon when she went for full guild membership herself, even if it was a different guild. Combining the woman’s height and the depth of her eyes, she was easily the most striking person at the feast. She finished, nodded satisfactory and began on the next. She hadn’t met this elf yet, surprising as he seemed to come from Lindon as well, but his infectious smile and demeanor demanded she draw him. She had never seen an elf smile so much. People told her she smiled far too much and that she should be more serious minded but she blew them all off, who cared what some fuddy duddy in too tight robes thought about her personality? Before the feast was over she was going to have to finally introduce herself to him. But first, she was going to get some more of that wonder ale, and perhaps some food or the ale was going to come back and bite her.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Nymlac (he/him)
The sequins on Silîzlin’s outfit sparkled and dazzled as she twirled. How marvellous, if a bit unusual. The dizzying spin distracted him from remembering that Easterlings were to blame for his maimed leg and the premature end of his Cavalry career.

Great eye? Maybe...did she think he had good taste, a great eye? What a compliment!! Silîzlin was suddenly Nymlac’s favourite person in the room and it showed in the look of admiration he gave her.

“Nymlac, at your service.” He flourished a little bow and then offered her the crook of his arm to make their way to the drinks. The splendid drinks. “And you are…?”

He eyed the sack with mild curiosity but could not make out the name on it. What was she toting around in there? “Oh I am not on the list, you see, free-flowing wine is all the gift I need.” His blue eyes glimmered with desire as he took in the array of plentiful wine glasses and mugs of ale waiting just for him.

“So what do you call this?” He asked her, nodding at her attire. “I feel almost like I’ve seen something like it before but I can’t quite place it…” He pursed his lips in thought. Of course, he’d technically seen it at the Summer Festival but most of that night was lost in a drunken haze not that he'd admit it.
----

Lailyn (she/her)
Judging by the level in Fuin’s glass, Lailyn rather suspected she might want a refill soon. And if the start of the night was any indication, she was going to need one herself. With that excuse, she left Fuin with the assurance that she hoped to talk again later.

Before she peeled off from the group that had begun to scatter, Lailyn stepped toward Æric and Edda. “Those look positively delicious and not in the least burnt.” Her eyes were alight with mirth and her lips curved into a smile. She hoped he didn’t mind that she was unable to resist gently teasing him about the hints he’d given of his own cooking skills. “I think you might have yourselves one of this evening’s best gifts,” she proclaimed brightly.

“After you’ve given your gift, would you like to join me for food? I am sorry I never stopped by to say hello.” She gave him an apologetic look. She honestly had every intention to do so but sometimes the best-laid plans went awry. “I meant to but some things came up and time rather ran away with me…” Was she talking too fast again? “But we’re here now…” It sounded like more of a question than a statement and she gave him a hopeful look.

“I’m going to get a drink and sit with that elf.” She gestured at Yoshiyo sitting at a table on her own. “I hate to see anyone alone at a feast,” she explained. “And if you want to join us, then please feel free…”

Leaving them with a cheerful smile and another invitation she hoped would not fall flat, a drink was definitely in order. Taking a glass of red wine in hand, she took a sip and approached the table where Yoshiyo sat.

“I hoped we could get off to a better start,” she told Yoshiyo with a grin. “I’m Lailyn. I do not have a husband or child, and I never have, and I am a beekeeper here in Edoras.” She said it all in a matter-of-fact tone. It was certainly a strange introduction but since it had all turned out fine, she didn’t mind finding the amusement in it now though it was all rather horrifying in the moment. “Do you mind if I join you? I didn’t quite catch what you do but it looks like you are a very talented artist!”

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Fuin smiled at the giggle from the little girl at her comment on a snowball fight as well as Lailyn herself also laughed at the idea. She thanked Lailyn again and laughed "Perhaps we shall need to start a new tradition for the ending of this feast!" She said with a smile her eyes merry and full of light. She was was about to excuse herself to get more drink and find her person that she was to gift the small parcel on her belt for the moment when Lailyn excused herself first and she was able to go off and find @Pele Alarion without feeling bad about moving on. She slipped to the drink table and filled up her glass again and found Pele who seems to have given away the gift they'd brought and were talking with a few others that she had not yet met. She untied the gift that she'd fastened to her belt and waited patiently for her to finish talking with them.

"I drew your name as who to bring a gift for so I do hope you enjoy this." She said with a smile. Inside the fabric wrapped parcel once Pele opened it was a wooden lebethron box carved with vines and athelas flowers made of pearls inlaid into the wood knowing Pele was from Gondor so she'd added those as a personal touch for the woman, and inside that a tea steeper of very elven design of fine silver with three swans in flight on a background that if one looked closely the holes for the water were patterned after the Valacirca and the stars around the constellation and with it a packet of nice relaxing herbal tea.

"I do hope you enjoy it." She said with a smile.

Arien
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Silizlîn

She slid her free hand into the crook of Nymlac’s arm - the other still clutching her precious sack. “At my service? How obliging of you,” exclaimed Sil, with some fervour. It was so unusual to find people who were really willing to embrace a life of servitude, and voluntarily at that.

She flicked her eyes sideways at the enthusiastic little artist who was sketching away in the hall. Alas, garbed as fabulously as she was, Silizlîn would certainly be recognisable by any sort of police force, if the child was documenting everyone present. Sil made a mental note to behave herself - at least, whilst Yoshiro was still cataloguing away.

“Ah, Nymlac, yes, this is my patented one-piece suit with additional bum-flap,” she said inanely, only paying half a mind - you couldn’t expect to keep a girl’s full attention when there was this much free food and drink on display. “I’m known as Sil...izlîn.” The latter syllables crept in quite without her full volition. “Well, you aren’t my degleowhatsit, anyway - I’m looking for a chap called Eomund, I believe.

Although, really, what I’m looking for is...” she trailed off, her eyes sparkling as she turned to Nymlac. “A really big glass!”
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Pele Alarion

Pele had delivered her gift, but before Phiqo could reply, it came about that the Gondorian found herself on the receiving end of one as well.

"Ah, thank you so much, Fuin," she said with a bright smile, remembering the names given during the introduction part of the bigger group. "I can investigate it and see what it is, right?" It was useless for Pele to convince herself that she was not curious; besides, no harm would be caused if she sated her curiosity.

With great care she unwrapped the parcel and found a very intricate looking box within. Her fingers gently traced the carvings, as she admired the design and allowed herself to wonder briefly what the box could contain. Finally she opened the lid to find a tea steeper that looked just as sophisticated as the box, as well as some tea.

"This is perfect!" Pele exclaimed and laughed softly, as she attempted to test the scent of the tea to determine what it was. "How did you know that I greatly enjoy the process of drinking tea?"
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She smiled as she saw Pele's face at the steeper and tea and the exclamation of the gift being perfect and she breathed a bit of a sigh of relief. "In honestly I was not sure, but there seems to be mostly two types of Gondorians, those that like alcohol and those that like tea." She said with a merry chuckle. "And I hoped you were the tea sort, and tea sorts tend to enjoy the entire process."

She gave a slight bow. "Of course if you like the tea you are welcome to bother me any time via mail or in person in Imladris, though I feel mail will be more easily done for it is a long journey to Gondor from my home especially for tea." She said with a chuckle. "Now if you will excuse me there is some fantastic food that I have not yet eaten and I am going to go get myself some." With that she gave Pele a smile and Phiqo one as well and slipped off towards the banquet table wehre others had started to serve themselves.

She of course kept an eye on the wine table she'd be making a stop there once she'd gotten herself a nice plate. Then... Then she'd need to find some place to sit and enjoy the meal. Perhaps with the little girl and her adult friends. Eric and Lailyn, perhaps she would talk more to the younger elf scholar as well. For now though she got herself a lovely bit of food, putting a bit of everything on her plate.

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Nymlac
A patented one-piece suit with additional bum-flap. Huh? He soundlessly mouthed the word ‘bum-flap’ with a perplexed expression. The bum-flap certainly highlighted a certain...asset. However, Nymlac resolved to be on his best behaviour tonight (or his version of it) and kept that thought to himself.

“Well, Sil Izlîn, it’s a pleasure!” He exclaimed with aplomb. “I'm afraid I can’t help with your deigolowine - the only fellow I knew called Eomund found himself at the wrong end of a spear so unless he's come back from the halls of his ancestors, I doubt he's here.” (Nymlac was woefully ignorant of the re-inhabitation of dead bodies and if anyone told him about it, he’d want whatever they were smoking.)

When Silizlîn asked for a really big glass, he could have kissed her! But he didn’t of course. (Best behaviour, remember?) Instead he patted her hand nestled in his arm like a perfect gentleman.

“You and I both. And I think I can help with that,” he mumbled to her with mischief in his eyes. “Let’s see…”

Nymlac used his cane to send a number of non-alcoholic beverages (no sense wasting the good stuff) careening to the floor as a distraction while he nipped around and gathered a pair of wine bottles. Victorious, he held one out to Sil. “Bottom’s up, darling!”

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Silizlîn

Alas: Nymlac was not able to direct her to Eomund. Silizlîn shrugged. If said person wanted their gift, they were sure to turn up sooner or later - if Sil couldn’t identify them before the end of the night she planned to simply vault onto a table and scream “EOMUND” until Eomund appeared or she was forcibly vacated from the premises (how Sil normally left a drinking establishment). Meanwhile, there was Important Drinking to undertake.

Nymlac was proving an excellent accomplice in this regard, returning not with a glass but with an entire bottle. Delighted, Silizlîn uncorked it enthusiastically with her teeth, sending the cork whizzing somewhere into the crowd of revellers, and clinked her bottle against her companion’s.

“Bottom’s up? What an unusual phrase,” she remarked, twisting her head slightly to glance at her bumflap (still nearly in place) before beginning the process of Glugging.
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Æric and Edda

Edda watched with huge eyes as Hadassa opened her gift. Gawking the little girl wondered what it was. She thought she had seen people here wear them, but she did not know what they were for or what they were called. Before she could bug her father and make him tell her, Miss Lailyn excused herself to go get some food and drink. Food!

"Papa..PAAPAA!" She 'whispered' loudly. Finally able to tear his attention away from the departing Miss Lailyn she continued on with what she thought was a whisper still, but which was anything but. "Can we have some of the food too? It doesn't look burnt either.." She said, unknowingly making Æric blush even more, his cheeks already red from Lailyn's comment.

"Alright alright, so I can't cook.. sheesh.." he muttered to himself, though couldn't help but grin. "Ok, let's go get you some food then and we need to find this Erniel person and give him his gift. I thought I caught his name earlier.." Æric looked around as Edda dragged him enthusiastically over towards the dessert section of the table, trying to catch a glimpse of the elf. Gosh, so many elves in one place!

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Nymlac
If he were a nicer person, he might have offered to introduce her to his cousin. Lailyn was sure to know who this Eomund was (afterall, she was, in his opinion, an interfering busybody who knew almost everyone) and would likely point Sil in the right direction, or worse, go out of her way to introduce them.

Nymlac was not a nicer person, so he did not suggest this.

It took all of his self-control not to follow Sil’s gaze to her bumflap. He probably should have been given some kind of award for this incredible achievement which went completely against his natural instincts. Although the use of her teeth as a bottle-opening apparatus was inspired, he opted for the boring old-fashioned way.

“Bema bless the Freablods and their generosity!” He exclaimed gleefully, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after taking a generous gulp.

“Tell me, Sil, are you a betting woman? I can think of a few wagers I could make tonight...” He drummed his fingers on the head of his cane in consideration as he scanned the crowd with a judgmental eye.

Some of his ideas included: who would fall over drunk first (not him), who would leave with someone they did not arrive with (anyone’s guess but unfortunately probably not him), if anyone would get in a fight (he hoped so for the entertainment) and whether or not the whole place would go up in flames (the Summer Festival set a precedent- whose bright idea was it to put flaming candles and torches indoors near trees?).

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Erniel

As he took another large gulp of his hwitsceo, Erniel inclined his head at the elf who introduced herself as Fuin, and the mortal woman, Pele. This motion caused him to swallow unexpectedly, and he began to cough. He set his mug down on the table before him and held up a finger as he coughed and coughed, holding up his arm so as to direct his coughing into his elbow, and not at the other guests. The coughing did not abate, and so he excused himself with a gesture of his free hand and walked away to cough in private. As his coughs subsided, Erniel laid a hand across his chest and gasped. “Oh my! What strong stuff these Rohirrim serve!” This sweet stuff seemed dangerous! He’d have to switch up his beverage of choice for the rest of the night.

He had no idea what had become of the two he’d been about to speak to earlier, but he did realize that he was suddenly empty-handed. What had become of the gift and flowers he’d brought into the feast?! “Aha! There you are,” he exclaimed aloud when he spied them atop the drinks table. He strode over and scooped them up, just in time for his keen ears to catch that his name - his name! - had come up in conversation. A man had spoken his name and said something about a gift. A gift! A gift for Erniel! What a lovely occasion this was.

The jolly elf practically bounded over to the man he’d overheard (Æric), who was standing with a young girl (Edda) near the desserts. Those desserts did look quite tempting! Erniel's eyes widened with fascination - and, he had to admit, hunger. But no, no - it would be best to greet the other guests before indulging this time. “Hello!” he said to them both, nodding with a friendly wink at the girl. “I may be mistaken, but I could have sworn I overheard you mentioning one Erniel, an elf. That’s me!” He grinned broadly. “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you. What are your names, my esteemed fellow guests?”
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From his spot in the corner, Éomund noticed another young lad (Jacen) coming towards to him. Not knowing what else to do, and honestly not knowing anyone here (why did Grimthain have to be away at the Hornburg this year?), he stepped slightly out of the shadows towards the lad, who clearly was enjoying the refreshments. "Hello," he said slowly, but before he could say anything more, his stomach rumbled. Mentally cursing his stomach's untoward ability to make itself known at the worst of times, he found himself agreeing to follow Jacen to the table, though he balked slightly at the thought of a tankard of ale. A quick glance around the room had told him that the marshal in question was not at the party, which brought him some relief, but he was still a bit hesitant about drinking. Though, one tankard surely couldn't hurt. After all, it was Mettarë.

"Y-you manage the pet shop?" he asked, once seated and helped himself to a piece of the offered food. "Do you happen to … to have any cats?" He greatly missed his childhood cat, and sometimes wished he had brought it with him. But then, it was a good mouser and a rather grumpy old cat by this point, so moving it would have been a pain. Plus, as much tension as there was between himself and his mother, he didn't want her to be all alone in the small house.

@Shivased

Arien
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Silizlîn

She caught the slight flicker of an eyelid that suggested Nymlac was manfully resisting staring at the infamous (Patented!) bumflap. This was excellent, as it suggested that

1) Nymlac was a man fully in control of himself
2) He had no designs on her intellectual property.

It was also slightly disappointing, as it suggested that

1) Nymlac was a man fully in control of himself
2) He had no designs on her person.

Still, the night was young and the wine was satisfactory. Having quaffed with an enthusiasm that would have shamed the beards of many a Dwarf, Silizlîn sprang upright again, having arched backwards with incredible flexibility in order to pour the wine more directly down her throat.

“I mostly certainly am a betting person,” she announced happily. “What are we betting on? First to start a fight?”

Where was Eomund? His gift would certainly be... less than fresh if she didn’t find him soon.
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Edda and Æric

"I'm Edda! And I am four!" She added even though she had not been asked. Æric only just managed to say his name when she took the gift from under her arm and beamed a huge smile as she extended it towards the elf. Edda was definitely feeding off the elf's jovial nature, practically jumping up and down with excitement as she waited for him to take it.

"Papa made it himself! It's a box! And some hair thingies!" She exclaimed as Æric groaned. "You are not meant to tell him, sweetling.." he said as he put a hand on her head and chuckled. Edda did not seem to care, continuing to bounce when the gift was taken from her.

When Erniel opened it, he would find inside a hand carved puzzle box, depicting a horse (Edda's insistent request) and once the puzzle was solved, it would open up to reveal 5 beautifully hand crafted hair pins. "I didn't know what to make an elf.." Æric murmured with embarassment, sure that elves would likely have seen it all and could likely make far more beautiful items themselves. But given that most elves had long hair, he thought that the pins could help in keeping it back from their faces, clearly looking like he had made a huge mistake and that the gift was far too feminine for a male.

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Yoshiyo looked up from her charcoal sketches, having become more than a little preoccupied with details, and started quickly a the sight of the woman sitting next to her. “Oh jeez!” She exclaimed rather loud before recollecting herself. “I’m so sorry about that. Dontcha know when I start working I can get a little too focused and all the sudden kaboom!” The elf set the sketchpad and the charcoal pencil on the table, took a sip of the delicious ale, and smiled broadly. “It’s good to meet you Lailyn,” she mouthed the name silently, writing it down in a mental notebook and filing it away in a mental cabinet. “Uff da, I’m so sorry about earlier. Oh for sure I can get confused about relationships sometimes. Especially with humans. He was just very handsome and his littlun seemed to like you a lot and, well I hope I didn’t cause too much embarrassment, eh?” Yoshiyo blushed a bit but hid as much of as she could behind another sip of ale.

“Oh, you’re an apiarist are ya now? Well isn’t that interesting!” The elleth’s smile broadened and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “I’ve never known someone who kept bees before. What made you want to do that? Do you have the bees primarily for honey or for pollination? What species of bee do you have? What do you do when winter rolls around? And wasps, what do you do about those little devils? I hear they can be a right terror to bees dontcha know.” Yoshiyo took another long sip of the ale, grinning into the mug as she could see her reflection in the ceramic bottom.

“Ope, I’m going on like a weasel in a chicken house, I’m sorry. I get a little carried away when it comes to questions, dontcha know. I’ve just never been to a proper Mettarë did I pronounce that right? Well I’ve never been to one and I just have so many questions. My tutors in Lindon back in the day, they were very annoyed with me constantly interruptin’ and all, dontcha know. I got told to shut up a fair few times by my classmates and no mistake.” She leaned in close to Lailyn and whispered conspiratorially to her, “But I got the last laugh, you betcha, I was the first to be accepted into the a guild,” she leaned back, looking smug and satisfied with her accomplishments. The smirk only last a second as she looked to the ceiling and squinted. “Well, junior member, sort of, unofficially, once I pass my thesis defense, once they schedule my thesis defense.” Her mood soured and she took another drink of ale. “I have ideas for it though! So many ideas!”

Yoshiyo clapped herself on the wrist. “Ope, I’ve done it again. Oh dear, oh jeez! Twice in the space of a few minutes. I’m prattling on like a lonely kitten. I’ll be quiet now and let you talk.” She took another sip of her ale to prove she’d be quiet.
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Erniel

Erniel crouched down to bring his eyes level with Edda’s. “Four!” he cried, his mouth opening in an “o” of impressed surprise. “I never would have guessed you are four. You look far too grown up to be only four!” The ellon beamed at the little girl as she offered him a gift. “For me?!” he exclaimed. “Oh, it’s my lucky day!” He set down the gift and flowers he still carried to receive his gift, then gave a shout of laughter when Edda revealed the contents of the package, much to her father’s chagrin. “Hair thingies?! And a box! Why, I’m sure it will all be lovely,” he reassured Æric. “I cannot wait to see them!”

With great care and many ooohs and ahhhs of delight, Erniel opened his gift. “Oh, such craftsmanship!” he cried. He slid the pieces of the intricately carved and finely finished box aside, revealing a compartment full of hair pins. “Why, these are stunning!” He immediately let down the half of his hair that was tied with a ribbon and twirled it deftly back into place with one of the pins. “And perfect for an elf! My, my, Edda! Your father certainly is quite talented!”

He held the box aloft to examine the carved outline of a horse in better light. “This is fine work, sir! Do you export to Lindon, by any chance? We elves are wonderful craftsmen - well, not me specifically; I am more of an exploring and fun-having type! - but I daresay they would like to see your work!”
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Nymlac
Nymlac’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he watched Sil gulp more wine. This time, he made absolutely no attempt to hide his gaze appreciating her acrobatic litheness. And she was a betting woman! What. A. Treasure. To think, he had not even planned to attend the feast!

“A fight sure would liven things up, wouldn’t it? Hmph. Unfortunately, tonight’s guests seem rather tame and dull, not at all like the Summer Festival...” He lamented before swilling more wine.

He frowned as he took them all in. Elves--old and boring. Snore. A man with a small child--how dull. At least there were a few attractive women in attendance but he suspected none of them would be raising fists at each other and they all paled in comparison to Sil (quite literally! she sparkled in sequins).

“It seems it is up to you and I to entertain ourselves.” He lifted a conspiring brow at her. “I will propose this: if you cannot find your diegolowine by midnight tonight, I win. If you do, you win. Simple as that. What would you like to wager?”

This was a spectacularly stupid thing to bet since Silizlîn was apparently willing to jump on a table and scream Eomund’s name (of course, Nymlac did not and could not know this and anyway no one ever said he was smart!).
----

Lailyn
Once Yoshiyo recovered from her surprise and greeted her, Lailyn tucked her plum skirts beneath her and took a seat. “Please, you mustn’t apologise. I’m sorry if I startled you, I hope you don’t mind my interrupting.” Her cheeks flushed slightly between the mention of the misunderstanding and the use of the word handsome, which she blatantly ignored. “It’s already forgotten!” She assured Yoshiyo with a warm smile then took the opportunity to sip her own drink.

It was a good thing her thirst was quenched for a tumble of questions spilled out from the elf, but Lailyn did not mind in the least. Her eyes crinkled with the joy of explaining her new and beloved occupation. “My aunt has a couple of hives. She first got me started. They’re honeybees, not very aggressive. I keep them for honey and also brew mead. Yes, wasps can be very destructive to a hive but so can skunks, did you know? But they’re after the bees, not the honey. My aunt had one that used to terrorize her poor hives!”

“In the winter...there is not so much to do.” Some of the light faded from her face. Idle hands bred sometimes cheerless thoughts and gave her too much time to think in solitude. “It is very quiet. I just have to hope they’ve got enough honey in their hives to survive until spring.” As suddenly as her mood shifted at the mere mention of the season, it was buoyed again by Yoshiyo’s chatter and Lailyn could sympathize with her plight.

“I have been told I talk too much before, too, by my old officers in the Cavalry. I tried to tell them good communication would help us succeed but all that earned me was extra duty mucking out the stables.” Grinning, she held her wine glass up to toast to Yoshiyo-- it seemed their second meeting was off to a much better start! “Here’s to you joining the guild and having the last laugh!”

Noticing Yoshiyo’s confidence had deflated some, Lailyn met her eyes and leaned forward to speak more softly. “Don’t ever change who you are, Yoshiyo. Not for your tutors and not for anyone else. You are bright and enthusiastic and clearly have much to contribute. Someday, I think they will be the ones asking you questions.”

Lailyn sat back and sipped her wine, giving Yoshiyo a moment to digest the heartfelt words of encouragement. “Now...Would you like to tell me about your ideas for your studies? Or perhaps what brought you here all the way from Lindon? That is a long way to travel, I imagine you have not come just for the feast.”

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Turning to a clean sheet of paper, Yoshiyo began scribbling madly as soon as Lailyn started answering her questions. The young elf had no idea how she was going to use this newfound knowledge in the future but it was very important that she have it! She was very sure of that. The mention of mead made her grin. She looked up and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, mead ya say? I’ve only had the occasion to find that in the Lindon markets once, and by golly that was the best alcohol I’ve ever tasted, you betcha! I’d be very interested in learnin’ the process of turning honey into mead, if such a thing isn’t against trade secrets or something like that.” Yoshiyo assumed that a thing so wonderful and delicious (and rare up north) would be the subject of great secretness. “Honeybees are adorable, I think,” she blurted out with a giggle, the alcohol was starting to make her feel a bit silly. “Aren’t there some people that do that thing with the bees and…” she indicated to her face where a beard might have been. “Oh what’s it called now?” she pursed her lips with her tongue sticking out. “Oh, right, bee beards. Is that a thing? That can’t be a thing, right? That’s just a silly rumor that sailors like to talk about.” She had heard of skunks before, tiny creatures with the ability to make everything stink for miles. “We called them fart kittens when I was young; well, I called them fart kittens, no one else seemed to think it was a funny as me. I had no idea they could be such menaces!”

Another sip and Yoshiyo realized all her questions had been answered. She beamed with delight. “Well, Lailyn I think we should raise a toast to being able to talk as much as we want and telling all the old fogies to sit down and shut up for once.” She upended the tankard and the last of the delicious alcohol disappeared. When she lowered the tankard, she realized that a fairly good portion of the alcohol and dribbled down the sides of her mouth. “Oh goodness me! Dontcha know I think I have a hole in my mouth! Such a waste of good alcohol.” She sighed with practiced over dramatics then snorted.

“Oh my studies?” She suddenly grew more attentive (if that were possible) and began to pull out notebooks and sketchpads from her pack (it was larger on the inside, thus accommodating all her required writing implements). “Well, I am very interested in languages and ruins. Old languages, the kind that no one speaks anymore. It’s a challenge and no mistake to be sure, but if you look hard enough, and you have the right resources to go hunting, you can find links between languages spoken today and you can make inferences about how the old languages used to sound like.” She pulled open one of the notebooks and began flipping back and forth, her bleary, alcohol-influenced eyes searching for an example. Not finding it, she huffed and shut the book. “Well I have something in one of these books that explains it better.” She tore a sheaf of paper from her sketch pad and drew a line with the charcoal. “See, this line is the first language of the elves, let’s say. But when they spilt up and went different directions,” she drew two more lines coming off the first, “the language changes and develops idiosyncrasies and colloquialisms and such, and the more the languages and people split off from one another,” she drew more and more lines, “the more languages start to develop on their own, to the point that some languages look and sound almost totally different but if you look back at the history of the language and the people, you can see where the changes occurred and you can find commonalities. So there’s where my idea comes in, see.”

Yoshiyo shifted in her seat, and leaned forward. “I’m trying to find a link between some of the languages the old Númenóreans called “the Middle Men” and the elven languages. Most of the mannish languages came from obvious contact with elves, but the link is harder to see in the languages from the men of the second house, or however you want to call them. Most of my tutors think I’m wasting my time, but I know I can find something. A few months ago, ruins were discovered by some travelers down in the White Mountains. I’ve put in an application with the guild to get some funding to go there and do some research. From the drawings the travelers did after they were questioned, the architecture is similar to the structures around the Greenwood but more rudimentary. If there’s any sort of preserved script there, I’m absolutely certain we could start finding links to other languages. It might not be the last piece of the puzzle, but could end up being a very important one! At the very least it might help us understand how they lived and what sort of contact with the world they had!” She beamed, tried to take another sip of ale, rediscovered the tankard was empty, then laughed. “It’s a long shot, but I’m so excited about it. My first real study outside the classroom setting. They might even let me lead the team! Oh wouldn’t that be exciting? That would show those dusty old farts.” She winked at Lailyn. “I may have come down here to a bit of scouting about the area and maybe find some recruits that might want to help in the excavation. I know the Rohirrim are an oral culture but perhaps some might be able to interpret art work or sculptures or what have ya’s, shared tales and the like, passed down but still havin’ a bit of a connection to the original story.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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