Tauran and Belegedhel's meeting Deep in the Forest

Deep in the trees
You stand on a small open platform around the trunk of one of the trees here. This area is deep within a relatively quiet area of the woods, high in the treetops, but low enough that the bulk of the foliage is above you. The trees are particularly dense here, and the foliage overhead forms a canopy which completely blocks the sky from your sight. Looking downward, you can see the forest floor far beneath you, surprisingly clear of vegetation. Long rope bridges lead from this talan in various directions, with little signs in the elegant Feanorian script indicating where the paths might lead.

The sunlight is dimmed here by the thick foliage, that light which penetrates has an odd greenish hue which makes the colors seem subtly wrong, yet the gentle breezes and the soft murmuring of the leaves around you make this a peaceful, relaxing spot. Listening closely, you hear soft music from time to time, the notes filter through the air and blend in with the soft susurrations of the leaves.

Swaying gently about the melodously filled air, a young guardsman darts about the dense foliage. The piercing rays of light, battle the foliage for the honor of shining upon the golden amber strands of the guardsman's hair. Siting gently about the knotted, mangled trunk of the tree, the guardsman tilts his head back in deep relaxation. With a deep exhale, duplexed golden green leaves above him shiver with the movements of air.

Sitting in a nook created by two boughs of mallyrn growing closely together, a learner sits rather high above the ground pondering over a large text. As if torn away from a pleasant dream, the elf hears the golden leaves rustle about him. Though the sun barely pierces through the dense foliage, he can descry what must certainly be a member of the Order of Lorien. Letting himself slide from the mighty bough he was resting on, he lands about an elbow length from the guard saying "Aiya mellon, how fares your eve?" in a loud, clear, ringing voice.

Relaxed tilted head, swooning full of the melodies of leaves and wind, the guardsman is taken off guard. With a firery heart, rapidly pulsing the adrenalated blood about his body, the guardsman professes forth. "Mae Govannen mellon, the eves beauty hath swayed my attention untill your startling voice caught my ear." As the guardsmans heart stills, he stretches out his long slender legs, gently sliding down the frictioned surface of the tree trunk untill lying flat upon his back. Sharpened slits of eyes peer deeply into the dense foliage, focusing upon the learner, inspecting ever such feature and implanting them into memory.

Still standing about an elbow length from him, the learner is barely visible in the dimly lit area they are in. He peers curiously at him, as if attempting to recall some information, but having great difficulties in doing so. Inching forward, he gazes at the elf with deep dark eyes for a long while, then smiling once again, he says "I am Belegedhel of, o Arduril-o-Doriath mellon, I feel as if I have held converse with you once afore, but do not remember your name." Now seating himself beside him, he crosses his legs beneath his thighs as he begins to hum softly to himself under his breath, apparently, unconciously. He now folds his pale hands across the surface of the intricately decorated book in his lap. "A member of the Order you appear to me, and I wonder if any news can be recalled from your tongue, coming from outside of the wood?" he now says looking up at him again.

Stretching out thick muscular flexed arms behind his head, the guardsman's cracked worn lips speak in a soft weathered voice. "Indeed good Belegedhel, conversed we did naught more than a few years past. Though surely I would expect naught my name to linger in your head, for a simple guard am I. Knight-Bachelor Tauran of the Gweth Tarn I am entitled. Perhaps on our last encounter you could recall I was but a humble squire." Doned with a warm smile, he inquizatively tilts his head a few degrees while eyes widen and recieve definition from under a bushy brow.

Nodding slowly towards him, Belegedhel now recognizes him and can recall their last meeting clearly. "I believe that with the passing of the seasons, much has passed through my head as well. Indeed, I have gained much knowledge of the Wood since last we met." Stretching his legs out from underneath him, Belegedhel looks up at the canopy of golden leaves for a few moments, then moves quickly, as if a blur to the edge of the talan that they rest upon. Peering inquisitively over the edge at the path far below him, he drops a few pebbles off of the edge mindlessly. Sitting now opposite the guard, he murmurs some broken staves of some nearly forgotten lay "Lasto beth lammen... marha, hiril o laure lasse..." frowning to himself, furrowing his brows, he attempts to recall the parts he's forgotten. Giving up he peers cautiously over the edge again and says back to Tauran without looking in his direction "Were you involved in the hunt? When the yrch stole the prize?"

Grasping a golden leaf, cast down from above by wind, Tauran fiddles mindlessly. Fluid hands flip the leaf slowly end over end as with every rotation a flash of green, followed by a flash of gold. Straining his head in the direction of Belegedhel, boldly he speaks."Ah, you speak of the great hunt in the western woods. I was in attendance, though much assistance I naught could lend. Few bolts that I hurled into the skies landed on mark. Though few on mark, one arrow made a great wound upon a orch's hand, flinging his weapon down in writhing pain. The honor was mine in this encounter to view fellow Quendi in battle."

Mouth agape in bewilderment at this edhel's humility, Belegedhel frowns. "One gets the impression that you mellon, were nothing but a wallflower during this event. Indeed, if I were present I would invent laurel upon laurel recounting the adventurous affair. You mellon, should take pride in what part you played." The scowl on his face now disappears and is replaced by a slow twitching smirk as the elf finishes "besides, I have heard talk of your deeds of late, nay, since I awoke, and of the bravery displayed while in battle against the servants of the Un-named." casting a glance in, roughly, the direction of Mordor.

The sun sinks in the sky and falls below the horizon. Nighttime takes over.

A deep rumble echos deep in Tauran's chest, though once reaching his mouth arrives as a simple warm chuckle. "Ah good Belegedhel, mere words can not express the pride of standing in arms with the Knight-Protector. Infused with the battled grace and ability of Talia, battle ceased to move in my mind for eternity. As to this date, here under the golden wood I still can reflect the seared image in my mind. Someday I shall forge this image into my craft of gems, and present it to Galadriel to reside in her possesion for all Quendi to behold."

A bewildered expression appears upon Belegedhel's face momentarily, then it fades as quickly as it appeared... pondering Tauran's words carefully before answering, he says "One has often been told, mayhaps purely because I am a student of language, verse, and prose, that the quill is mighty than the sword mellon. I wish to discern for myself what is true at some date. Mayhap I will become a travelling scribe, chronicalling all great battles fought by my kin. I would enjoy that I think... "trailing off in mid-sentence he gazes into another time, his eyes glazed, looking far away.... Sighing now, he continues "I would be blessed if I could see the Knight Protector perform at what she does best mellon, and you truly are blessed for that chance bestowed unto you. " nodding in agreement with himself he smirks for awhile before it fades and he peers off again into nothingness

A face of worry glides about Taurans face, "I trust if you do view the Protector in battle it would be from a good distance. For the danger in battle is infathomable to one without training and expertise. Even as I brandished my weapon, my safety was always at stake. Solemly it would lighten my heart if behind me you stood, such any damage be inflicted upon me. My mind would never relent if battle grazed your delicate skin."

Grinning at the kind words of the guard, and visibly moved, Belegedhel says "Yay mellon, for pacifist I claim. But let not my family name deceive you, for if any of those vile slaves of the dark one were to take up arms against any member of my house, or against my Lord and Lady, I would hew every one of those beasts that my life and the Valar would allow." his face has now become grim, and the contrast is quite recognizable as his face seldom displays nothing more than a rather smile... "besides... " he begins, the stern expression on his face melting away into a pleasant curve of a grin.... "... do you know not my namesake? Though I cannot recall what deeds in my past I have wrought, being called 'Mightyelf' must have meant something, save if my parents were extremely sarcastic folk with little in the sense of good humour." he finishes with a sigh... "mayhap when I become learned in the art of wielding staff I would be more prepared to take on such tasks as I have spoken of." .... inquisitively, he asks "You spoke of gem craft? You possess such skills mellon?"

Raising a brow sharply in inquisition, "Mayhaps when my skills are better defined I shall instruct you in some basics of combat. As for the crafting of gems, indeed I do posses this skill as did my mother. The history of my life spans a great many years back, from the rising and setting of the sun passing the ages. Gladly would I tell you of this history, had I more time. Though right now I fear the time has dwindled and I must take leave to my patrol." Slowly Tauran stands with creaking knees, stretching his legs and arms. Bowing deeply, with inclined head he professes. "Namarie Mellon, our paths shall surely cross again under the stary skies, and golden leaves of Lorien."

Belegedhel rises to shake the hand of Tauran in parting "Mesa mellon, I bid you fare well until next our paths should cross" now looking down, he starts off in the direction of the Glirdain talan.