From Late Night into Day
Ormenel Heavens-day
53 Firith Fading
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous 
IC year is: Loa 138 o Yen 21, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3018>

Falls of Nimrodel
The crystal clear and cold waters of the Nimrodel burble over a small waterfall here into a large pool. You can see a myriad of colored stones on the bottom and an occasional fish dart amongst them. There are some large flat rocks at the base of the falls which can be stood upon so that you are almost touching the falling water. At the downstream end, many white waterlilies lie pristinely on the glassy surface. You realize that this must be where the elf maiden, Nimrodel, must have come to sing, as the tale says. The only thing marring the scenery is the remains of a very old talan that now lie on the ground, fallen from the treetops above.

A starlit sky; the full array of Varda's works are plain to see, with clarity unknown since elder days. Wilwarin is there, and the Valacirca, sign of Morgoth's doom; Luinil and Earendil with their silver and blood-red light. Menelmacar with his shining belt stands there, amongst a host of stars innumerable, blanketing the world below with their hallowed silver light.
And there, below, beneath; stood aside the bubbling brook that elves call Nimrodel, for love of the maid that lived beside it's falls: A tree, alone; bathed as if in benediction in the light of the stars above, with limbs upstretched like arms to welcome in the brilliance of the sky-borne gift. An ancient ash it is, old and gnarled by the years through which it has doubtless stood; shivering at the caress of the restless winter wind.

Strolling peacefully under the dim light of the stars, and elven maiden appears coming from the east. Her green dress beams softly under the light of the stars and, as she gracelly moves, it waves around her body making her seem ethereal. Her long blonde hair falls loose up to her waist, and it's very slightly disturbed by any movement. As she enters into the secluded spot of the falls, her eyes linger for a long moment on the ash that stands under the starlight.

A deeper, darker night is coming, descending like a blanket being swathed o'er the world. The witching hour is nigh on hand; and yet, in this place, held close to the bosom of the earth, with the lofty tops of the mallyrn close all 'round, beneath the indescribable perfection of Varda's crowning work, the night holds no fear to those who walk it; forsooth, no evil comes here, nor ever shall, by virtue of the great ones who dwell herein: In Lorien, Laurelindorenan, the valley of singing gold that once it was, Dwimordine the dreamflower that it has become.
And here, of all places; closest to the heart of this ancient realm in times past, where flows the burbling little stream into which are mingled, there to hear as legend says: the songs of that maid long lost to the sundering sea; the little river, a mirror to the starry light, running it's course to the union of the Silverlode and Anduin far off in the south.
Still there stands the tree, unmoving, unmoved. Such is the manner of trees, untroubling and untroubled there it stays, it's tall eaves swaying in the breeze.

The maiden steps slowly toward the ash, biting her lip as she does so. Her head slightly inclined to the left, she stares at the strange tree figure for a long moment. A sudden gust of wind coming from the river makes her shiver and she comes to a full stop, four yards away from the ash. Her dress waving crazily in the wind, she puts her hands over the silk trying to calm it down.
The growing darkess of the night fills the place, but on the hair of the fair maiden a ray of starlight lingers, making her shine softly in the night. She stays still for a while, her eyes frozen on the figure of the ash. Then, as the wind calms down a little, she walks again toward the gnarled tree. And extending her hand in a slow movement, she touches the wood tenderly, and caresses it slowly.

A shudder, a flicker of motion from within; a sound, like to the rumour horses hooves upon the ground, and yet... nearer, as if concealed beneath the earth; pervasive, the sound is in the ear, like the beat of one's heart, resounding upon the mind; it moves! A tree that moves! A tree? Doubt enters in, as is the mode of recent events; a legend walks... two legs it has, which once were one, and rooted deep; its arms do number two, those once seemingly branches long and lithe, with twig-like fingers that groped for the sky; at the last, two great eyes are opened, broad like plates that might sit upon a table, they glow eerily from within: eldritch light their gaze, is set to a perusal of the little maid stood there, below.

As the tree comes to movement, the maiden does not frighten. Her hand keeps caressing the wood that covers it, with slow but tender movement. Meanwhile her eyes rise to meet the ones that stare at her. She stays silent, but her face beams with new light as she smiles broadly.

Great feet, broad feet; seven toes each are drawn up out of the ground in which they once seemed rooted; beneath, the grass stands unmarred, it's verdant blades springing freely up between knob-knuckled digits which flex, now digging deep into the soil. From within, beyond; a broad mouth with ruddy lips that now spring open, a merry peal of laughter. Laughter as old as time it is, it touches the soul, like icy wind biting to the bone; " Hoom!" An intonation, that, in a tone unfathomably deep, " Hoho... Ah, yes... hmm? An elf I see." A smile curls those woody lips ever upwards, " Oh, but I suppose that should be expected... hmm?" Leaning to a bow, or, bowing to a lean mayhap; like a young tree to the wind, it's bushy, twiggy brow is raised, " Ahh... but perhaps it knows us, yes. Many these days seem afeared, yes. Even the firstborn... but that is not strange. Songs of us are seldom sung, they say."

The maiden laughs softly but clearly, the sound of her voice coming out as if in a sweet melody. She bows her head as well, in polite greeting, her eyes returning to meet those of the ent just after a second. She stares deep into the eyes of the tree shephard, letting the silence be not an obstacle but a way of communicating the feelings she cannot express. Finally she says, "Indeed, my friend, we have met. But it was long ago, and you may already have forgotten". She becomes silent again, her gaze transmitting bliss and joy.

A nod, or what might be so construed, were it not for the Anod's deficient neck, " We have met, you say... ho, but I do not know. Perhaps when I was an enting... The youngest of us see little of the firstborn, hmm... yes. But..." With a rumbling sigh, the Anod falls silent... trawling the proverbial, though perhaps quite literally: unfathomed depths of it's memory, " Ho!" It exclaims, " Oh, but you look familiar... though I've not made a study of elves, so one might look like another... that is why we are not elf-shepherds, I suppose, hmm?"

The night goes on and the stars shift in the sky, moving toward the west, their dim light reflect upon the waters of the Nimrodel. The song of the river fills the place for a long while, as the maiden stays silent again, her eyes resting comfortably on those of the Ent, her smile beaming the intensity of her joy.
When she decides to answer, her voice comes out sweet and musical, as if she were singing a song, "It was me that was too young, when we met, many years ago. I was just a little innocent girl, lost in your forest, without knowing my way". Her hand, that has stayed all the time posed upon the wooden skin of the ent, is now drawn back, as she arranges her hair absent-mindly.

Broad lids roll over plate-sized eyes; for a time, the light that shone from them is cut out, overhead the wheel of the stars turn, dimming with the rumour of the impending dawn; even as the birds strike up their chorus amidst the trees, still it's eyes are shut; and yet, time bends. Mayhap it is the locale, perhaps those present that distort it's perception; hours pass in seconds. Suddenly, the Anod rumbles, starting from its place; glossy eyes snap open, " Hoo!" It exclaims, " Oh, but we know you... yes. Hmm, yes. We do not forget, you see... no, no... but we have trouble remembering. And with such hasty conversation, I might forget my own name, let alone things in years passed." Glossy eyes, their light now dimmed, roll in their sockets to a perusal of the lady there, " Hmm... yes. Familiar I said, but you have changed, I suppose. Not an elf-ling now, then. No... but, I suppose you... grow, yes. Quicker than trees, I should think."

The elf maiden stands still in front of the Tree-Shephard. She waits patiently until his words come through and break the spell of the silent hours. Her gaze rests peacefully into the huge orbs of the Ent, her hands tied at her back, her hair flowing just slightly with the soft breeze of the early hours of the day. As the Ent speaks of her, she blushes slightly, and her smile grows in size. She waits a little while more, after the deep voice of the Ent has paused, and the rumor of the falls of Nimrodel is the only sound to be heard.
She then looks up and says slowly, in her musical voice, "Yes, my friend, we do grow up very quickly. What for you may have seemed a short instance, it has meant for me my entire life. I've seen many peoples and things, and I've grown up not so much in my body as in my soul. But now we meet again," She makes a longer pause here, speaking only with her eyes, then goes on, "you can't imagine how much I've been longing to see you once more". She lowers her gaze a bit, not able to hide the rising colour upon her face.

" Ho, yes..." Says the ent in reply, " So it is... the kingdoms of men might rise and fall, and for ents it should be but a drop in an ocean of time..." At the last, it seems quite amused, though; its humour pleased, as it's heart were touched, " O-ho... but longing? You give me too much credit. There is an old debt, and I did but repay it in part" A smile touches the Anod's face; " But ho... you have seen me now, and what? I do not need thanks, not me..."

The maiden's face keeping blushing more and more as the Ent speaks, she giggles softly and after opening her mouth and then closing it again for three times, she finally says, her gaze now directed to the hands of the Anod, "My friend, it's not for the shelter you gave me when I was lost, neither for the company you kept me, even if I was too young, that I may wish to thank you." She breathes in and out slowly, the smile upon her lips trembling a bit as she raises her head and looks again into those powerful eyes in front of her, "But rather, it's because many times, when I was alone, during these centuries that passed after our last meeting, I could think of you, of the light of your eyes, of your gnarled hands and your wooden skin, and that would be enough to make me feel accompanied again." She lowers her gaze, and stares for a short moment at the green grass around their feet, then says, "My friend, I may not be more than a mere elf maiden for you. But you, for me, are a reason of joy. That's why I'm so happy to see you again."

Struck dumb, overcome mayhap by the innumerable compliments payed him by the maid; the anod's smile broadens to a grin, it's ancient eyes alight with mirth, " Too much credit, I said. Perhaps I was right... but I should give thanks now, I suppose, you honour me with your words, little one... oh, so you do." The ash' gnarled face darkens, twiggy beard seeming to droop, it that were at all possible, a mighty sigh it heaves, and says: " A bitter thing is loneliness, as all my kind can tell... our sadness is unmatched in that, but you... ho, there are still elf-husbands for you to have, though there be not ent-wives for us. What loneliness can you not end in that manner, child, hmm? There is still joy to be had for your kind, though it be fleeting. Sieze it up, I should say, whilst still you can."

The elf maiden presses her lips a bit as the Ent speaks, her smile becoming tensed as she's questioned by the older one. She sighs and stays silent for a long while, her eyes diverting to some other place in the horizon. When her gaze meets that of the Ent again she seems to have saddened a lot, she speaks now in a soft whisper, as if her voice wouldn't allow her more, "Your words speak truly, my dear friend. But in all these years I have found no elf that would take my heart. I've been to distant lands, met strange people of all kinds, but in none of them I have found that one that could make my life complete." A deep sigh, and the smile totally faded now, the maiden goes on some more, "It's only among my trees, my forests that I do feel happy." She makes a slight pause and then adds in such a soft voice than is almost impossible to hear mixed with the sound of the falls, "And now that I'm with you, I do feel complete".

On that, the Anod ponders; in a drawling tone, " For some, they say... those touched by the grace of my mistress. For them there is a time, when else they might seek the west, that they would dwell with us. But not you, I deem... this is not your time, m'dear. No... for you there is time yet, but not long in measure of years..." A booming sigh, " The time of dwindling is nigh on hand... for your folk and mine. But I entreat you, seek out happiness whilst still you can... at least for you there is a hope of it." Wide eyes wink out momentarily, and the Anod breaths his heady melancholy, " Perhaps though, happiness is elsewhere..."

The maiden nods at the Anod's words, first slowly, then more eagerly. "Happiness I do seek, my friend. I look for it everywhere." She sighs softly and goes on, "A brother of mine had come to this Woods, and got married here not long ago. And while we were together, I could experience a bit of his great bliss." She shakes her head, her hair waving in the air as she does so, then adds, "He has gone now, returned to his land with his wife... I was left to ponder about my life." She presses her lips with much strength and says, "But I don't think I'll ever get to wed any elven husband, I don't think any elf could understand how much I love the trees of my forests..." Her eyes rest on those of the tall Ent for a long silent while, and she then finishes, "You say our time is getting near, and it is true, I wonder how am I going to leave this beautiful trees, I love so much".

" Oh-ho?" A booming peal of laughter issues forth from the Anod's ruddy lips, " I think that you ask too much, little one... you say that you love the trees. But I should say that you do not... not truly, as we do, no... But there are others that hold the olvar in regard as high as yours, ho, yes. And here in Lothlorien you would find them..." Long arms are outstretched to either side, and the ent wheels about; the light of the dawning sun falling on his upheld limbs in benediction; " Ah... Lorien. Even the eldest could not enter in without remembrances of youth long lost... and you are young little one. Into the west you may dwindle, but not alone... seek and ye shall find, hmm?"

The elven maiden bites her lip as the Ent speaks, she shrugs slightly but then nods, "Yes, wise one, you may be right on what you say." She lowers her eyes and stares at the surrounding trees for a moment, then adds, "But I do love these trees more than the usual elves that live here. I am young, and I know it. But I just don't know where to seek anymore." Her gaze raises again, to meet the eyes of the Tree-Shephard and she says, "I've met many elves of many places, all with many virtues, and still I can't find the one that is for me". She suddenly shakes her head with eagerness and says, "I shouldn't bore you with all this, I'm sorry, these are only the stupid things that matter to elves".

" Only to elves?" Silence ensues, the Anod ponders... " Perhaps," A sigh, the wooden giant's shoulders rise and fall, " Hum, perhaps... and yet, for those that are eternal, what is that? Hmm... you will meet him, here or there... even in the utmost west, you will meet the one. Do not doubt that, it is that which sustains us to the end, you know. Ho... they are not dead. We have but... lost... them."

The face of the maiden darkens a bit as she nods slowly to the Anod's words. She stands still in front of him, biting her lip now and then, looking at his eyes with her face towards the morning sky. She remains silent for a long while, speaking very softly when she finally does, "I know, mellon, I know the story. You also have that hope, don't you? Of finding them some day, of meeting them and be young again?". She lowers her gaze, staring at the grass at her feet and says, "I wish I could do something to help you, but I can't".

It's mood brightening somewhat, the titan manages a semblance of a smile, " Oh... that would be nice, so it would. Hoom... yes, then we would be happy, all of us. Fitting perhaps, for our labour... the mistress might reward us." Arms droop, let fall to the Anod's sides, " You should keep that dream, child. It will sustain you too..."

The maiden nods and stays silent, while the smile of the Anod reflects upon her lips in a broader smile. She extends her hand and touches the rough skin with her fingertips, while she says, "I will do, my friend. I will keep that dream with me, as I keep the memory of your voice and the colour of your eyes." She makes a pause, her fingers moving down over the skin of the Ent, her gaze lowering, "Maybe it's now time to say good bye. Maybe we may see each other again at some other time, before the end comes." The elven hand moves some more and then gets hold of one of the big rough hands of the Ent, the maiden raises her eyes once again and looks with a bright smile toward the eyes of her interlocutor.

Longlimb says in Sindarin, smiling down at the (comparatively) little woman before her, the Anod touches a long, gnarled finger to her face, upon a cheek. "And I shall remember you little one, hmm... or at least," He smiles, "I shall try not to forget... it is a difficult thing for us, you know... so much inside," He taps a finger on his brow, indicative of the fathomless depths of the mind therein, "I should wish you luck in your search, I suppose."

The smile upon her lips broadening as the Anod touches her face, Aldarwen blushes a bit and says, "And I wish you luck in yours, too, mellon." She nods her head slightly and adds, "You can never tell what will happen in the future. Let's just hope it's something good for us all". She bows low and then steps back, still looking at the Ent.

" I would say goodbye... but that word is altogether wrong." The tree-shepherds bushy brow creases to a frown, " Much too hasty... for a thing that should take a long age to say. So... farewell, I should say. Doubtless we shall meet again." With that, the Anod moves to a lumbering turn that he might leave, great footfalls carrying him away eastwards, to the roaring union of the rivers far off among the trees.

The elven maiden bows her head once more, "Farewell, you too. I do hope that we will meet again". She retreats slowly, her eyes fixed on the Ent as he goes away, her hair flowing in the air as she moves backwards.

Longlimb
A titan, a lumbering figure of wood ne flesh; of great height it is, tall even as a troll. Yet fair to thine eyes, and with a strong body, stout as a young tree. Forsooth, such is its' form: Fully twelve and one half feet it towers, possessing of a tall head, without a neck to speak of. Ash grey bark is its' rainment, aged and wrinkled. But its arms, depending a short way from the trunk are smoothed, even as polished wood; each ending in a hand of many knob-knuckled fingers. Its' great legs, as if cloven from the living wood run a twined course down from their indiscriminate beginning, before dividing, ending with many, gripping toes.
Upwards, set atop its trunk-like torso, a head, a face most extraordinary: a broad mouth, and with ruddy lips. Set therein, two shocking, plate-sized eyes like to glossed hazel wood, but shot with veined eldritch light; which reflect a tale of years untold. A beard there is, or seemingly so, long and faded grey-green as aged moss or lichen.

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Aldarwen
You look upon a slender elf maiden, her eyes are dark green and if you look deep in them you can see the leaves of the trees of her childhood still quivering. She has long hair and the color is a bit greenish, like the grass in automn. She's smiling, but in her expression you may notice she's not completely happy.
She's wearing a long green dress, that shimmers with different shades of green as the light reflects on it. A thin silver belt tightens around her waist. On the left shoulder, there's a green symbol of a dove being released by two hands. She wears no necklace or rings of any kind.

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