Hall of Song

[Lail]

In the Fifth Circle of Minas Tirith stands a grand building of white stone with arched windows, columns, and sculptures adorning its facade. At night, candlelight and torches illuminate the building with a warm, welcoming glow.

Image from Wikimedia

Main floor
An arched antechamber opens up to a long, pillared hallway. In the corner, doors lead to small workshops for luthiers, windsmiths, tambouriers, and reedmakers. Velvet carpets leads to the grand concert hall with a white, domed ceiling and perfect acoustics for operas, symphonies, ballets, and concertos. Performances draw crowds many afternoons and evenings and private boxes are available for the privileged few.

A maze of rooms behind and beneath the concert hall house the costume and dress rooms where mirrors line the walls and the green room where performers tame nerves and make final preparations before their big moment on stage.

Image from Wikimedia

Second Floor
A winding staircase leads to the next level, providing access to the concert hall’s balcony seating. Also on the second floor, a smaller audience chamber at the back of the building hosts chamber music, recitals, and more intimate performances. Practice rooms with thick stone walls allow students and musicians private rehearsal time and classrooms provide space for teaching.

Top Floor
The top floor houses an archive of orchestral and operatic scores, plays, concertos, librettos, lyrical songs, and all manner of musical pieces.

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Twice a year, the Hall of Song hosts on an open day, in which members of the public are invited inside to peruse instruments, talk to tutors, and spend money to fund performances. Other special events may take place if the occasion calls for it. (Feel free to make up your own event.)

Come for a performance of a lifetime, to learn or practice a new instrument or song, to have your instrument repaired, enroll in classes, or hire a private tutor.

Be creative! You do not necessarily need to make performance or music a large part of your story here. Simple, slice of life opportunities abound as well as something more dramatic or mysterious or even something interwoven with a performance like in the Phantom of the Opera. The possibilities are as endless as your imagination.

Many people might spend time here, including (but not limited to): composers, conductors, directors, tutors, students, singers, musicians, dancers, bards, minstrels, playwrights, luthiers, windsmiths, tambouriers, reedmakers, costume designers, prop and set creators, stage hands, audience members, ushers, messengers or delivery people.
Please note, the Hall of Song is run cooperatively by people from all aspects of music and no one person is in charge. I hope this will allow us all to build and grow this setting cooperatively together.

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Rules
- ALL characters/races are welcome!
- This thread has no dedicated timeline. Feel free to play in any age/year and label if appropriate for your story.
- Please mark the top of your posts as Open (other RPers are welcome to join in) or Closed/Private (on your own or with other player(s) either pre-arranged or one you meet along the way and choose to run a story with). Feel free to use the OOC thread or RP Request to make connections.
- Canon Characters: All canon characters are open to everyone. If it happens that two people want to write the same canon character, they are free to do so; all duplicates will be considered as existing in different universes and not interfering with each other, unless otherwise agreed upon by the players. (Rule courtesy of @Moriel)
- Content Warnings to be used at the discretion of the writer, bolded, and placed at the top of the post.
- OOC is fine here if marked (no need to white out) or in the OOC thread, up to you.
- Please no bright/light colors. Small pictures only, please.

Thanks to @Rillewen for the idea of starting the thread and helping draft the OP!

[Rillewen]

(Private)

|
Oluion and Ôlthel Felmë
(Many years ago)

Wide brown eyes stared up at the grand building in front of them, amazed at the size and beauty just of the outside. "Are we really going in there, Daddy?" Ôlthel asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"We are," He assured her with a smile. Multitudes of other folks were coming in and out of the building as they climbed the steps, Ôlthel skipping along next to her father with great excitement. An instrument case hung at his side from a strap over one shoulder.

"Why's there so many people?" Ôlthel wondered, sticking close to his side, nervously.

"Apparently, they're having a performance happening today," He explained, helping Ôlthel open the heavy, ornate door.

Once inside, the interior took her breath away. She paid no attention to the crowd bustling around, waiting to get in to find a seat for the event. If she had thought it was beautiful outside, it was nothing compared to the inside! "What's a performance, daddy?"

"When a lot of musicians, singers, actors, or dancers, come to perform on the stage," He explained with a little grin.

"Are you going to play in it?" She asked, wide-eyed, looking at the instrument he carried. She forgot what he'd called it.

"Oh, no." he laughed. "I'm no professional. And anyway, remember, I only came to get some new strings put on."

"Oh." She nodded, remembering. "Will there be anyone around to do it?" She wondered, imagining that the people he needed to fix his instrument might be doing all the performing, and would be too busy.

"Well, I hope so," Ôluion replied, glancing around. "I didn't realize there was a concert happening today, but there ought to still be some people working in the repair shops."

They weaved through the crowd, climbing up a grand staircase to the second floor, and continued on their way until reaching at a quieter hallway, and Ôlthel turned to look back as they left the crowds of people behind. She wondered what the concert would be like, but sadly, it seemed she would not get to find out. Soon the excited chatter of the crowd in the lobby fell away from them, and her father stopped at one of the doors down at the end and knocked.

"Come in!" A voice called from inside.

Stepping inside the workshop, Ôluion smiled and greeted the man there. "Saelben, how are you?" He shook hands with the man. "This is my daughter, Ôlthel."

"Hello, sir." Ôlthel smiled politely.

"Good to meet you, little lady." The man smiled before addressing her father again. "What brings you here, Olu?"

"I need some new strings," He explained, resting his case down on a table before opening it to show that one of his strings had broken.

Curious to see, Ôlthel stood on tiptoe at first, but soon grew bored as the two grown-ups began to talk about strings and sound and vibrations and whatnot. Soon the two were deeply engaged in conversation about music and things that were way over her head. And completely focused on her daddy's instrument.

Growing more and more bored, the small girl of seven watched her father for a moment before deciding that he would probably not notice if she slipped out for a few minutes. Just to look around a bit. Tiptoeing out of the room, she left the door ajar ever so slightly, just so that it wouldn't make any noise upon latching. Then grinned to herself and wandered down the hallway to satisfy her curiosity.

The place was enormous! After wandering down the length of the hallway, a noise caught her attention. It made her stop and look around. The noise of a large assembly of musicians all striking up their music at once, in perfect unison and harmony. She caught her breath, listening, as the noise drifted down the hallway. Drawn toward it, she followed the of the music. Eventually, she found a set of doors. The music was just on the other side, she just knew it!

Pushing the door open, Ôlthel stepped inside and stopped again, eyes widening further as she found herself on a balcony overlooking it all. It was like nothing she ever would have imagined! The huge, vaulted ceiling rose up high, a gorgeous chandelier with many candles all burning brightly was hung from the center of the ceiling. The walls were lined with box seats all around the enormous room, and in the middle, below her, were rows and rows of seats. All filled with people. And down at the end, a collection of musicians played all together. That was what caught her attention the most. She had heard her daddy play his instrument, and he played nicely, but this was totally different than anything she'd ever heard before.

"Excuse me miss. Where are your parents?" An usher startled her, appearing from somewhere off to the side.

"Oh.. um.." Ôlthel was a bit alarmed to realize she might have lingered a bit longer than she meant to.

"Do you have a ticket? That will tell me where to find them," He offered, helpfully.

Ôlthel did not have a ticket, and realized she was probably not supposed to be here. Not to mention the fact that her father had probably noticed her absence by now, and would be looking for her. Instead of answering the man, she fled back through the door and raced down the carpeted hallway, hoping to rush back to the workshop room before she got in trouble.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Ôlthel Felmë
(Many years ago)

The carpet muted the sound of her running feet. After ways, she stopped and looked back. No one was chasing her. She breathed heavily from running, and slowed her pace as she continued. Now, how far down the hallway was the door? She stopped and looked around, then started checking each door. On and on she went, until at last one of the doors opened. Surprised, she stepped in to find.. not her father.

Instead, there was a lady inside, cleaning a blackboard. "Did you forget something?" She asked, turning, then looked surprised when she saw Ôlthel. "Oh, hello. I thought you were my student, returning."

"Your student?" Ôlthel tilted her head, looking around. "I didn't know this was a school."

The lady smiled. "It is, in a way. But not like you're thinking of. I teach people how to sing." She explained.

"To sing? You mean you teach them new songs or something?"

The lady laughed lightly, and sat down on a bench, facing Ôlthel so she was more at eye-level with her. "That is some of it, yes. But I can also help them to learn how to use their voice to sound nicer when they sing."

"Ooh!" Ôlthel grinned. "That sounds like fun. Can I learn?"

The lady paused, considering her for a moment. "Well, that would be something to discuss with your parents. Where are they?"

"Oh.." Ôlthel remembered her father. "My daddy is here getting his instrument fixed. He'll be a while longer."

"Hmm, alright. Well.. if you're truly interested, perhaps I could give you a short lesson, this one time, and you can ask your father whether you might continue taking lessons. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" Ôlthel brightened, eager to know these secrets to learning to sing well. "What do I need to do?" She wondered, already trying to think of how she might be able to convince her father to let her take these lessons. And she was so excited about whatever this lady would teach her, that she completely forgot that she was supposed to be going to find her father.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Oluion Felmë
(Many years ago)

He'd only turned out around for a moment, wrapped up in conversation with Saelben. And, while he had not expressly told his child to stay, he had assumed this did not need to be told. How wrong he was. He ought to have known better, Oluion realized, the moment he turned to check on her, and saw that Ôlthel was gone.

Rushing up and down the corridor, he called, "Ôlthel!" But he got no reply. She couldn't have gone far, right? Úllothel was going to kill him for losing their daughter! He could hear the symphony going on, elsewhere in the building, but he could hardly enjoy it, being so distraught over his missing child.

Many of the doors along the narrow hallway led to empty rooms. Still, he stepped in and called his daughter's name. Either she was not there, or she was hiding for some reason. She wouldn't be playing a game, would she? He hoped not. He was growing more panicked the longer he went without finding her. At the end of the corridor, just before the staircase down to the lobby, he took a moment to try and think. Taking a deep breath, he tried to imagine what a small girl might do, or where she might go in a place like this.

The music. He realized it, as soon as he began trying to put himself in the child's place. She'd be enraptured by the magic of the symphony, surely. She'd want to go and see the source. He hastened toward the balcony doors, hesitating before cautiously peeking his head through.

Oluion paused for a second to let his gaze scan the scene, half-hoping to spot his little girl, but another half of him wished he could afford to buy tickets and take his family to see something like this.

"Can I help you, sir?" An usher approached, speaking softly.

"Oh, perhaps?" He was a mix of disappointed and relieved. "My little girl has wandered off, and I can't seem to find her.. you wouldn't happen to have seen her?"

"Ahh, about so high, dark hair? Big brown eyes?" The usher asked with a small smile.

"Yes, can you tell me where she is?" Oluion asked, anxious.

"Well, she wandered in here, and when I asked her where her parents were, she ran off, I'm afraid."

Oluion's heart sank. "Did you see which way she went?" He was growing more and more worried. This place was huge, after all, and it was easy enough to get lost when you knew your way around a little bit. For a little child being here for the first time, it would be very easy to get turned around, or distracted by some wonderful new sight or sound...

"I did," The usher replied, to the relief of the worried father. He motioned for him to follow as he led the way back to the large hallway/lobby, where he pointed to one of the doors at one end. "I saw her disappear down that way. I figured she must be finding her way back to you. Hope you find her."

"Thank you!" Oluion exclaimed in relief. The door was quite close to the one leading to the hallway where he had been, so he could understand how the child might have gotten confused. He hastened down this new hallway, unsure what might be down this way.

[Rillewen]

(Private)

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Oluion and Ôlthel Felmë
(Many years ago)

Being unsure of exactly where Ôlthel had gone, Oluion stopped to check each door along the hall. After he had gone a long ways, he began to hear something. Singing. He stopped, listening, and realized that was his daughter's voice. She was singing! He breathed out a sigh of relief, and laughed softly to himself. Approaching the door from which it seemed to be coming, he paused and listened. Yes, that was definitely Ôlthel, he confirmed. He quietly opened the door and looked inside.

And sure enough, there was his daughter, standing at a songbook stand, in front of a blackboard. A lady was standing nearby, watching, nodding here and there, as if coaching her, and listening carefully. Somewhat amazed by this unexpected sight, Oluion just watched for a moment. When Ôlthel had finished her song, the lady spoke kindly, saying what a good job she had done, and followed up with a little suggestion on how she might do better.

He chose this moment to step in, and cleared his throat softly. "Excuse me.."

"Daddy!" Ôlthel happily came to hug him, then looked a bit guilty as she remembered that she might be in trouble.

"I was worried sick about you," He informed her, attempting a stern look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wander off," She insisted. "I was just curious, and then I got lost, and..oh! This is Ms. Thilirien, Daddy. She's teaching me how to sing nicely!" She declared happily.

"Ms. Thilirien," Oluion nodded to the lady. "I apologize for my daughter, but I thank you for keeping her in one place until I could find her."

"Of course," She smiled. "Ôlthel is a sweet girl. She has a very nice voice, too."

He smiled. "She often sings along for me, when I play." He explained with a little grin at Ôlthel.

"Please, can I take lessons with Ms. Thilirien all the time?" Ôlthel begged. "Please, Daddy?"

He looked thoughtfully at her, then at the voice teacher. "Well, maybe. Let me talk to Ms. Thilirien about that. And then, of course, we'll have to talk to your mother. But you," He looked sternly at his daughter. "Have to promise you'll never again wander off like that! You scared me, Ôlthel."

"Sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again, I promise." She hugged his leg. "Please, let me take lessons?"

He laughed lightly. "Why don't you go over there and sing that lovely song again, while I talk to Ms. Thilirien about it?"

"Alright!" She happily bounced over to the stand to start the song over, while Oluion went to discuss what sort of prices were involved with these private lessons. He did hope it would be affordable, as it didn't seem quite fair to Ôlthel that her brother was off training to become a knight, in Belfalas, while she had nothing to compare with that.

By the time Ôlthel had finished her song, Oluion was feeling fairly satisfied with his ability to convince his wife to invest in these lessons, and hoped that it might be something that Ôlthel would enjoy. "Thank you, Ms Thilirien. I'll talk to my wife, and if she agrees.. then we shall return to discuss a schedule with you." he told the lady. Ôlthel was clearly excited, and honestly, he was a little bit excited for her.

"Excellent, I would love to have Ôlthel for a student. She shows much promise," Ms. Thilrien smiled. "Goodbye, Ôlthel. I hope to see you again soon!"

"Bye!" Ôlthel waved, a little disappointed to have to leave, but she was very excited about the prospect of maybe coming back. "I hope Mother says I can take lessons!"

"I'll see if I can convince her," Oluion replied, smiling slightly. "I think it would be nice for you."

Skipping along next to her father, Ôlthel was still singing quietly as they stopped at the other workshop to collect her father's instrument back from Saelben, which had its new strings in place by now. After paying for the new strings and the work done, Oluion bid farewell to Saelben, then made sure to keep a firm grip on his daughter's hand, so that she would not be tempted to run off again as they left the Hall of Song. Already, he was figuring out the best way of convincing Ullothel that they could afford this. They both worked jobs, and while it was a little difficult at times to pay all the bills, it would be worth the extra cost if it made his daughter happy.

(end)

[Rillewen]

(Private)

Úllothel Felmë
About 12 years ago

The grand entrance hall was quiet as Thel walked inside, but from the depths of the place, somewhere in the upper floor where the classrooms were, one could faintly hear the sound of lessons and practices going on, but it was muffled enough that she couldn't tell much about the instruments being played.

Glancing around, she hesitated and glanced around for someone to talk to. Having taken the opportunity to come over here during her lunch break, she knew she couldn't take too long. So, following the sound of the muffled music, she ventured up the stairs. A soft smile came over her face as she recalled the many times she used to walk up these very steps with her little girl, taking her to her singing lessons. Ôlthel had loved it, and while it had been hard financially, it had been worth it. She hoped to make a similar investment, now, years later.

A gentleman and a young man emerged from one of the rooms, both with an instrument in hand. After bidding farewell to the young man, he turned to Thel with a smile. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"I hope so." She smiled. "I was interested in enrolling my grandson in music lessons, but I'm not sure who to talk to."

"Ah," he smiled. "Well, I happen to be one of the tutors. What sort of instrument is your grandson interested in?"

She laughed softly. "All of them." She smiled. "At the moment, he plays on my pots and pans mostly, but I would like to direct his attention toward a proper instrument." She explained. "His friend has just given him some sort of instrument for his birthday, mostly a toy, but... well, Ithought it would be nice if he could learn a proper instrument."

He laughed slightly. "Yes, indeed.. well, perhaps we can help. How old is he?"

"Eight," She answered. "His mother used to take singing lessons here when she was a child, and she absolutely loved it. But she passed away a couple years ago," She added sadly, "but now Trevadir is showing interest in music, as well. My husband used to play an instrument but I don't remember what he called it, and.. he's gone now too." She sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He replied, sympathetic. "As for your grandson, eight is a good age to begin," He nodded. "Would you like to step inside and talk about it more?"

"Thank you. I haven't got long, though." She warned, before stepping in to sit with the gentleman and discuss the details involved. But soon, disappointment settled in her heart as the topic of money came up. The cost of lessons had increased since Ôlthel was a child. And Ullothel's income had greatly decreased, since Uluion's passing. Left with only one income and two young boys to raise on her own, she struggled already to pay the rent and keep food on the table.

With a soft sigh, she stood and shook hands with the tutor. "Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions," She told him. "I'm afraid it's a little more than I can afford at this time, but perhaps later on," She tried to sound hopeful that their situation might improve in the near future, though she very much doubted it.

As she bid farewell to the tutor, Ullothel tried not to feel too disappointed, but also decided that it would be best not to tell Trevadir anything about it. As much as it had disappointed her to not be able to let him take lessons, how much more disappointing would it be for him to be told that it was an option that existed, but he couldn't do it? Besides, even if she could somehow manage to scrape together enough money to pay for Trevadir, what about his little brother? Though Tobedir was only two right now, he would grow, and develop his own interests, which might also cost. And it wouldn't be fair to Tobedir if Trevadir got to do something and he couldn't.

Shaking her head to herself, she decided it was probably best that this place was up on the fifth level, where Trevadir was unlikely to ever notice it. From the outside, it just looked like some library or museum that the young boy would likely never pay any attention to it even if he did see it. That was a small consolation to her, to know that he would never really know what he was missing, but she still felt a bit saddened as she returned to the shop where she was employed to alter and tailor the clothing as customers required. At least she could take her mind off it by focusing on her work.

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
Behind the Curtains of the Main Stage
(Open)

When she awoke that morning, she had not expected the sense of finality that washed over her. She let out a beath she’d unconsciously been holding, the air slid through her teeth giving her a sense of calm. When was the last time she’d sung in front of a group of people? That time in Rohan didn’t count, there were too many odd circumstances revolving around that. She might have tried to sing once or twice in Benton, but that had been a lifetime ago. She was a different person now, complete with warts and all. She licked her lips, they were dry from nerves. Just a song, just one song. That’s all this was going to be, and it wasn’t an aria, or anything complicated like that. It was a song, accompanied by a guitar. When she’d come to Minas Tirith, tired, with a badger and three skunks as company, she never imagined she’d be here. She had no idea how to play an instrument, had had no desire to learn one. Not until she met her. The meeting felt inconsequential at the time, just another customer on the opening day of Sword and the Scone. No, no, who was she kidding. It was the most consequential meeting she’d ever experienced. Time slowed when Vipsania entered the little out of the way coffee shop. The world shifted and the sun started setting in the east, winter became hot and summer was full of snow. The moon was up at night and the sun hung high at midnight. Vipsania made the world complete. Wherever she walked there were colors she’d never noticed before, never understood. She played the violin and made the wind itself cry from its beauty. She was vibrant and alive, and she passed that life and exuberance unto her. She learned guitar for Vipsania. It was hard going, but she was determined. What was she if not? Lessons were painful as the callouses developed on her fingers, they were troublesome and tiring and exasperating. Chords and notes and so, so many chords. How was she supposed to remember all the chords, hundreds of chords to make even more melodies and songs and the list could go on and on. But it was all worth it. She’d played for Vipsania a few times, a few spring days in the park when the light of evening was just starting to dim and butterflies were plentiful, beneath the cherry blossom trees, white like snow. Vipsania had loved it, and so she had loved it. Confidence had never been a strong suit for her. Growing up in Benton how could it? But Vipsania gave her that confidence, that simple assurance that she was worth it.

None of that had really prepared her for this moment though. Well, that’s not true. It had and it hadn’t. They’d been dating now for two years. It was time for something to happen. If she were being honest with herself, she would have proposed that day in the coffee shop but that might have seemed a little… forward. She’d never been so certain of anything in all her life. Why did she have butterflies in her stomach then? Well, aside from the public performance and public declaration of love. The people of Minas Tirith were kind and accepting, but what if there were a few that were not and those few people decided tonight was the night to attend the Hall of Song? Well, even if that were a problem, she and her bride to be would be leaving soon, taking up on a little farm in Anórien. She’d been in contact with the former occupant for weeks now, preparing all the details and logistics. It was time. She missed her roots. The city was fine, full of light and life, and it was full of Vipsania. But soon Anórien would be full of Vipsania too. They’d talked about it, but Vipsania had no idea what she was planning. Her parents had helped her preserve the surprise, and Ystr, too. She felt it was the right time. Minas Tirith was a place for new folks. She’d had her time now. What new souls would occupy her rooms, her shop? Time could only tell.

She took another deep breath. She could hear the low murmur of a gathered crowd. The butterflies returned. Public performance was not one of her favorite past times, but the occasion called for it. Walpurga touched the frets of the guitar, guiding fingers along musical steel string. It was an old instrument, a secondhand instrument with uncounted years already etched into its wood. Some people name their swords and axes, she named her guitar: Súruquilya, Wind and Color.

It was time. The longer she put off the performance the more nervous she would become. Another deep breath…

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
In the Audience of the Main Stage
(Open)

Walpurga, when they met, had no idea how to hold a guitar let alone play one. And yet, after two years, two blissful years, she was about to perform at the Hall of Song. Vipsania had performed here in the past and knew the nerves her Walpurga must be feeling. She could vividly recall her own first time, she had so many butterflies she thought she was going to float away, instead she just threw up in her mouth. Not ideal, but at least none of it escaped her lips. Walpurga had been cagey about tonight’s performance, more so than her usual reticence. That could only mean one thing, something big was going to happen tonight. Suddenly, sitting amidst the audience, Vipsania became very nervous, likely more nervous than her girlfriend about to perform a song. What song would it be? Walpurga had been very secretive about it, she’d been secretive about a lot of things lately. She’d managed to sus some things out, but not the song. She’d managed to sneak bits and pieces of the song, an eavesdrop here, a half second glance at sheet music there. It was all enough to add up to nothing Vipsania could recognize. Had Walpurga created an original composition? Despite her onset of nerves, Vipsania was proud.

There was something big Ystr had let slide though, she thought smugly. A farm in Anórien. A tiny little plot, just enough for two people and a handful of animals, maybe even some crops when the seasons were right. She blushed reflexively. Her girlfriend bought her a farm. When one’s girlfriend of two years buys a farm and goes to great lengths to conceal that fact, it could only mean one thing.

Two could play at that game, then. Ystr couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but Krittithee and Zoë, Ystr’s wife, were much better at keeping secrets. Zoë herself had gone to the farm to check it out, to make sure the kitchen at least was up to her exacting standards. If a home had a bad kitchen, it would have a bad marriage. Fortunately for Vipsania, Zoë came back verily green with envy. It was time to fill the place with animals now. That was were Krittithee came in. He had connections all over Gondor and beyond. There was no way the man was a simple restauranteur. No way. That, however, was a secret for another day, another time. He bought animals to fill the farm, the best. Pigs (Walpurga’s favorite), rabbits (Vipsania’s favorite), goats, and some chickens. Krittithee knew, too, exactly the breeds to get and who to get them from. By the time Walpurga revealed her secret, to which Vipsania would act flabbergasted and amazed, the place would be a veritable city of animals.

A hush was beginning to fall over the crowd. Vipsania realized she was holding onto the arm of her seat like a vice. Was she really that nervous? She licked her lips, they were dry as a summer afternoon. Why was she so nervous? It was Walpurga performing this mystery song. Sympathetic nerves? That sounded like nonsense, so it was probably true.

Suddenly the place was silent. Vipsania, taken off-guard, hiccupped. The sound had a strange echoing effect. The acoustics of this place were wild, eldritch, and unexplainable. Architecture was never an interest of hers, but she assumed it was some sort of clever trick, the way the walls made sound move, herding it from one area of the auditorium to the other.

She was distracting herself. She closed her eyes, let her thoughts slough off momentarily, and took a deep breath.

The curtain opened…

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
Outside the Main Entrance
(Open)

Draugûrdaer watched from outside the Hall of Song. He was a good boy, even if he wasn’t doing what he had been told. Both Walpurga and Vipsania had told him to stay at home, but well, he couldn’t do that. What dog on earth would have stayed at home under these circumstances? Only dogs that had no sense of loyalty, or a sharp enough nose.

There was something in the air, something that told Draugûrdaer that tonight was going to be a very important night. The air smelled different; it smelled like expectation. What did expectation smell like? Well, it smelled like expectation. It was not the answer a human might want to hear, but it was an answer a dog was able to give. Humans were so limited in their understanding of things. Even though both his humans were very sharp, very intelligent, they could not see, smell, or hear all the things he could. He knew things that he could not explain, he understood things most dogs, loyal to the end, would never understand. Most dogs, though, had not been charged by Huan himself to look after a human. Walpurga didn’t know that of course. Even if he could have communicated that to her, she would not have understood why. Draugûrdaer himself was not sure of the why. Only that it must be done. So, here he was. Watching over her, protecting her.

Tonight was a momentous night. He knew that instinctively. Both Vipsania and Walpurga had been all a tizzy this afternoon, buzzing like bees back and forth. Walpurga must have tried on three different dresses, three more than she’d ever worn in the entire time he’d been watching over her. Vipsania tried on five, which was five less than she normally tried before decided. Walpurga examined her guitar so much today, fiddling and staring at it that Draugûrdaer thought she was about to eat it. It would not make sense on any other day, but today was very different.

That was why he couldn’t stay at home. If he stayed at home during Walpurga’s performance tonight, he would not have been a good dog. And Draugûrdaer was the best of dogs.

He growled at a few passing rangers, dressed in militaristic finery that made them look like little boys. He did not like the rangers of Minas Tirith. They did not like him either. The wolfhound husky mix was an enormous dog, nearly the size of a small pony (he’d let a few children at the coffee shop ride around on his back so they could giggle and have a good time), and rangers were naturally skittish, overly sensitive creatures. They were worse than cats in that way. They hissed and whined like cats though. These rangers didn’t hiss or why at him though, they crossed the thoroughfare, looking like they’d been cowed. He was satisfied with that response. Whoever they were or whatever they were doing, they would not be interfering with his humans tonight.

It was a very important night tonight. Something big and lifechanging was going to happen tonight, the wolfhound could feel that in his gut. He would have bet the juiciest, bloodiest tomahawk steak on that. He sniffed the air. Expectation and anticipation. The air was full of the smell. He liked it well enough, but he knew it was a smell that could go stale fast if things did not turn out well. Things would turn out well though, he knew this. He was hear to guard his humans after all. And he’d been charged by Huan to keep them safe from anything and anyone.

He wondered, as time wore on that night, who else might show up. Surely someone would interrupt or interject something about a giant hound being too close to the Hall of Song, unappreciative of his talents both in guardianship and song (he was quite talented of course but his talents were never fully appreciated by those around him). His thoughts drifted to the skunk siblings, his other charges, tiny balls of black and white energy. Danger kittens. They loved and trusted him, otherwise he might have been sprayed countless times. They were skittish, but they were also willful. They too had been admonished by Walpurga to stay at home, but they were even worse listeners than Draugûrdaer himself. He sniffed the air absently, no, no sign of skunk, but that didn’t mean they weren’t about, just that they were being careful. He’d search for them, after.

Right now though, something was about to happen inside…

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
On the Main Stage
(Open)

The curtain opened and the world changed around her. The auditorium was split into a chimeric sky of black and white, she saw faces in the crowd but each was veiled in shadow, only half visible from her elevated position. She scanned the crowd. Each face was unique, filled with stories and worries. Their eyes told stories their mouths never could, and the eyes would never shut up the way the mouth would. They never clammed up and refused to give a secret. They were open, honest, and (more often than naught) terrifying. The eyes told stories that not every listener wanted to hear. There were hundreds of eyes on her tonight, watching hers, trying to gauge who and what she was. Minas Tirith was a grand city, a city so filled with people that getting lost in the hubbub was more a certainty than a possibility. It was a place where identity might go to die, like an oliphant graveyard (not that Walpurga believed in those). Yet, standing here, on a stage with a named guitar and a song fairly ready to rip it’s way out of her stomach, she felt intact, whole. She felt like Walpurga. Her eyes found what they were looking for: they found the soft jade eyes of her Vipsania.

She began to strum without preamble. Her performance tonight was not for the madding crowd, it was not for the critics. It was for her. It was for Vipsania. They would forget about her as soon as they left the theatre anyway. Better to get straight to the point. Her fingers moved across the fretboard with practiced purpose, yet not without the tiniest flaws and inconsistencies that gives music personality and life.

Her voice was smooth, intense as an inferno but soft as a Minas Tirith Summer Morning.

I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire
You come to me, come to me wild and wild
When you come to me
Give me everything I need

Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams
Speak a language of love like you know what it means
MMm, and it can't be wrong
Take my heart and make it strong, baby

You're simply the best
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I've ever met
I'm stuck on your heart
I hang on every word you say
Tear us apart
Baby, I would rather be dead

In your heart, I see the star of every night and every day
In your eyes, I get lost, I get washed away
Just as long as I'm here in your arms
I could be in no better place

You're simply the best
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I've ever met
Ooh, I'm stuck on your heart
I hang on every word you say
Don't tear us apart, no, no, no
Baby, I would rather be dead

Each time you leave me, I start losing control
You're walking away with my heart and my soul
I can feel you even when I'm alone
Oh baby, don't let go

Ooh, you're the best, ooh
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I've ever met
Ooh, I'm stuck on your heart
I hang on every word you say
Don't tear us apart, no, no
Baby, I would rather be dead

You're the best
Ooh, you're simply the best
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I've ever met
I'm stuck on your heart, baby
I hang on every word you say
Don't tear us apart, no, no, no
Baby, I would rather be dead

Oh, you're the best
You're better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I've ever met
Ooh, you're the best

The song could have been played with wild and unrestrained exuberance, full of storm and thunder, or it could be played as she had, subdued but earnest. Each style had its value and its place, its seat in the pantheon of song. She preferred the softer, quieter version. It was intimate, it pulled at her soul. It was calming, a cellar in a great whirling tornado, a place where the howling of mundanity and responsibility held no sway. It was where Vipsania was, the place where Walpurga wanted to spend each waking moment from now until her hundredth year. Life before had been fine, difficult, but fine. Now, now it was sparked with joy, she woke with giddiness and excitement. She knew dark times might lie ahead, but with Vipsania she could face them. She looked at those calming jade eyes and whispered so softly not even her own years could catch it. “I love you.”

She didn’t hear the crowd’s response. Whether they booed or cheered she knew not, nor would she have cared either way. Vipsania was smiling, she was blushing.

The song was a success.

(OOC:Song Credits: "The Best" by Tina Turner, specific inspiration for this post comes from the Noah Reid version from "Schitt's Creek)

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
In the Audience of the Main Stage
(Open)

She looked amazing on stage. The light hit her and exploded in showers of gold and silver. Her aura radiated around her. The way she moved on stage, on catspaws, it was as if she was the source of the light. Walpurga would never have admitted it, but she had a dancer’s grace. She hid it behind a clumsy, self-deprecating demeanor. Her black locks flowed like a stolen patch of midnight, wrapped in ribbons the same deep-sea blue as her eyes. They sparkled with a vibrance that belied her nerves. Vipsania’s breath caught when Walpurga came on stage. Yes she’d seen her only a few minutes before the performance but, well that was before the stage lights hit her and transformed her, stripped away the awkward, gawkishness that Walpurga protectively wrapped herself in. On stage was no less than one of the great, ancient spirits of the age before the sun. Surely, Walpurga was something more.

Then came the song. The song. Oh, that song. It was a good thing She was seated; she felt her limbs grow weak as Walpurga began to strum, her fingers dancing with the same hidden grace. That song, that song, oh that song! Vipsania had heard bits and pieces, here and there, but the sum was so much greater than the parts that the parts themselves looked like fireflies next to a blaze. Walpurga’s voice was soft, but it commanded the room, it was warm, with a glow all its own. Vipsania felt a catch in her throat. That song, oh that song. She listened, fingers digging into the arms of her seat. The man next to her looked at her for a moment, his eyebrow raised protuberantly. She ignored him. She ignored everything. An earthquake could have ripped the city apart in that very moment and Vipsania would not have even felt the slightest tremor. Walpurga stood at the center of the world, she was the earth, the moon, the sun, and all the stars. And she was looking at Vipsania, she was looking at Vipsania in a way that made her want to crack open and spill out all over the floor. No one could have ever made Vipsania feel like that, beloved and terrified. Love, in fact, was a surreal thing, a sublime thing that made no sense in the emotions it utilized within the human heart. Her stomach was all atwitter, a hundred butterflies of orange, pink, and rose ready to burst out of her, she felt on the verge of screaming and crying and laughing. Love. That song, oh that song.

This was the woman that Vipsania wanted to be with for the rest of her life. As often as she felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, she never wanted to be separated from Walpurga. Never, never, never. They were made for each other, they fit better the most bespoke key and lock. Whether it was hosting a party in the sixth circle or slopping for pigs in Anórien. They would be together and that was all that mattered.

Vipsania finally felt the heat in her face. She was blushing. When had she started blushing? The blush felt like a furnace door had opened. The crowd was applauding uproariously. Tears began to stream down Vipsania’s face. She wanted to clap but she couldn’t the emotional weight of the song so heavy that all she could do was watching Walpurga and her deep-sea blue eyes. She blinked away tears, smiling broadly. She was shaking. Walpurga mouthed “I love you” and in an outpouring of absurd emotions, love overriding her senses, she laughed. She laughed nearly to the sound of the applause still going on around her. “I love you too” she mouthed and did it again and again. Walpurga’s eyes glittered too, making her eyes look like sparkling sapphires.

This moment would last forever in Vipsania’s memory. No matter how old she became, no matter what happened in the future, this moment would matter the most. It would be the first thought in the dark of pre-dawn and the last thought before senility and everything in between.

The world lay ahead of them.

She wiped her eyes and blew Walpurga a kiss.

[The Good Hunter]

Wind and Color: A Final Walpurga Tale
Up in the Rafters Above the Main Stage
(Open)

This was great, absolutely fantastic. No one suspected they were here, not a single person. Ecthelion snickered to himself. He was clever, the cleverest skunk to ever set foot in Minas Tirith. It did not really occur to him that he and his siblings might be the only skunks in Minas Tirith, but even if it had, the bold claim would have remained. No one could have coordinated as seamless an escape from Mamma’s house as he, and no one could have avoided detection in a city so full of tall people. Ecthelion was the best. Sally and Pignin agreed. They were the skunk sibling trio, and they would not be denied! They didn’t know what it was that Mamma and Vipsy were doing tonight, but they knew it had to be something big. Why else would they have told the trio to stay inside tonight? Parents try to be sneaky like that, trick their children into thinking they’re not doing something fun, when, in reality, they are doing the funnest thing of all. There was just a question of what that fun thing was. Ecthelion had been the first to suggest they escape; he was the oldest so naturally the leadership role fell to him. Sally was the last to come round. She was a natural rule follower, but her siblings still loved her. It took nearly ten whole minutes to convince her that tonight was the night to break rules. Ten minutes! In the life of a young skunk, that’s just about an eternity. But none of that mattered now because they were all there, together. It took the most sneaking that Ecthelion could muster. Not only did they have to avoid all the people of Minas Tirith, they didn’t like skunks here much for some reason, but they had to avoid Draugûrdaer, Mamma and Vipsy’s protector. He was big, the hugest, the lorgest dog that every was. He had an excellent sense of smell and always seemed to know what they were planning, even before they did! He was going with Mamma and Vipsy, well, sort of. He was supposed to watch them and make sure they didn’t get into any trouble at home, He’d left only a few minutes after them. That was what convinced Sally to come, if it was important enough that Draugûrdaer was sneaking out then it was important that Mamma’s three favorite children went as well.

The Hall of Song, not that any of the skunks knew that was its name, was a very big place filled with people. So many people that Ecthelion wasn’t sure he was going to be able to sneak himself and his siblings inside. There were so many smells, so many smells! Everyone assumes things about skunks and senses of smell, but they are, of course, all wrong. The three little skunk siblings all had excellent senses. That was how they found the alleyway, filled with refuse of all sorts and levels of decay. Pignin nearly abandoned the quest to investigate all the smells. Ecthelion had to admit it was very, very tempting, but in the end, it was far more important to see what Mamma and Vipsy were doing here. There were so many people! Mamma didn’t like this many people, she was very shy and introverted, surely a place as crowded as this would have made her want to crawl under the bed. Right? It was a mystery that needed to be solved.

In the alleyway was a storm drain, a small stone outlet that allowed water from the top of the building to flow to the bottom and into the sewer system. It was just wide enough, just barely, to fit a skunk. Sally nearly balked, it was too small, it was smelly, she was going to get stuck. But Ecthelion, the good big brother, assured her that it was not so. He would go first to show her that it was possible, he was bigger than her after all, if it was large enough for him, it would be large enough for her.

He was very nearly incorrect. The size of the water drain was not consistent the entire way up. Near what he assumed was the top, the pipe narrowed, nearly enough to squeeze him tight. He panicked for a moment, fearing that he would be stuck here forever, his little sister and brother left all alone in the world. But he persevered, he crawled inch by inch until he was through the squeeze. It was not an easy climb, it was very dark and cold and wet, but it led him all the way to the roof of the building.

Sally and Pignin followed, a little slower. They made it through the squeeze much easier than he and made sure to tease and point that out to him.

They were on the roof now, nearly the entire city was below them. They were so high up! Sally was certain that if they climbed to the top of the city they could touch the clouds, looking out right now, Ecthelion agreed with her.

They were on the roof, part one of the plan had been a success. Well, part six really, there were many parts to this plan, from Mamma’s House to here. It was a long way, but they were nearly done. Surely there was a door or a latch or something that led to the roof from the inside. Surely. People liked to watch the stars from roofs. Mamma and Vipsy loved to go to Vipsy’s mamma’s house and go on the roof. They would have picnics up there, bring their instruments, or just watch the sky go by. The skunks, as small as they were, would often join them on these outings

They sniffed and investigated the roof for several minutes, spreading out all over the large roof. It was much larger than their own roof or even Vipsy’s mamma’s! It might take them an hour or more to sniff the whole thing. They didn’t have that sort of time though! Whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon. They needed to find a way down. What if they missed what Mamma was going to do? What if they went all this way, braved all those city circles, bypassed all those lazy guards, snuck passed all those green becloaked rangers, tricked that candlestick maker, for nothing?

The thought was a horrifying one, and one they all shared. Ecthelion could smell the anxiety and desperation that came from not just himself but his siblings as well. They all wanted, no, needed to find a way in!

Ecthelion would not let his fears distract him! He motioned to Sally and Pignin. They were all tired and stressed, eager and confused. This could not be the time they failed to get in somewhere. They were the skunk siblings! The greatest escape artists in all of Minas Tirith! One giant building was not going defeat them!

Ecthelion stamped on the ground with his paws. Given the size of the building, he did not think he could bring it down, nor did he want to, given Mamma and Vipsy were inside. Still, this building needed to know who was boss.

They sniffed collectively for another five minutes, moving east to west when they find a trap door. It was nothing more than an old piece of wood with some iron studs keeping it together. It looked waterlogged and ready to go. Ecthelion snickered, his laughter spread to his siblings as they all used their noses to lift the piece of wood and slither inside, one after another.

They found their way to the rafters; it was not a hard task once they were inside. The light was much less in here, but they were skunks and not having lots of light to see by was never going to stop them. They had defeated a giant music hall; a lack of light (and some poorly placed cobwebs) was not even going to faze them.

There were people below, so many people. A hum of conversations, none of them about skunks up in the rafters, drifted about like smoke. They moved through the shadows unseen, like three little ghosts. Ecthelion led the way, testing each beam to make sure it would hold the weight of his siblings.

They settled above the stage, far above it, but close enough to recognize faces. They all saw Mamma straight away; she was on stage with her guitar with all the faces of the people in the audience on her. She looked wonderful, but she always did. She was Mamma. It took a moment to find Vipsy, she was in the crowd, watching Mamma play her guitar and singing. Mamma could sing! Instinctively, all the skunk siblings knew this but to get to hear it and see it was quite another thing. Vipsy liked to sing and play a violin, she would dance and run and climb up buildings as she played. Mamma was much more reserved, as she sang, she stood still. That was how they all found Vipsy, Mamma was looking directly at her. Their eyes were locked.

All three skunks watched, enraptured by their Mamma’s music. It cast a spell over the entire building. It was a very good idea to sneak out and watch. A very good idea indeed.

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta and Iole Ishen
A little light Evening Entertainment. For fun. And for friendship.
Set in September - Open.

“I’m fairly certain we’re not meant to be in here ..”

Iole ought to have been suspicious when he offered to walk her home. If it had been a stranger, she would never have even entertained the notion. But knowing .. actually, she ought to have known better with Unalmis as well. She certainly knew that trespassing was bad, despite all her friend’s insistence that the doors had not been locked, which meant that it was not breaking and entering. It was only entering, and that was not a crime. He said. Still dubious, she was rather more concerned with letting him go forth unsupervised than she was worried about either of them getting caught. Or worse, both of them .. How had he ever .. no, no. She knew exactly how he had managed to talk her into coming .. two circles further than where he had promised to escort her. This had been a definite mistake. But he was very hard to say no to. The young woman glanced from one side to another of them, before making the further grand mistake of raising her eyes high. The vast domed ceiling filled her with awe, awe in the sense of wonder and intimidation. Nal’s hand making contact with hers, stole her attention back from the grandeur of it all, but she remained wide-eyed.

“Trust me, will you ?” he said, in that way he always did. “This is important,” he had decided and she knew better than to try and debate the matter. Best to simply get whatever he had set his mind on this time over with, as soon as ever possible. So that they could get out of there, and far from any risk of trouble ...

“Wow,” the young man had stalled, long enough to admire their surroundings himself now.

“Yes, it is .. extremely wow. And now you’ve seen it so ..” she agreed, turning foolishly to revel in that wow for just a moment. When she turned back, he was not where she had left him. “Nal !” she called out, as loudly as she dared to. With no wish to disturb the scene that stood so far removed from anything they were accustomed to. “No ! Don’t ! Get down ! Come on ..”


It was far too late for to think better of it now. Unalmis had chosen to selectively hear her say ‘don’t get down’ .. even as he had strolled across and sat down then upon the front edge of the stage. This managed, he let both legs dangle with a stupidly satisfied look on his face. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Iole checked that they were still alone. There were lights .. which of course he’d set to light. And when she had protested, he had only pointed out they might very well have an accident if they couldn’t see where they were going. This was such a bad idea. Hastening over to try and catch his foot with her raised arm from below, the young woman glanced up, to note her friend’s head was bowed, hands resting in his lap. When she whispered his name, it was as though he did not seem to see her.


“Have you ever felt like nobody was there ?” **

Unexpected. What was he .. was he .. singing ? Iole fell back onto her heels where she stood, completely taken by surprise. “What are you doing ?” she hissed. It didn’t help at all.

“Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere ?”

He wasn’t asking. He was remembering. She knew those words as well as he did. Trevadir had composed the song. She knew the meaning of those words. She knew this tune. She didn’t know at all what he was doing though ..

“Have you ever felt like you could disappear ?”

“Nal. Please ..”

“Like you could fall, and no one would hear ?”



He leaned an arm back on either side to support him as he reclined then, throwing back his head so that the words were aimed at the ornate canopy far above.

“Well, let that lonely feeling wash away
Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay ..”

“Someone is going to hear you !” she interjected, as though it would make any difference. Why, oh why had he never grown out of getting them into trouble ? They were going to be in so much trouble ..

“'Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand
You can reach, reach out your hand ..”


He was literally reaching out his hand, now. Extending and flexing all the fingers on that hand, to encourage her join him. The young woman braced where she stood and resolved to hold her ground. Whatever this was …

“And oh-oh, someone will come running
And I know, they'll take you home ..”

The song fell away as the prompt intruded. “Come on, Leelee. You know you want to ..”


She most certainly did not .. want to. Not outside of dreams, not where there were repercussions. Undaunted, he watched her shaking her head, he waited for her to rise up regretfully from the seat which she had only hovered over, unsure if she dared to sit. He knew .. even before she came over, even if she were as slow as though these were her first steps ever .. only to shake her head at him. She found her way onto the stage in his wake, convinced that she was only going to drag him away.


“Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry you
When you're broken on the ground
You will be found.”

Still he sang, as easily as if he had been speaking to her, ignoring the uncertain expression that was her response. Iole had no idea what to do with her face. And still he would not stop. Dedicating time and practice to an instrument like Trevadir did, was very beyond the patience of Unalmis, let alone the learning to read an entirely other language to understand quite what and how and when the sound should work to sound .. perfectly. But noise, and attention, Nal certainly had no problem with.


“So let the sun come streaming in
'Cause you'll reach up and you’ll rise again
Lift your head and look around
You will be found ..”


Against her best efforts Iole fell into cahoots with it all, in the end. Fighting it was doing nothing useful anyway and had he not told her a thousand times ? If you’re going to be nervous anyway, might as well do something worth being nervous about.

“You will be found,” she sang back. Meekly. She’d heard the boys messing around with the lyrics before now. Enough times to recall the chorus at any rate. With a shake of her head that she could not believe she was even entertaining .. this. Was this supposed to be fun ? She was terrified ! Somebody was going to find them. Somebody was going to come running alright. They were going to be arrested !

“You will be found,” he repeated back to her. Before they took the last one together. “You will be found.”



A slow clap of footsteps were no applause at all and yet the only audience which had come across the impromptu performance.

“Well,” Iole tucked in her lower lip as Nal seized her hand and led her down off the stage to meet their critic. “I think we have been found ..” she muttered, so embarrassed. He did not look surprised, least of all shaken by their discovery at all.

---

“What is the meaning of ..?” the shadow began. “Do you have any idea what time it is ? You can’t just wander in off the streets you know ? There are protocols. You have to reserve the auditorium for rehearsals if .. Let’s start with who are you, shall we ?”

The two young people waited for the onslaught of questions to stall, so that there might be chance to answer any of them. Iole was not exactly sure what she could say at this point. She had more questions than answers herself. Fortunately, or maybe not, for her, Nal rarely had a problem wondering what to say.

“We are the auditory advisors, for the Trust,” he shrugged. “Come to test out the acoustics, for the what-have-you .. , the benefit”

Their inquisitor removed and cleaned his eye glass while he regained his composure. “And for whose benefit .. would that be ?”

Iole cast blue eyes toward the floor and fought a want to flee. But her hand was in her friend’s grasp and she could not be afraid. He was certainly not afraid. Why oh why was he not afraid ?

“Why for the benefit of widows and orphans of course,” was the apparently obvious answer. Unalmis offered a shock which suggested he was the one who ought to have been surprised. “The trust is a charity which recognises the needs of our nation’s widows and orphans. That’s why .. ”

“And who exactly runs this ‘Trust’ For the widows and the orphans ?” the enraged ‘janitor’ or well, he might as soon have been anybody really. He had not introduced himself at all, Unalmis observed and so maintained his stance. “You ?” the man all but exploded, in disbelief, after glancing the pair up and down.

“Oh no. Gosh. That would be ridiculous,” Unalmis all but laughed, and Iole smiled, awkwardly beside him. “Me ?” the young man shook his head. “No. Our director .. directors ..are ... excessively talented musicians. They are very very busy of course. So I .. that is, we, are here on their behalf. To assess if your arena ..?”

“Theatre ?” his friend whispered helpfully close to his ear.

“Thankyou,” he grinned, with almost an ‘ahah’ for having cajoled her into participating, as he turned to take in Iole’s face. An eyebrow was raised in amusement before the lead trespasser remembered the protest facing their unauthorised presence. “Theatre,” Nal corrected his explanation accordingly, and cleared his throat, to return to meeting their enquirer face on. “To assess if it will be adequate .. for their charity benefit performance.”

“Well,” the resident narrowed his eyes. “I have never heard of … anything until now, about any of this. You will have to give me the details so that I can meet with your directors in person and discuss the specifics ..”

“Oh of course. Naturally” Unalmis nodded agreeably. “If you have scroll and ink, I can write down all relevant name and contact details ..”


Of course the Ranger had not come prepared with such materials himself. And of course, the other fellow naturally had them about his person. He might have been Lieutenant Brian’s brother .. or perhaps even some other trespasser, having his very own joke at their expense .. who could say ? Nonetheless, he allowed for the two young people to depart, and glanced over the given contact details .. thoughtfully.

---

“Tell me,” Iole almost tripped over the front step as they made good their escape. “Did you have us come up here with this benefit your true motive the whole time ?” she narrowed her eyes in perfect mimicry of the man they had fled from. “Or did you just make that up on the spur of the moment ?” she had to know.

“What do you think ?” Nal only grinned.

“I think .. he’s going to kill you,” was the young woman’s honest opinion. “They’re both going to kill you. Nal,” she tried rather undecidedly to take her hand out of his, but still made the impetuous fool face her at least. “You can’t just go about volunteering people for things they don’t even know about.”


“You were the one who said he’s all excited about the theatre,” was the unfazed retaliation. “He’s been going on and on about it. You said ...”

“I did not say for you to do this !” she wanted to make very very clear. “And why did you go and get me involved in ..”

“You were the one who keeps going on about getting him to speak to GrammyU,” was his answer. “She will love this. She can help him with costume ideas ! And Eryn is forever saying about the state of that orphanage ..” a shrug. “I just thought ..”

“You didn’t think ..” she frowned.

“I know, I know. Not my strong suit. But really, I don’t see what the problem is.” Unalmis twirled Iole where she stood, and then she did break his hold on her, stepping back a little determinedly. As though she had to decide whether she would take offence. “Its something they’ll both enjoy,” he pointed out, as though to convince .. her at least. “And.. well, if they really truly don’t want to do it, they have only to say so. They have only to say no ..”

“To the widows and orphans ?” Iole’s tone was weary and doubtful.


“Trevadir would never disappoint the nation’s widows and orphans,” Unalmis corrected her gravely, before raising up both hands before him, in apparent surrender. Though he did not stop nor show the slightest remorse “All I’ve done is sow the seeds, that’s it. Its .. an opportunity. Neither one of the two of them have a job at the moment, no purpose or excuse and .. well, they have loads of free time. They both want redemption, and recognition for you know .. doing good deeds. And they both love making music, bringing joy .. its a good cause ..”

The last of the dim lights was muted from the Hall of song, an encouragement if any more were required to have the pair cease their converse upon the very steps. It did not discourage Nal’s explanation. If anything, it was easier to express the next part of his confession without her seeing his face too distinctly.

“I got to thinking some about Ryn,” the young Ranger’s voice was quieter than it had been, as though he had been replaced in the sudden shadow of the street outside, by someone with more common sense. Though it seemed quite unlikely. ”How people, just like him, give their lives in service of this country all the time,” he made clear his thinking, the motive maybe ... “Ryndir, Amarthel, so many others I can’t even … Why shouldn’t there be a benefit to help those who they leave behind ? To prove we’ve not forgotten them. To celebrate the lives which won’t be brushed under some carpet of war. They were people and they mattered. And somebody should .. ”

Somebody should .. say. Something. He couldn’t say though, not about the recent murders. The debriefing had not left him, though he’d left the Headquarters since then, of course. He could not share it, not properly. It was difficult to speak of. This was .. the only way he could think of to react to it. To do something. It felt as though if ever there was something that needed doing, it might be the likes of this.


“Ryn would think it was a good idea,” he all but sulked as a conclusion.

“He would,” Iole admitted, not unhappily. “So why don’t you just bring the idea to Trev, yourself ? Then he and Macardil could consider it. In their own time.”

“Oh you know,” the excuses seemed prepared, and yet not far flung from reality. “He’d be all .. ‘modest and rubbish and ‘nobody would want to listen to me’ blah blah blah. He wouldn’t take the idea seriously if it just comes from me.” Nal kicked at nothing upon the street and then reached for his friend’s hands anew, both of them. “But if the Chairman of musicality or whatever he is called comes a-knocking, and supposing already in his head that they’ll do it … well, they might just believe it then, that there are people who believe in them. Because they’ll be hearing about it from people who know something about all that .. stuff”

“But i mean, you can’t just expect people to do what you want.” she reiterated, though, determined to be the voice of reason. Whispered as it might be, rather than raise up a ruckus on the street at this hour.

“Even its what they want ?” he rolled brown eyes. “Probably,” he relented. And then further.. “Possibly ? They just haven’t realised it yet. They just need a little help.”

“And are you going to ?” she demanded, regarding the young man rather seriously all of a sudden.

“What ?” he confused. “I already ..”

“Are you going to help ?” the young woman enunciated, as though he were an idiot and required it broken down. “You can’t just think up some wild idea and then hand over all the responsibility to people who never asked for it, and wipe your hands of it all. You started this …”


There was a moment, just a moment mind you, when Unalmis seemed as though he was absorbing all that Iole put to him. He glanced at his feet and seemed to be taking the time to mull it over. Then, as though the spell was broken, he began to walk away unconcerned.

“Why don’t we see if they even want to do it first ?” he supposed, the dusk concealing a hint of mischief, though it soon became evident. As he added, very offhandedly, “Honestly, Iole. I mean, you’re quite rushing ahead of yourself a little here, aren’t you ? They haven’t even said yet if they want to … ”


He knew instinctively to run, even before she began to give chase. But there was no real hurt in the ‘dispute’. They were as glad and merry as though they were still seven years old, pounding down the Circles and before long it was just another race. At any rate, he saw her home. A detour only, he would name it afterward. And what might come of it, if anything, would be up to others. It might come to nothing at all. Or something which might just make a difference. But that was not his decision to make. From small rocks cast, are avalanches begun. And just hopefully this one would do no damage. It was kindly meant at least, if somewhat optimistic. Time would tell.




(@Rillewen @Arnyn)

** Lyrics borrowed from and therefore credited to the song -‘You will be Found' ; from the musical, ‘Dear Evan Hansen’.

[Rillewen]

(private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha
Last week of August

It hadn't been all that long since Trev had learned about this magical place, the Hall of Song, and yet it was quickly becoming his favorite place in the city. The first time he had come with Macardil, and had been so awed by... everything, that he could hardly think of where even start making inquiries. What's more, he'd been rather stunned to learn that the place was actually within sight of the shop where his grandmother worked! While he had noted the fact, when coming here with Macardil, he had said nothing about it. Partly, because he was too eager to see the inside of this grand building.

In fact, he had been astonished to realize that he had probably seen this place dozens of times in his childhood, but back then, it had been in need of a little touching up, and there had been no sign to declare what it was. As a child, he had merely passed it by assuming it was some boring museum or library, and never gave it a second thought. How he regretted that, now!

But now he knew better. Not only that, he knew how to find it. And better still, there was no entry fee to go in, and he was thoroughly delighted by that. His friends, of course, had heard all about it by now, and he'd even made a point of pointing it out to Cali, today when he was walking her to work. She claimed she didn't need an escort, that her leg was fine, and she had no reason to be afraid anymore, but Trev couldn't help feeling a little protective. He had convinced her to 'swing by' along the way to the sixth circle, which actually meant going a little out of the way to get there, and then a little longer once he'd convinced her to step inside. Well worth it though, in his opinion.

But she was in a hurry, so he returned after he'd seen her safely to the armory doors. And so, he was back. Stepping inside, he inhaled slowly and deeply. There was a very distinctive scent of instruments lingering in the air, a fragrance that couldn't really be properly described, nor copied by anything else he could think of. There were multitudes of vases filled with flowers placed all over the hall, yet their perfumes couldn't quite mask that scent that Trev enjoyed. He strolled leisurely along the hall, looking around.

"Hello. Can I help you find something?" Someone asked.

Trev turned and smiled at the lady there. "Uh, well. I was just looking around, really." he admitted. "It's beautiful here, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." She smiled. "Do you play anything?"

"Yes," his smile widened. "Anything I can get my hands on, actually," he laughed lightly. "But primarily, the flute. Though, I would love to find out some information about an instrument my grandfather used to play."

"Oh? What sort of instrument is it?"

"Umm," Trev paused. "That's the problem. I don't know." He admitted awkwardly. "It's stringed, that's all I know."

"Ah.. well, we have a gentleman here who might be able to help. He's worked with stringed instruments for longer than you've been alive," She smiled. "If you go down this hallway," She led him to a door and pointed down the hall. "His workshop is the very last door on the left."

"Thank you!" Trev smiled as he set off down the hallway, hopeful that he might have a chance to get some answers at last.

[Rillewen]

(private)

Trevadir Thôrmaetha with Saelben
Last week of August

"Well! It's certainly been a long time since I saw one of these." The elderly musician declared, looking a bit surprised at the sketch he had been handed, shortly after Trevadir had introduced himself to the man.

"Do you recognize it?" He asked, feeling a flare of hope inside.

Saelben nodded slowly, smiling. "Indeed, I do, young man. Only ever knew of one person around here to play a zither."

"Zither? That's what it's called?" Trev asked, intrigued. It was a strange name, one he'd never heard before.

"That's right." Saelben confirmed. "Old friend of mine used to play one. He's been gone for a good many years now, but he used to bring his instrument in to me when he needed new strings or anything of the sort." He lowered the sketch, raising an eyebrow at the eager young man in front of him. "You said your grandfather owned this instrument?"

Trev was staring at him, a little wide-eyed. "Yes, sir. Was your friend.. by any chance.. named Oluion Felmë?" He inquired, with a slight tug on his heart.

"Indeed, that was his name!" Sealben smiled wider. "I suppose that was your grandfather, then?"

"Yes sir!" Trev grinned. "He died before I was born, but I've heard a lot about him. He really enjoyed playing, didn't he?"

"Very much." The old man smiled, leaning back in his chair, reminiscing about those old times. "We'd often sit here and talk for hours, unless he had something pressing at home he had to do. Right were you're sitting now, in fact!" He declared, as if that was some sort of exciting coincidence, despite this being the only other chair in the room.

Trev smiled though, trying to imagine what his grandfather might have been like. It felt a little strange to think of him sitting in this very spot, chatting with his friend while he worked on his instrument. His Zither. Such a unique name, but Trev kind of liked the sound of it.

"One time," Saelben laughed. "This was many years ago, of coures. But one time, he brought his little girl along with him. I suppose that'd be your mother? Anyway, I was putting some new strings on his zither, and she wandered off while we were talking. And when he realized she wasn't still with him, I never seen him panic so much! He took off up and down the halls, calling for her and fretting about what his wife would say when she found out he'd lost their child!" He laughed heartily at the memory.

Trev grinned, leaning forward with interest. It was interesting to hear a story about his mother when she was a little girl. She'd wandered off? She sounded a bit like himself, he thought with amusement. "So, what happened?" He asked with a laugh.

"Well," the old man grinned. "There was an orchestra performance going on in the main theater, and apparently she'd wandered in to watch that. But the attendant sent her away, and Olu was getting very frantic, until he finally found her, in one of the rooms way down the other hallway, talking to one of the singing instructors. Getting a lesson, no less!" He laughed. "Anyway, after that she begged him to let her take singing lessons, until he talked her mother into it. She was a sweet little girl, your mother." He added with a smile.

"Olu used to come down here and talk with me while she was having her lessons. It was a regular thing, up until he got sick anyway." He sighed. "After that, well, he often didn't feel up to coming out, and your grandmother would bring the girl to her lessons. I didn't see him very much after that, much to my regret. I think after a few years, they couldn't afford to let her continue the lessons." He concluded sadly.

Trev nodded slowly, saddened. He knew his grandfather had been sick for years before his death. "So, my mother took singing lessons here?" He asked, amazed. He frowned. His grandmother took her to her lessons. So, his grandma knew about this place. And she hadn't ever told him? She'd never mentioned knowing of anyplace where he could take lessons... there were plenty of things that his grandmother had told him over the years that he'd forgotten and hadn't paid attention to, but he knew that if she'd said anything about music lessons, he wouldn't have forgotten that. He was a little confused about that, but tried not to get too deeply involved in figuring out why she wouldn't have said anything to him.

"Oh, yes, and Olu claimed she had the most beautiful voice for singing," He laughed. "He might have been a bit biased, of course." He grinned. "But I heard her sing before, too. I agree, she sang beautifully."

Trev smiled faintly. "She did." He agreed softly, remembering from when he was little. His mother's singing was one of the few things that he remembered about her. But he kept quiet as he listened to Saelben talk and tell stories about different funny things that Oluion had said or done thirty years ago, or things that Oluion had told him about his family. Trev hardly noticed the time passing until he heard the bells tolling, and realized he'd been there for a several hours already, and it was getting late.

"Wow, I can't believe how much time has passed," He laughed. "Sorry, it's been great hearing all these stories, and I'd love to come back sometime, if you don't mind-"

"Absolutely!" Saelben agreed eagerly. "You know, I've worked on instruments in this workshop for many years, and I love doing it, but it's always a pleasure when someone takes the time to sit and talk with me. It gets a bit lonesome down here all alone."

Trev smiled. "I'll be sure to come by again, then. Perhaps," He hesitated. "If I could find my grandfather's.. zither?" He checked that he'd said the right name, and when Saelben nodded in confirmation, he went on, "and bring it to you, could you show me how it's supposed to be tuned?" He asked, hopefully.

"Hmm," The man took a moment to think. "Yes, I believe I might be able to help. I should have something around here somewhere," He took a moment to glance around the workshop, but seemed to decide it wasn't something he'd be able to find right away. "I'll dig around for it, so when you come back, I can try to have it for you? How's that sound?"

"Great!" Trev smiled, then stood and held out a hand to shake. "It's been great to meet you, sir. I'm pleased to meet an old friend of my grandfather's."

"Likewise, it's good to see his love of music has passed on to his grandson." He smiled, shaking Trev's hand. "Until next time, Trevadir."

As he left the Hall of Song, Trev's thoughts were caught up with all the tales about his grandfather whom he'd never met, and his mother when she was little, and feeling excited about the possibility of finally getting to learn how to play that instrument of his grandfather's. But first, he would have to find a way to get it, and he wasn't sure how to do that without going to talk to his grandmother. And he wasn't quite sure how to do that, yet. Especially after what he'd just learned, which troubled him somewhat. Sighing softly, he set off toward the sixth circle, to see if Cali was finished working yet so they could walk home together.

[Rillewen]

(tagging @Ercassie purely because of your own solo post, which inspired this one and is implemented into it somewhat lol)

Cleaning girl - Wisteria
September - Evening, after hours

The broom rested against the corner of the stage, forgotten for the time being. The girl who was supposed to be using the broom to sweep in between each of the many rows of seats out in the audience seating area, was, instead, involved in a private little performance of her own, up on the stage. Twirling and leaping across the platform in the near-dark, dancing to the sound of a grand orchestra heard only in her own imagination.

She had only a single lantern lit, for it could be easily moved along with her as she worked, to see where she was sweeping. It was much cheaper on the folks in charge of the grand Hall of Song, than having the entire auditorium/theater lit up while the cleaning girl worked. Which, as it happens, would have been even more costly for them if they had done that, since she was not actually working when she was supposed to be. But it was the only time she had, really, in which to freely dance on this wonderful stage! To pretend that she was a real, official ballerina.. which was her dream. She could not afford the costs of taking lessons, though she didn't let that stop her from spying on those who could, and learning what she could in secret.

“I’m fairly certain we’re not meant to be in here ..”

The young aspiring dancer was in the midst of a very slow, graceful, yet difficult Développé combination she had seen some of the advanced students practicing earlier in the week... when the sound of a voice startled her. She froze, just as she was straightening her leg into the air, out to one side. One arm stretched up, rounded, above her head, while the other was curved out to the side. She held her position for a moment as she listened, feeling the sweat trickling down her skin from all the exertion of holding this pose. An answering voice requested the first to trust him, and soon the sound of hushed (and sort of hushed) voices began to draw nearer, proving that whoever it was, they were definitely heading into the theater!

Wist returned her foot silently to the floor, breathing a little hard as she glanced around hastily, fighting panic. Was she about to get in trouble? Her bare feet hardly made a sound on the surface of the stage as she hurried to the front edge of the stage, snatched up her discarded shoes and her lantern, then turned the flame as low as it would go without being extinguished while she hastened off to one side of the stage, taking cover in the wings. And then.. she waited, anxiously. Who were they? She'd never heard their voices before. And to listen to them, she might almost think that the young woman was scolding a child, but the voice that came from the one being scolded was certainly no child.

As she stood in the deepest shadows, out of sight, Wist was almost as surprised as the young woman out there, when the young man began to sing. The words startled her slightly, but she felt drawn toward the singer. She inched a little closer to the edge of the curtain which hid her from view, wondering if she could sneak a look at them. They had lit some of the lights, it seemed, for it wasn't as dark out there as it had been, yet thankfully, that light had not crept as far as her hiding place in the wings.

“Someone is going to hear you!”

The singer's friend's persistent protests almost made Wist giggle, but she bit her lip and merely smiled to herself. Someone had indeed heard him, if Wist counted as 'someone'. She inched another step closer to the edge of the short curtain, cautiously peering around it. They didn't look like the sort of people who would be angry to be eavesdropped on, she thought. She hoped. And then, the young man burst into the chorus of the song.

Those words.. that song! She listened with great interest as he continued singing despite his friend's protests. It was a wonderful song, and she didn't want him to stop. She smiled softly, feeling as if the song could almost be directed at her. She'd never heard it before, but it was lovely. It was.. inspiring, or stirring, or something she couldn't quite put her finger on. And it made her want to dance along, to express the feelings stirring in her heart as she listened. She fought that desire, and instead clutched her shoes close to her chest as she stayed behind the heavy fabric, watching from the shadows.

After a little while, she began to feel tempted to step out into the open and let them know that she was here, and tell them that she found the song to be beautiful, and maybe talk to them, ask questions maybe... where did they learn that song? There was no music, but she could imagine what it might sound like, if there was. And she wondered who they were, and a great many other things.

But just as she was considering showing herself, she heard the ominous sound of approaching footsteps, same as they did. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat as none other than her boss made an appearance! The Hall's caretaker was a strict man, and did not approve of after-hour activities occurring in his domain at all. She had taken great risk in slacking off from her duties to dance on the stage, but it had been simply too irresistible. Now, her gaze darted over to the broom, forgotten in a dark corner, and hoped that he would not spot it.

As Wist ducked back deeper into the shadows, she listened to the pounding of her own heart while the strangers spoke boldly with the man, declaring their business here. Well, technically, it was more the young man who spoke boldly, but anyway.. when Wist heard what their purpose was here, her eyes grew round, and her eyebrows raised up in surprise. A benefit for widows and orphans? She risked a very careful peek out again, curious to get a better look at these people. She had never heard of The Trust which he spoke of, but she was very intrigued. Was there really such a thing? She suddenly liked these two even more after hearing that they were putting together some sort of thing to benefit orphans. While it didn't affect her anymore.. since it had been a few years since she'd called the orphanage 'home'.. it was nice to hear that there was someone out there who cared about them, and who wanted to help them. She smiled faintly as she continued to eavesdrop, until at last the two had departed from the theater.

After they had gone, Wist remained very still as she listened to the retreating sound of her boss grumbling as he put out the lights that the strangers had lit. After what felt like an eternity, she heard the sound of his footsteps retreating, at last. Once she'd heard the door of the theater close, she let out a soft sigh of relief before going to where she had set her lantern, further back. She raised the flame again so that she could see, then cautiously emerged.

The grand room was empty once again. Wist smiled as she slowly twirled out from behind the wings and onto the stage, with the lantern and her shoes still held in her hands. She happily waltzed toward the edge of the stage, and sat down to put on her shoes before hopping down to the floor below. While she would love to continue dancing, she really had to finish sweeping between all those rows of seats.. and she was only about half done!

So with a little sigh, she grabbed her broom and got back to work. Yet, she couldn't resist humming the tune from that song as she worked, and it wasn't long before her sweeping looked more like dancing after all... yet, somehow, the dust and dirt on the floor was gathered into an orderly pile, anyway, and deposited into a bin. After that, she had a few other tasks to finish before her work was done for the evening.

Even after she had finished her work for the night and had laid down to sleep, Wist was thinking about what she'd overheard, and wondering about the benefit and when it would be, and what sort of things would be in it. Would there be auditions? was it only for music, or would there be more stuff? She wondered how long it would be before this thing was made public knowledge, and if she would get in trouble for knowing about it before time... and many other things that flowed into her thoughts before she finally fell asleep.

[Arnyn]

(private)

|
December

"Your mistake cost you." The older woman's voice barely reached her ears, but that was a good thing. The two of them were in the middle of a crowd, filing in to listen to this evening's musical performance. If she could barely hear, then no one else would. But what was there to offer in response? She could feel the other, much more experienced woman's scrutiny. "Did it hinder your other assignments?"

She frowned, unhappy to give any kind of admission to anyone. Not even to the woman who'd taught her more than just a few expedient skills. This is the woman who had taught her how to interact with their mutual boss. How to stay - mostly - on his good side. "It has caused additional difficulties," she said levelly. Men did not like to see their conquests marred. And the few who had felt sorry, were not as eager anymore to - well. Close any deals.

"But you know better than to fail him again, yes?"

She nodded. She had no desire to be punished again. She wasn't sure if her shoulder would ever be quite the same, even though it was early in the healing process. Rolling it carefully, she winced.

Maren looked displeased. "He won't easily forget this, Jade," she said, some gentleness seeping into her tone. "Be careful."

"I will," she reassured Maren. "Promise."

They took their seats. Maren sighed. "I've put too much effort in you - you have made it too far - for things to go wrong now. When I saw you, all those years ago, a little girl, just a child, curled into his lap, as if he was planning on being a father." Her jaw clenched. "I thought you would not last for a year. Let alone twenty."

"He was never a father," Jade said coolly.

"He raised you."

"He messed me up," she countered, shrugging before touching her right hand to her left shoulder. Not that she was talking about the injury. "But. He gave me a life."

Maren snorted. "I suppose he did. At least I don't see any bruising on you now?" Nothing on those bare shoulders, nothing on what she was visible of the younger woman's upper chest and back...

"The worst ones are on my middle and lower back."

"Right. So it wouldn't cost him too much business," Maren immediately assessed. It earned her a curt nod. "You're lucky your client wanted to give you a second chance."

"Luck had little to do with it," Jade said, raising her chin confidently. "I worked for that chance."

For the first time, some feeling showed on the older assassin's face. "I am sure you did."

The lights were dimmed. They did not speak during the performance.

[Rillewen]

(Private, solo story thing)

Erynneth Raedor
Dec 24 (3 days after the Midwinter ball)
About Noon

It had been nearly four years since she heard the name Wisteria, and while Eryn had not exactly forgotten the friend she had made during the evacuation trip, she had lost touch with the girl upon their return to the city, and therefore the friendship had faded to mere memory. In fact, Wist had not joined the same wagon group on the return trip, and since many of the orphan children had ended up staying with the families who had taken them in during the crisis, Eryn had actually assumed Wisteria did, too. It had been a surprise to learn that actually, her old friend lived and worked right here in the city, only one level below where Eryn worked!

Eryn had some plans to meet someone for an early dinner later, but she had a few hours to kill between being done at the houses of healing for the day, and meeting with him. And, naturally, she was eager to reunite with this friend now that she knew where to find her, and she hoped that Wisteria would be just as happy to see her. A part of her had questioned why Wist never bothered to come look for Eryn upon her return to the city, since the other girl had known that Eryn lived on a dairy farm. How hard was it to find a dairy farm in the Pelennor? But then, Eryn also reminded herself not to judge, because couldn't remember if she ever told the girl which dairy farm.. and they were not the only one that existed. Besides, she did not know the other girl's situation. Maybe she'd been too busy to get a chance to go roaming around the Pelennor looking for dairy farms. Remembering that the girl was not used to being out in the wide world, Eryn wondered just how hard it would be for a city girl to find her way around outside the city walls. And, remembering how easily this city girl was fascinated by new things to see, and how frequently Eryn had had to stop her from wandering off during the journey to Lossarnach... yes, she could see why it might be difficult for Wisteria to locate Eryn after returning to the city, even if she did have a chance to go off searching for someplace she didn't know the name of. So yes, it likely would have been a difficult task, Eryn realized.

But, now perhaps they had a chance to start over. Eryn stepped inside the quiet building, glancing around. No one was here at the moment, it seemed. But she had learned that Wisteria worked here, and while she didn't know what hours she worked, she figured maybe she could find out, and either wait for her, or come back when she would be here. "Hello?" Eryn called, frowning slightly to hear nothing but silence in reply. And, a slight echo of her own voice returning to her from the empty hallway. Wasn't there anyone at the front desk? Information people, maybe?

Venturing further, Eryn wandered a little bit, peeking into this or that room. The place seemed completely abandoned, which she supposed was understandable, since it was still quite early in the day. But as she ventured further, she heard a noise. Was that a.. thud? Like someone falling? She frowned, hesitating, then ventured in the direction the sound seemed to have come from. Passing through a grand double door, Eryn found herself in a large auditorium, or theater, or the like. She blinked, looking around in mild awe at the grandness of the place. Rows upon rows of padded seats formed a semicircle, facing a stage. Eryn stood at the uppermost row, and to her right, there were stairs, no doubt leading up to the box seats for the richest spectators to sit during a performance. Down below, there was an orchestra pit just before the stage. Large, arched windows had their heavy drapes drawn back to let the midday sunlight stream in, providing enough light to observe a single dancer down on the stage.

Eryn's gaze scanned the room quickly before settling on the dancer, watching quietly as she twirled and leaped gracefully about the stage. After a few moments, she attempted another twirling move, lost her balance and crashed down to the stage. Eryn realized that was the sound she had heard; the girl falling down on the wooden stage floor. Wincing slightly in sympathy, Eryn watched her get back up, place her feet back into position, and try again. And fall again. Quietly as she watched, Eryn moved slowly down the aisle of seats to get closer to the stage, keeping close to the wall in hopes that the girl would not detect her movement and lose her concentration. There was something familiar about that girl, although she couldn't be certain, at this distance. She was so focused on watching the determined dancer struggle to get that twirl perfected, that she did not even notice a long-handled duster propped up against the wall at an angle. She gasped softly as she tripped, stumbling a bit as she tried to keep herself from crashing headlong down the rest of the downward-sloping aisle. The duster clattered against something in the orchestra pit, knocking some music stands over, but at least Eryn managed to catch herself on the back of a chair that was, thankfully, bolted to the floor. Yet, she didn't even have to look up to know that her attempts at not disrupting the dancer's practice had completely failed...

[Rillewen]

(Private, solo story thing)

Wisteria
Dec 24 (3 days after the Midwinter ball)
About Noon

It was the quietest time of the day, which made it the perfect time to steal a little bit of time on the real stage, for practice. Wisteria could only do so much up in the attic. Roomy as it was, there was a lot of clutter and things in the way, and while she had pushed everything off to the side as much as she could, there was still not as much room as she would like. Then there were certain boards that she had to be mindful not to step on, and so forth. Besides, the floor there had more chances for splinters, which meant she had to wear her shoes, which meant she wore her shoes out more quickly.

But the stage! She wanted to get as much practice time on this as she could possible manage. The highly polished wood was fitted so closely together, sanded to a fine finish, then painted with something that made it gleam... there were no splinters to worry about, here. She spun differently, here. She didn't need to wear her shoes, here. It was also very cold, here. At least, for her bare feet, it was cold. The rest of her was sweating from her exercise. She breathed hard from all the dancing she'd been doing. She had been at it for a little while now, and yet, she still could not quite get the double pirouette perfected. There must be some trick to it, right? But she had no one to ask, which was frustrating.

After falling yet again, Wist positioned her feet and arms just right. She bent her knees, focused on a specific spot, then propelled herself around into the spin, one toe 'glued' to her knee, trying her best to keep her posture straight and lifted. Whipping her head around to find that spot again. Then as she began to repeat the twirl.. she felt herself tilting too far to one side. Barely in time, she let her foot drop down and stumbled through a far-from-graceful landing, sighing in frustration. Almost simultaneously, a crash startled her. Green eyes widened as she gasped and whirled to see what she had done.. had she accidentally broken something, somehow?

Instead, her gaze landed first on the duster she had abandoned, leaned against the wall. Oops.. but, how had that fallen over? She had a quick second of puzzlement as she took in the sight of the music stands knocked over, then raised her eyes to the spot she had left the cleaning tool.. hadn't she had it propped so that it was caught against the window ledge or something, so it wouldn't fall?

But then.. as her gaze settled on the other girl who was standing there, the mystery was cleared up. "Oh.. I'm sorry!" She called out hastily, realizing that her carelessness must have caused the girl to trip or something. So, it wasn't Wist who had knocked the duster over. Thank the Valar for that... but was anything broken? Her eyes darted down to the musician's equipment again, anxiously trying to tell if it looked like there was any damage done. And.. would this girl blame her, if there was? She swallowed, realizing that the other girl could easily get her into a lot of trouble if she made any accusations. The light from the window shone from behind the other girl, so Wist could not see her very well. She hopped down from the stage, blushing lightly as she hurried over to pick up the duster. Although, as much as she was sweating from her dancing exertions, it could easily appear as if she were merely flushed from that. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left this here... I hope you didn't get hurt or anything?"

[Rillewen]

(Private, solo story thing)

Erynneth Raedor | Wisteria
Dec 24 (3 days after the Midwinter ball)
About Noon

"No, no, I'm sorry!" Eryn insisted, shaking her head as she went to pick up the duster. "I was trying so hard not to disturb you, I didn't see it..." They each ended up with one end of it, and as the two girls straightened, there was a little pause as they each looked at one another. Now that there was not a great distance between them, and the light was shining on her face, and she heard her voice... Eryn was sure that this was indeed her friend from all those years ago. "Wisteria?" She questioned, smiling.

Stopping to look more closely at the girl across from her, Wist's eyes widened in surprise. "Eryn!" She exclaimed happily, and moved as if to hug her before stopping herself as she recalled how sweaty she was. "Oh, uhh.."

Laughing, Eryn shook her head, then closed the distance and hugged her without caring. "Someone told me you worked here! I didn't know, I thought you'd stayed in Lossarnach.."

"No, I came back with Ms. Esme and the rest..." Wist hugged her friend for a moment, then stepped back with a big smile. "I'm so glad to see you! I didn't really know where your uncle's farm was, and then.. stuff happened, and I've been so busy, I just..."

"Oh, it's alright, I understand." Eryn hastened to assure her. It was about as she thought, then. She smiled, glancing around. "Sooo, wow. I remember you liked dancing around in the meadows and stuff whenever you could, but I never saw you dance quite like that." She mentioned, impressed. "That was beautiful. Is that your job? Are you practicing for a performance or something?"

Blushing lightly, Wist shook her head slightly. "No.. just um, taking a break from work." She cleared her throat and lifted the duster slightly, in explanation. "But thanks! I've learned so much since I've been here." She said with a bright smile. "Right now, I'm trying to perfect a double pirouette, and I'm like, this close to getting the second twirl, but I don't know what I'm doing wrong." She sighed in frustration.

"A double piro-what?" Eryn asked, confused but laughed lightly. "Whatever it's called, it looked really nice, except for the falling part."

Wist grinned. "Thanks. I'll get it eventually. So, how have you been?! I've thought about you a lot off and on, you know. I just.. it's hard to find any time to go exploring around the Pelennor, and.. I dunno."

"I've been good." Eryn smiled. "Our farm's doing well. And! Remember that calf you helped me take care of? She's got her own calf now, and gives the most milk out of the bunch."

"Oh! Yes! Wasn't her name.. uh, Poppy?" Wisteria asked, recalling the fun the two girls had had picking out a name together during the trip to Lossarnach, sitting together in the wagon with Eryn's aunt, petting the adorable newborn calf.

"Yes! Poppy, and her baby is a little orange-ish colored calf named Pumpkin," Eryn grinned. "I'd love for you to come out to the farm sometime and meet them!"

"I'd like that! I'll try to come out sometime, but you'll have to give me directions." Wist agreed eagerly.

"Absolutely, I will. I'd suggest we go today, but I have plans to meet someone later and I'd have to come all the way back up to the fourth in time to meet him, so we wouldn't have much time to be there. But I was hoping maybe if you'd like, we might be able to spend a little time together, maybe catch up with one another and all that. When do you get done with work?"

Wist hesitated, glancing around, then shrugged with a slightly sheepish smile. "Um. Well, I don't have an exact time that I start or stop my work, just.. um, I have to be done by the end of the day when my boss comes to check in and all that." She explained. "So, I can take a break now and come back to it later, I guess."

Eryn looked around, then recalled the music stands and things that had gotten knocked over. "Oh, right.. can't leave this stuff like that." She swung herself over the railing that separated the orchestra pit from the last row of seating, just like she would swing over a fence at the farm. After picking up the stands, she looked around to make sure nothing else needed picking up, before she joined Wisteria again. "I hope I got everything back like it goes." She said with a little grin.

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine.. they move stuff around to suit their needs all the time, I think." Wisteria shrugged.

"So, what more do you have to do before you're done here?" Eryn asked, eyeing the long-handled duster that Wist was clinging to, which looked like it might be a bit difficult to manage for such a slight-framed girl.

"Um, I've already swept and dusted down there in the pit," Wist glanced around, nodding to a broom and dustpan and regular-length duster, and other items that she had left near the base of the stage. "I need to sweep the rest of the floor around the seats and make sure the seats are clean, and finish dusting all the trimming and things up high that I can't reach... make sure there's no spiderwebs up in the corners and in the windows..." She listed a few other tasks that she had to finish before she would be officially done for the day.

Considering for a moment, Eryn nodded slowly. All of that would take her a long while to complete, by herself. "Well, is there any of that that I can help with?" Eryn asked, figuring that if they both worked at it, they could finish twice as fast, and then Wist would be done for the day.

Surprised, Wist looked at Eryn with wide eyes. "What.. really?"

"Sure. I've got nothing else to do right now." Eryn shrugged, smiling. "I could sweep while you dust, maybe? And then we can go from there to figure out the rest..."

"But... well, you wouldn't get paid for it," Wist warned her, unsure exactly about that.

"I'm not asking for any," Eryn laughed. "I figured we can talk and catch up while we work, and then if we get done early enough, maybe we could go to a park and do something more fun."

"Oh, that'd be great! Thanks so much, Eryn!" Wist's smile could not have been bigger at the prospect of having the whole rest of the afternoon free.

Both girls wore big smiles as they set about their selected tasks, chatting together as they worked. Eryn told Wist all about some of the goings on at the farm, and Wist told Eryn about her plans to be in an audition for a performance planned for the summer. It wasn't long before they were wrapping up the last couple of tasks. The theater room was spotless, ready for a performance that was to take place in a couple of days, and the backstage area was neat and organized, everything cleaned and polished and ready for the performers and musicians to give their entertainment to the crowd.

Done with their work in less than half the time it would have taken Wist to do it alone, both girls wrapped up in their outer garments, then set off outside together, still chatting merrily about this and that, as if they had never been parted by the aftermath of a war.

[Karis Ziranphel]

private

Karis Ziranphel
Early December

The building was full of activity on the lower levels that afternoon, with rehearsals bleeding voices out into the hallway in muted spurts of sound. Ziranphel smiled at the sounds as she pushed open the doors and then made her way through the building until reaching the stairs that she wanted up past the second floor to the upper level. It was quiet there in the music archives, and she was delighted to find that she had the place to herself. It felt less intrusive to hum out the phrasing of notes as she searched for a new piece.

Unslinging the case from her back, she undid its straps and removed her small walnut harp with its simple but elegant carving along the soundboard and throughout the body. She had made a strap for it as well so that she could stand and play it, but for now she set it on one of the desks. From previous forays into the archives she had found the sections for various individual instruments, solos and duets, after some searching. Only once during her time in the city had she participated in a larger orchestra and needed to avail herself of those scores. This time she was looking for something special to play, whether a resetting of an older piece, or something new. Music would reflect the sentiment of joy and light.

Flipping through the selection of harp music, she looked both at first lines and sometimes longer selections, humming a line or two here and there. A couple looked promising, and she brought them back to the desk to play through quietly on her harp. The first started well but turned dark rather than retaining the lilting strains at the beginning, and she turned to the second. That too didn’t quite suit, and it was back to the shelves of music. Twice more she went through the process, setting aside one that she wanted to learn but that didn’t quite hit the tone she was looking for. And then there it was. Her lips lifted in a smile as the first hummed bars of music hung in the air, and then she was hurrying back to play through it on the harp. Yes, this one felt right, and while it had some very complicated phrasing, it wasn’t in an overly difficult key. Ziran played it through once slowly, and then again with more expression as she got a feel for the music. Aye, this was the right one. Returning the rest of the music to the correct spot, she sat down and drew out the lined sheets of parchment that she had brought along, as well as pen and ink for copying, and sat down to start the painstaking process of making her own copy of the music to use at home.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

|
Dulinneth and Wisteria
Fifth level; Hall of Song
Dec 22
Continued from here

Stepping inside the grand structure, Dulinneth was breathless with awe. It was so magnificent! She was glad to feel some warmth coming from a fireplace somewhere, though she couldn't see it. The entrance hall was large and somewhat lofty-looking, and yet, they managed to keep it from being drafty. She rubbed her cold hands together to get some warmth back into them, while looking around. "Oh, Wist... it's so beautiful here!" She declared.

"Isn't it?" Wist spoke in a bit of a hushed tone, smiling at the way her new friends were admiring the place that she loved so much. And this was only just the entrance! She waited to make sure that they were all inside, and was glad to enjoy the warmth of being indoors. "The tickets booth will be over here," She informed them, leading the way toward a counter where she knew there would be a staff member waiting for anyone who might want to come and buy tickets. She lowered her voice to a whisper, even quieter than before, as she walked along beside Gaer and Linn, "After that, I'll take you on a bit of a tour, if you'd like."

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Hall of Songs, Minas Tirith, Gondor
Arriving from here

Gaerlothriel shared Dulinneth’s amazement at the interior of the structure. It was vast and spacious, designed to hold an audience of plenty, in comfort among the stonework and luxurious woodwork. Warmth welcomed them as they entered, helping to create a replenishing atmosphere that soothed the body while the Hall of Songs subsumed their minds and hearts. ”It is marvelous.” She said, dreamily, in agreement with Dulinneth. Wisti got to spend her days here? Even as a mouse, Gaer would feel honoured.

Abrazimir brought up the rear, chaperoning the three girls with an air of casual curiosity. He had been among the ruins of Osgiliath, he knew what the greatness of Gondor could be like. He had never been in here though. It was impressive.

Gaer nodded to Wisti’s direction, with a quick gesture producing her coin purse from the interior of her sleeve, where she was taught to keep it hidden and concealed from pickpockets and thieves. However, it seemed the opportune time for her to actually check in, with a person of authority, if she would even be allowed to see the show and performance occurring in a few days. She turned to her brother with a deferring look, leaving her friends slightly behind to enjoy the sights of the foyer and entrance. ”We would like to see a show here in a few days. Do you reckon it would be okay with mother and father?” She asked him softly in sindarin.

Abrazimir looked at her sharply. Really? Easier to ask forgiveness then permission, he assumed. And it was the most innocent thing ever. He didn’t see a problem about it. ”Most likely. It is the ballet.” He replied with indifference.

”Would you like to come?” She asked next, which was the real crutch of the situation. They would need a chaperone then as well.

”No. Was the immediate reply – what interest would he have? – but he saw the forming expression on her face and held up his hand to stay his sister’s pout. ”Yes, yes I will come with you. And go elsewhere during the show. And meet you back here.” Abrazimir hurriedly assured her with a mischievous smirk. Oh, he should have extorted her for a favour or something. But in front of her friends, he wouldn’t be so cruel.

Elated, and fully guiltless, Gaer turned back to her friends and gestured they should head over to the ticket booth. Three tickets. She would purchase and hold them. Or maybe she should get a fourth, in case Abrazimir changed his mind or maybe they found another friend or companion to join them. Gaer, along with Linny and Wisti at her side, strode up to the ticket booth and smiled courteously. Abrazimir hovered in the rear, arms lightly crossed, mindful and watchful.

She was etiquette minded, displaying her upbringing, as she addressed the ticket minder in the elven speech, like any daughter of Gondorian nobility might. Surely a common sight and sound in the Hall of Songs. ”Good morning. I would like three tickets to the forthcoming show, please.” Gaerlothriel requested in a polite tone.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

|
Dulinneth and Wisteria
Fifth level; Hall of Song
Dec 22

Wist grinned happily as her friends expressed their awe of the building. It was her favorite place to be, although she also felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that they hadn't even seen anything but the entrance hall, yet! She watched as Gaer and her brother stepped aside to talk in private. Meanwhile, she turned to Linn. The two girls chatted for a moment while they waited for Gaer.

Soon, they saw her motioning to them to join her, and happily did so. "Well?" Linn asked in a whisper, feeling somehow as if she shouldn't make too much noise here. Which was probably absurd, since wasn't this a place where people played music and stuff? Still, with no one but them and perhaps a ticket seller, it somehow seemed out of line to talk too loudly. She glanced from Gaer to Abrazimir and back, already assuming what that private little conference had been about.

The entire group moved over to the ticket booth, which made Linn grin happily. Wist was delighted, finding it hard to stay quiet while her friend addressed the man behind the counter. To her surprise, she spoke again in that other language. So Wist had no idea what was said, and she had to try and make sense of what was being said by what results it brought.

The man behind the counter smiled as he made the guess that these were some nobles. Although he recognized Wisteria and knew she was not one of their number, he figured she had probably been asked for directions or something. "Of course, my lady." He answered in the same language. "And do you have any preference on the seating, miss?" He pulled out a chart showing a diagram of the theater seats, the ones which were already taken were X'd out. "We still have a box available for extra luxury, or if that is not to your tastes, we do still have several seats available here in the middle section," He indicated the places on the chart. "You do want tickets for the opening night, I assume?" He made the guess, since that was the first one in the lineup, and what most people preferred. "It will be the day after tomorrow," He added, to make sure she knew when it was to be.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Hall of Songs, Minas Tirith, Gondor

As the young women crowded the ticket counter, Abrazimir hovered in the background, arms crossed over his chest, seeming to inspect some of the portraits and statues they had set up in alcoves in this lobby area, though he lightly listened to his sister’s conversation with the ticket master.

The seating arrangement stumped Gaerlothriel though. She figured the whole place was arranged like any amphitheatre, the seating positioned like a rising semi-circle around a stage where the dancers performed their art. The ticket master was kind enough to spread a map of the theatre, dazzling Gaerlothriel with the organization they had for such a thing. The options were between a private box, which could seat up to ten people, or the middle section, which was closer to the stage but more amongst the public audiences.

As for the timing, that was surely obvious, though she didn’t know the circumstances yet. ”Opening night, please-“ she started to say, but Abrazimir cut in immediately after.

”Not possible.” He said curtly, without explanation. And it was all rather dependent on when he was available, right? Gaerlothriel frowned, feeling slightly undermined for some reason but she kept her shoulders squared and her gaze leveled at the ticket master, trying to hide her blush at her brother’s bark.

”The day after, if possible. Allow me a few moments to confer with my friends about which seating works for them…” She said, not wanting to make the same mistake again by possibly stepping on someone’s toes with the seating or timing. The ticket master ought to see that she was of noble standing and had coin, so he could wait a moment for his sale. Gaerlothriel turned to her friends, Wisti and Linny. She knew Linny probably understood Sindarin but the tongue was beyond Wisti’s knowledge.

”The showing after opening night we can attend. Will you be free for that?” She thought to inquire first of Wisti, turning towards her, having a more deferring posture towards her new friend then to the ticket vendor. Wisti knew more and indeed the entire adventure had it’s basis in her participation. With a hand, she touched Linny’s forearm to draw her in as well, forming a little conspiratorial circle between the three girls, speaking privately. ”And what do you think, a box would be good, right? We’re going to need you to explain things to us, so I figure somewhere private is better. We don’t want everyone hushing us every few seconds.” She gave a little laugh. Price was no object to her.

”I’m thinking of buying an extra ticket. Maybe even two or three more. In case there’s anyone else we want to invite. Maybe some handsome boys?” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly at her friends, not overly serious. But she did wander what it might be like to take Sir Fox to an event like this. Or Toggornir. No, that made her baulk and she banished that notion at once. One more might be sufficient, though they could fit up to seven others in the box, if ever they knew that many people who would be willing to attend the ballet with them. If anyone, they could buy their own tickets and come sit with them anyways.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

|
Dulinneth and Wisteria
Fifth level; Hall of Song
Dec 22

Linn noticed Gaer approaching, and left off from chatting with Wisteria, curious to find out what seats her friend had gotten for them. As it turned out, she had not yet gotten any, but wanted to know their preferences! She had no idea, really, but thankfully, as far as Linn could tell, Wist seemed to know everything there was to know about the theater!

"Yes, the second showing should be fine." Wist agreed, still quite amazed she actually had a chance to attend as part of the audience, rather than hiding in the backstage area. She'd probably still do that for all the others, especially the first night, however. As for her schedule, she'd be working during the daytime, before the show, so that the theater would be nice and clean by the time the first audience members began to arrive. So that shouldn't be a problem at all.

Hearing that Gaer was considering getting a box, Wist couldn't help but look at her with slight amazement. While she'd known that her new friends were obviously rich, she hadn't quite realized that the other girl could afford that sort of thing so easily! "A.. a box, those are really expensive, you know.." She offered a meek warning, but it seemed that money was not a concern for the other girl. Wist nodded slightly as Gaer then mentioned how they would need Wist to explain things, and smiled with amusement. "I can do that." She agreed.

Hearing her friend speak about getting an extra ticket and so forth, Wist listened while she spoke, joking about inviting some handsome boys. Wist didn't know any, but she smiled in amusement. Wist decided to explain something now, so the other girl didn't sound as if she'd never bought tickets before.. even if she hadn't. "If you are getting a box, then you won't need to buy tickets." She explained, keeping her voice down low so that Ralph wouldn't hear. "You can invite as many people as will fit in the box, to be your guests, or just have it all to yourself. That's one of the nice things about those.. although they are a LOT more expensive, you get some nice benefits. They bring some nicer snacks and drinks during the show, and stuff like that. I.. I've never been in one during a show, of course, but I've seen some of the stuff left behind. It's like.. fancier snacks, you know?" She shrugged. "I don't know what they'd be called, but maybe sorta like the things they served at the dance yesterday." It was the sort of luxuries that were far beyond her chances of obtaining.

"Oooh, that sounds way nicer than sitting down with everyone else!" Linn mentioned, turning to Gaer. "We should do that." She sort of wondered if her mother might like to attend, but she also sort of didn't want to have her around to dampen the girl's fun.

Behind the ticket counter, Ralph waited patiently while the young ladies conferred together, although he raised an eyebrow in slight surprise to see the two clearly rich girls speaking with and acting so chummy with the cleaning girl. He began to wonder about that, questioning whether she was actually a part of their group, rather than what he had first assumed. Perhaps he'd ask her a little about the family, later. They were clearly nobility, but they did not seem to be from Minas Tirith, and he was getting curious.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Hall of Songs, Minas Tirith, Gondor

As the young women conferred, Abrazimir tried not to let his boredom sully their happy moods and tried to get involved somehow in the moment. He moved up to the ticket counter himself, curious about the operations and layout, briefly examining the sheet the vendor had laid out for the girls. ”Good gig?” He inquired of Ralph, wondering about the labour and effort of working at a place like this. ”They have a House like this in Dol Amroth. Not as grandiose though. Never thought to go inside one.” Abrazimir nodded appreciatively. ”Not bad, Sir.” He said with a smile. Look at him, learning and experiencing something new every day. Sometimes two things a day.

Meanwhile, Gaerlothriel heard out what her friends had to say. There were no individual tickets for the box. While getting middle seating might be cost effective, it would not allow the girls to be…well, that. Girls. Who were still exploring and learning about the world, and the arts, and all manners of experiences and sensations. She knew she was just going to explode with questions. They ought to not torture the audience with their incessant whispering and giggling and general foolery. A box though was pricey. And unless they had seven other people who might make the cost worthwhile or split the price, it would be a stretch on her generosity to acquire it.

But…how often did she get to come to Minas Tirith? With friends too. And make new friends. It felt like a once in a lifetime experience and she feared missing out.

Wisti was being modest and humble. Linny though agreed with the box being superior. With a flick of her wrist, Gaer produced her coin purse from her sleeve and weighed it in her palm, doing some mental calculations on her meagre budget. She could afford the box. Yes, it would be very generous and charitable of her. Her mother always taught her to strive to be that. And father was the one who taught her the sleight-of-hand trick to conceal her purse up her sleeve, to guard her treasures and never reveal them. Oooh…she didn’t know what to do for a moment.

Yet in the end…her adventurism won out. Let’s do it.

”We’re getting the box.” She announced to her friends, patting Wisti on the shoulder, then Linny, then turning back to the ticket vendor, Ralph, who was now conversing with her brother. Gaer walked right up and put her hand on Abrazimir’s waist, gently nudging him aside to bring attention back on her. Her brother assented with a humorous eye roll, stepping aside and around, to go stand with the other girls like the good bodyguard and chaperone he was.

”I’d like to acquire a box for the showing the day after opening night. Three days from now. Please and thank you, Sir.” She announced in the elven tongue, displaying her education and upbringing. Not characteristic for her and she looked back to smile at her friends, feeling emboldened by their happy smiles and looks of hope. This was going to be so much fun.

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

|
Dulinneth and Wisteria
(and Ralph, the ticket salesman)
Fifth level; Hall of Song
Dec 22

Ralph smiled at the man who was clearly the chaperone for the young ladies. "Yes sir, it is very good job, I think. I enjoy it, at least, for the most part." He got to sit behind this desk and, for the most part, take it easy until people came in wanting to buy tickets. Then, he might have to deal with some less pleasant folks, but usually they were polite and well mannered, like this group. Usually, the days leading up to a show tended to get busier and busier, and that was when things became a bit less leisurely for the ticket salesmen, but for now, it wasn't too busy.

"Is that so?" He asked, when informed that there was a similar place of theater in Dol Amroth, as well as the fact it was not as grandiose as this. That invoked some level of pride in his home city, of course, as well as surprise, that the city of Nobles, including Prince Imrahil, did not have a grander place for theatrical arts to be learned, and performed, and observed. "Thank you, sir." He added with a smile, at the apparent compliment to the Hall of Song.


Linn was quite happy to hear Gaer declare that they were getting the box. She grinned at Wisteria. "This'll be so much fun!" She threw her arms around her new friend in a quick hug, glad that she had told them about this performance, and that she'd come along to help them decide and all that.

Somewhat amazed, Wist laughed softly when Linn hugged her, and returned the gesture with a grin. "I can hardly believe it." She whispered to Linn as Gaer went back to talk to Ralph. She was so excited she could hardly stand still, and she found her feet absently moving, as if she was preparing to start dancing.


As the young lady returned, Ralph turned his smile to her and listened to her request. "Ah, alright. Let's see then," He checked the seating chart that he had pulled out earlier, then noticed that it was for the first night. He switched to a different one, which had much more availability. "Here we are, second showing. We have several boxes still left, for that evening. Which would you like?" He asked, pointing out the ones that were not marked out.

"If I may offer my recommendation.." He pointed out some that were off to the sides, above the main floor and quite close to the stage. "These would give you an excellent view of the stage, and if you have only a few in your party, it should be perfect for you. Each box room can fit four to six people easily.. although I have known of people to squeeze up to eight chairs in there and still have a bit of standing room." He pointed to another which seemed larger. "These are the larger ones we have available, which is more ideal for large parties." After giving her any further information she might need, he listed the prices for each option, and waited to hear which she would prefer.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Hall of Songs, Minas Tirith, Gondor

Gaerlothriel was still floating on the excitement of her friends as she stood at the ticket booth, Ralph drawing out a seating plan for the day that she requested. There was certainly much more availability and her eyes perused the arrangements as Ralph pointed out a few boxes still free for purchase for the night. She hummed with puzzlement for a moment, eyes darting between the options, thinking which might offer the best experience. Maybe she should call Wisti over for her thoughts, though Ralph was happy to provide some suggestions as well. Her party indeed wasn’t very large. Three, with maybe the opportunity for one or two more. And yes, they certainly had no qualms about squeezing together if necessary.

”Ours is not too large,” She informed Ralph on her party size. ”We should not have more than six. The one you suggested first will do nicely. Thank you very much!” She said and opened her coin-purse to count out the required amount, giving her name for the records as well. Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor. Probably the first time she got to give her name without a more important family member’s name attached to it. The transaction was completed and Gaerlothriel received a voucher for the box that permitted entry on the day of the performance. She took it back to her friends so they could admire it together. The voucher was a decent sized card, of sturdy paper, and trimmed with gold leaf and had such neat handwriting!

”Three days time! I’m so excited.” She said enthusiastically to them, letting them each have a look and feel the voucher, to see that it was real and this was really happening. ”We’ll have a box, and they’ll provide complimentary snacks and drinks, so save your appetites on the day.” Gaer told Linny and Wisti, tucking her coin-purse back up her sleeve, feeling much lighter. But it would all be worth it.

Just one more thing to do. Turning to her brother, Abrazimir, who hovered very bored at the edge of their circle, she went and handed him the voucher. For safekeeping. Guessing her intent, Abrazimir took it wordlessly and stowed it in a breast pocket. Knights, they were so good at guarding things! Gaer returned to her friends, clasping a hand on each of their shoulders. ”Shall we explore, my ladies?” She beamed at them, with a final glance at Wisti to lead them on since she knew the best. It was such a magnificent building and there seemed so much to see!

[Rillewen]

@Lantaelen

|
Dulinneth and Wisteria
Fifth level; Hall of Song
Dec 22

Wist could hardly believe that this was actually real. As Gaer showed off her voucher for the box seats, she was amazed to observe the beautiful gold leafing. She'd never seen one of these before! And to be allowed to touch it, and handle it, it almost seemed like too much. She thought these next three days would never come! And she knew which box that was, too! As Gaer suggested exploring, Wist grinned. "I'll show you your box!" She suggested eagerly. "You can get an idea what it'll look like, and how to get there. That way, when you come back for the show, you won't have to ask for directions." She suggested with a smile. She also made a mental note that she would be taking a bit extra care when cleaning that one, to ensure that her friends and her wouldn't come across any dust or crumbs that she might have missed.

Since everyone seemed in agreement with this idea, Wist happily led the way with a little bounce in her step, showing her friends to the box they had rented for the night three days from now. After that, she decided there was enough time before the dancers would be coming for their rehearsal, so she took them through a tour of the theater. She showed them backstage, explaining how the curtains were operated by ropes and how there would be some strong men waiting behind the wings to haul on the ropes to pull the curtains open and closed, and all that.

After a few minutes of the girls playing at being dancers on the stage, they exited the grand auditorium where the show would be taking place. There was so much more to see here, and Wist didn't want to spend too much time in one place. She took them through the rest of the Hall of Song, showing them various classrooms and places where people learned how to play musical instruments, and other classrooms where dance lessons were held, and in the lower levels, rooms where musical instruments could be brought for repairs and such. She did not take them to her attic, as she didn't want to risk anyone else observing them sneaking up there. And besides, Gaer's brother was with them and she didn't want him knowing that was where she lived. He was a knight or something, so he might feel like he must report something like that.

After she had shown them all there was to see in the Hall of Song, they returned to the main entry hall, where they had begun. "So, this is where I work." Wist concluded, opening her arms out to indicate the whole building. "What now?" She glanced from one to the other, pleased to have gotten the chance to show off the place where she not only worked, but lived. Even if the latter was secretive. She had never had any friends come by that she could show the place to, so this was all quite new to her.

"It's lovely! I've had so much fun!" Linn declared. "I can't wait for the show. But we have three days to wait," She sighed, then considered. "I've got an idea," She smiled. "Let's go check out some of the shops. We'll all go," She added, making it clear that Wist was meant to be included. "Maybe we can find some new things to wear for the show!" She beamed happily at the idea of that. They could get themselves new dresses, but they could also get Wist some new things, and use the fact that they were all getting new things as a cover, so their non-wealthy friend wouldn't feel like they were just going shoping to buy her stuff, but she did want to help her and get her some new things. A nicer dress. A warmer coat, and other things she might need.

[Lantaelen]

@Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor & Lady Gaerlothriel Dimaethor
December 22nd, Hall of Songs, Minas Tirith, Gondor

They spent the next hour being shown around the magnificent Hall of Songs by Wisteria, while Abrazimir hung back at the entrance chatting with Ralph about the job and the War. Gaer followed the other two girls with the permanent fixture of a silly grin as she was shown around the fairy tale structure, with it’s ancient and superb stonework and grandiose décor. Their box was so wondrous already, like their own private clubhouse, very cozy and close to the stage. She lost her breath gazing down upon the stage and rest of the audience section, where it seemed like hundreds could be accommodated in comfortability.

But what they did next would be a core memory for Gaerlothriel for many, many years. Wisti took her and Linny down to the backstage area, showing her around the props and mechanics of the stage. Then…right out onto the stage itself, before the empty auditorium. Despite being the oldest, Gaer found herself suddenly the shyest, in imagining herself in front of a packed audience doing this performance or that. Even in this empty place she felt so speechless and paralyzed! Fortunately, the other girls were able to draw her into the silliness soon after, dancing and fluttering about like butterflies, giggling and snickering.

They moved on, being shown the other wings of the Hall of Songs, where the teaching and learning happened. They saw classrooms and numerous musical instruments, some of which Gaer couldn’t even name or knew existed until now. Eventually they returned to the entrance, Wisti concluding her marvelous tour with flourish. Gaer clapped her hands, like Wisti had just got down performing a whole show for them in showing them around. ”Bravo,” she exclaimed with a laugh.

What now? Came the query and it seemed all too soon to leave this place, though they would be returning in a few short days to see it all packed and in full use, as intended. Gaer’s eyes were alight with the visions of colour and vibrancy and sounds she could imagine. She could never herself, and Wisti was all the more braver for doing what Gaer found herself benumbed to. Linny suggested they check out some of the shops in the market and Gaer turned with a nod. And an excuse to get something for Wisti, the poor girl. They had seen some of the backrooms and Gaer could not fathom Wisti living in such conditions.

”We should match somehow.” Gaer agreed to checking out the marketplaces of the City. She had gone with her parents but that had been very…limited. ”Matching scarves, gloves, maybe even matching colours in our dresses.” She proposed, mostly looking at Linny, wondering if she had the same notion. Pick a colour Wisti didn’t have, so they had an excuse to get it for her. She had decent coin left. And Abrazimir could probably be guilt tripped into sharing a bit of his as well. What did he even spend his money on anyways?

”We would like to go to the market now.” She informed Abrazimir, using the Sindarin speech as they did in their everyday speech, between their family.

”Which one?” Abrazimir inquired casually, though he soon looked surprised when…Gaer looked surprised.

”Which one?” Gaer had to repeat in astonishment. There was more than one? ”The…fashion district? Clothing?” She explained further. Usually most settlements had a central marketplace where all the traders and buyers could gather but a large city like Minas Tirith could boast more than one of those.

”That would be in the lower levels.” Abrazimir informed her. ”Though they do have tailors and seamstresses on the higher levels but those are…invite only. Very elite and of the finest quality.” And ruinously expensive.

”Take us.” Gaer said and turned to her friends. ”Back to the lower levels. What colour should we present as?” She informed her friends next, asking them to come up with something they could match on.

”Um…you still have the ticket voucher, right?” She asked her brother in the common speech as they made their way out. Abrazimir felt at his breast pocket, the voucher still there.

”I’m supposed to be carrying it?” He asked, pretending to be confused, and when he got a satisfying look of annoyance on his sister’s face, he laughed to show he was only jesting, leading the way out of the Hall of Songs and back into the cold, wind swept streets of the White City.

[Departure back to the Streets.]

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel
Early December

Sitting back finally to stretch her back and uncramp the fingers of her writing hand, Ziran’s gaze traced the notes on the completed copy with satisfaction. It was finished. Now just to let the ink dry before she could move it. Carefully closing the ink bottle, cleaning the quill on some blotting paper, and then packing away the items in her scribal kit with the pen knife that was always in residence took only a few moments, but she enjoyed the activity. Chewing lightly on her lip as she trailed a finger over the closest edge of parchment where it wasn’t weighted down, she considered when she would have time to practice in the week before the wedding. There weren’t that many that were not filled with plans and activities or duties.

With a slight sigh, followed by a soft and private smile, she brushed the dark hair off her forehead before reaching for her harp again and shifting to rest it against her shoulder. She might as well make use of the rest of the time she had here to practice, especially if she wanted to play it for Macardil after the ceremony. Her fingers ran over the strings to send forth a cascade of notes before she began, finding the timing and feel that spoke most evocatively. Half her mind was on the music and the man who was her intended future audience, and half on the subject that had been nagging at the back of her mind and affecting her mood despite her best efforts. Leavetaking and returning. Wanting to hold onto life with both hands while acknowledging that her profession didn’t often leave much room for that. Notes flew from the strings in a storm before quieting to a lilting whisper between the silences and building in strength and certainty again.

She played through the piece twice before halting and letting the notes fade into silence a long while, not raising her hand to halt the hum of the strings until there had been a full measure of quiet. A closer look at the copied sheet showed that the ink had dried. It was time to go. Returning the harp to its carrying case, she then folded the completed sheet of music and tucked it into a pocket. Glancing around the room as she slung the case across her back and picked up her scribal kit to clip to her belt, she nodded. When time allowed, whenever that might be, she planned to be back to find more music.