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Elendor - Friday, November 17, 2006, 11:16 PM
Imladris Greenhouse
A wondrous sight greets your eyes as you step inside this long glass structure. Though it is quite warm outside, the air inside the greenhouse is much more temperate; the air is damp, and very refreshing, filled with the crisp clean scents of outdoors mingling with the perfumes of the flowers. Plants of every variety grow here, most in full flower, and there are even a few small trees; flowering peach trees, and apricot trees with their brances laden with ripe fruit. There is some kind of shelving or tablework here, for the plants grow not only on the floor but are somehow worked into layers, each spilling down toward the next in a green curtain. Rosebushes fill one corner of the structure, and their great blooms form an eye-dazzling rainbow of every colour.
Further on, past the splendour of the flowers and plants, is a small work area. There, shallow wooden trays of seedlings lie on flat tables, and rough benches and worktables are available for use by the gardeners. There are also racks filled with small ceramic jars, built along and above the benches. Closer inspection would reveal that these are filled with seeds for the spring replanting. The sky above, visible through the clear glass of the roof, is overcast, the sun hidden away behind the grey clouds. There are even a few songbirds here, robins filling the air with their sweet and joyous song. All is well, here within the greenhouse, on this day.
It is a peaceful night here in the greenhouse. Through the glass walls and ceiling the light of the moon and stars filters softly, covering the plants and flowers that grow here in a silvery, tranquil light. The sound of song and laughter from the house is muffled in here, and the general silence is only broken by the occasional flutter of wings when one of the nightingales that dwell here moves.
Slowly and barely audible, drawing no attention, no reaction, the door opens and a shadowy figure steps in, closing the door behind them. The elf's long black hair is so dark it nearly seems to absorb the soft light from above. The figure moves, and is quickly lost between the shadows that the plants cast on each other.
"I wonder if this works," comes a soft voice from the space between two palm trees. Here, underneath a row of skylights, a special plant has been grown for years. But much to the despair of seekers and gardeners, it has not yet shown the desired effect. The voice that speaks here is that of Sidhel and he beckons the newly arrived figure to come closer.
Some time later, the door opens again - and remains that way, casting a small pool of gentle light on the ground. Giliath stands just inside the entry, looking around; one hand resting on the door - he seems lost in thought, though surely he had a purpose for coming here.
"Oh," comes a soft voice - that of Liltholwen. A soft rustle of leaves indicates she is approaching Sidhel's position, after having changed her original path. Her eyes are wide with curiosity as she arrives at the place. She whispers, "Well, I did not come here for - oh!" Her gaze falls on the plant in front of her fellow Historian. The entrance of a third elf goes unnoticed to her as she examines the curious plant.
"Look how it has changed its shading," comments Sidhel and he points at the plant, the alleged Moon Tear of Gondolin. Bred from newly recovered seeds this wondrous little bush has been green throughout the first few years of its existence, but lo! A silvery hue has appeared on the leaves for the first time tonight! "It is not yet what we have been hoping for, mellon," explains Sidhel, "but it is... Ah, Giliath, come in."
There is a barely perceptible start as Giliath is abruptly drawn from his thoughts. He lets go of the door, allowing it to swing shut behind him, and carefully picks his way through the plants. "What is it?" he asks, looking down at the bush Sidhel points to.
"Fabulous!" Liltholwen smiles broadly, and whatever it was she came here for is momentarily forgotten as she bends closer to have good look at one of the leaves, and indeed, it shimmers softly in the moonlight. She looks up. "Well, it is a new moon, maybe because of that? Or maybe the plant has to reach a certain range in order to develop that? Surely when there were large amounts of Moon Tears in Gondolin, the gardeners didn't need to care about young plants not yet having reached the desired state..." The young elleth muses, glancing at Giliath as he approaches and then refocusing her gaze on the plant.
"This, Giliath, may well be a Moon Tear," explains Sidhel with quite some excitement in his voice. "A plant long lost when Beleriand was destroyed. But recently some mysterious seeds were recovered and from them sprung this plant." Softly he strokes the leaves and briefly the silvery hue disappears - only to return after a short while. "Maybe it is the new moon, maybe it is simply age? I do not know," he replies to Liltholwen.
Giliath's gaze flickers to Liltholwen and then away, dropping to the plant. "It could be," he says cautiously, his voice low and quiet. And in the dimness, his eyes take on a far-away look.
Liltholwen frowns thoughtfully, and after a while shrugs. "We should have a gardener take a look at it. Giliath, you are a vintner, are you not? Can you maybe tell something from.." She pauses, gazing at Giliath. "Mellon?" Her curiosity quickly snaps from the plant to the ellon's rather remote expression.
Time passes, quietly, serenely. The moonlight slants in from a different angle. Finally Giliath stirs himself. "A vintner, aye..." His voice trails off into silence again and he moves to one side, bending to look more closely. Long slender fingers trail along one leaf.
Sidhel watches Giliath's movements with interest. "Look how it reacts on our touch. When I touched it before it turned back to green, so shade might affect its colour. But how strange, there is no moonlight at all, it is New Moon," he muses and then he lifts a small watering can. "It seems the plant needs vast amounts of water."
While curiosity and liveliness do belong to Liltholwen's character treats, patience does not. She keeps quiet, but grows noticeably more restless with each long moment that passes while Giliath examines the plant closely. Her gaze trails about, wandering from plant to plant to Giliath to flower to plant to Giliath to flower, and on. Surely she would not be as impatient just now if it wasn't for what made her come to the greenhouse in the first place. And the moon ever moves on.
"It looks like it.." Giliath muses, then shakes himself into awareness. Here and now. "It could well be," he tells Sidhel. "The shape of the leaves seems right, but I don't remember... Yes, they do like great amounts of water," he adds. "Perhaps it needs more time to grow, or a bright, full moon." In the depths of his eyes, a bank of silvery fronds masses beneath a round moon.
-Fade Out-
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