gondolin_noble | (no subject)

Oh gods. More wine.

"Very much, thank you," she replies, grinning.

The music is of a sort she's not familiar with, and she couldn't know less of the language if she tried, but it is, without a doubt, beautiful.

Noting her blank expression at the words, he sits himself next to her and, in a soft undertone, translates as the song goes along. He's having to do it a bit on the fly since it was newly written a few days ago, and while the theme is intimately familiar, the specific words aren't predictable.

"Later tonight," He adds, once the song is through, "There will be dancing."

Yep, that's a positively gleeful look.

Rae listens to the beautiful song and its translation, content. The mention of dancing, however, certainly wakes her.

"Dancing, too?" she says, setting down her drink. Damn, why does the wine have to be so good? "Wait. you mean, like the singing, right? Performance-type dancing? Not..."

Surely not.

He laughs uproariously, the flickering light of the bonfire catching in the gems woven into his braids. Someone across the fire calls a question, and he answers, cheerfully, in Sindarian.

A few minutes later a lively, catchy tune strikes up, much to the delight of pretty much every elf in residence, and more than a few of the tall gray-eyed humans.

Sunshine's look at him says, very plainly, that she'd be calling him some very creative and objectionable things right about now, but he's important and she's a guest, so she's not.

It's the thought that counts.

Even if - maybe it's the wine's influence - she can't quite keep a straight face.

He stands in a flurry of green and gold, holding a hand out to her. Behind him, those who just want to watch are moving further away from the center floor, and those who plan on dancing are taking the floor - elves, men, and the occasional brave dwarf.

Even Rae's two maids have taken the floor, one on the arm of an elf, the other in the company of a ranger.

At least one who would say she just wants to watch is nevertheless letting herself be drawn out towards the floor.

"Hope your toes forgive me," Rae chuckles at Glorfindel as the dance begins. Dancing is not something she does often, despite various friends' attempts to teach her, but she keeps up admirably with the lively beat.

The dancers are a very obviously mixed group of skills, ranging from the ridiculously talented (the older elves, and those of Sindarian blood stand out) to the absolutely fumbling (the newest stable boy, a young human from a small town that is still recovering from the influx of lawless folk on the road), but no one seems to care one way or the other. They trade partners frequently and with a joyful abandon.

You should see them at Midsummer, Rae.

Sunshine laughs, spun about in the dance full of color. She shouldn't have groused at the idea of dancing after all that food and wine - if she had known, there would have been no way in the world she'd have missed it.

The strange shyness she'd felt at being a human among so many elves has all but disappeared. Each new partner, whether human or tall elf, is greeted with a bright smile and a ready hand.

She's surprised to feel regret when the music draws to a close, and thanks her current partner, the silver-haired elf lord who had presided over the meal.

He is as polite as one might expect of someone who has been keeping a firm hand on the ruling and politics of elven lands for ages, and sees her safely to her seat - her golden protector has been somehow hoodwinked into helping a trio of flautists who are missing someone to play the harp in the piece they wrote.

Rae is glad for the seat - the dance has left the baker rather giddy. Though she's not nearly as lightheaded from all the wine as she thought she would be, it's been a long day already.

The lights and beautiful music do their best to keep her attention, she soon has to fight to keep from yawning.

The music goes on, even though those responsible for it change frequently. Eventually, though, there is a light hand on her shoulder, and Glorfindel's voice above her head.

"There are more comfortable places to sleep - if you do not wish for them, however, I know of some places along the trail."

Rae looks up at him. She is tired, there's no denying that, and her thoughts have been turning more and more towards the bed in the travelers' wing.

"... I just don't want to miss anything."

"They will be here until the dawn breaks, or later - and we start again soon. You will be asleep on the trail, which will be troublesome, as your horse may wander off."

Besides, think of all the other things she's missing - the Ents are probably having a meeting (for the last two weeks), there is feasting in Edoras, a diplomatic gala in Minas Tirith, at least one birthday party in the Shire, and a chorusing band of dwarves under at least one mountain. After all that, missing some elvish music seems positively minor.

Those are things she doesn't know to miss. The music and dances of all the peoples gathered in Rivendell are right in front of her, and aren't likely to be ever again.

Rae stands, slowed by reluctance as well as tiredness. "You're right, though, of course. I should get some sleep." Knowing her body's internal clock, she'll be up at four a.m., thinking it's time to make cinnamon rolls.

He offers her a hand up, and escorts her back to her rooms, greeting all they pass politely. The valley isn't entirely quiet - the river roars over the falls, the wind tugs at the tree branches, and there are elves - singing, playing, generally enjoying the starlit night as much (if not more) than the warm spring day it followed.

"We leave early in the morn - but there will be breakfast, before, in the hall. Do you remember the way?"

Rae goes with him, tired but still wanting to take everything in. In open, arched hallways, she looks out at the cliffs and waterfalls, the starlit night as bright as day to her eyes. She'll have to remember to take some photos if there's an opportunity before they leave.

"I believe so," she nods. Or, if in doubt, she can follow her nose and the urging of her empty stomach. "Which way are we headed, tomorrow?"

"Onward and upward." He smiles, fey and ancient and utterly ignoring the muffled sigh down the hall from one of the maids.

"That's... entirely helpful, yes," she grins, though her words and her grin are interrupted by a tremendous yawn. Yeah, she's getting the idea that it's time for sleep. Thankfully, her room is soon reached.

"See you tomorrow, then. I'm going to go crash." While there's still time to do so.

As though the lateness of the hour at which she's getting to bed wasn't totally her fault. >_> Right.

Edited 2013-03-19 05:07 (UTC)

The next morning dawns bright, and by the time Sunshine makes it to the dining hall, Glorfindel is already there, happily trading stories in rapid-fire Sindarian with a smattering of other elves.

It's debatable if he's just that early a riser, or if he ever went to sleep in the first place. Good luck on getting a straight answer with that question.

Sunshine slept like a rock, it's true. No nightmares, no dreams at all. Just rest. Rae had almost forgotten what that was like. To wake up rested.

When she enters the dining hall, Sunshine comes in from the direction of the kitchens, chatting with a couple of people with whom she'd formed a rapport. She'd gotten turned around in the many hallways of Rivendell, early this morning, trying to get some good pictures of the place and the surrounding valley and waterfalls with the early-morning sun hitting them. Her plan was to take a few pictures, then find the kitchens, but she ended up having to ask the way. Thankfully, someone kindly showed her the way.

The woman on Sunshine's left, listening to the discussion, seems to have her doubts about vegetarianism, but she isn't anywhere as vocal about it as the dwarf on Sunshine's right. Rae and the dwarf don't see eye-to-eye on the inclusion of greenery in cooking, much less vegetarianism, but both of them know that the discussion is more of an exchange of ideas than an argument. Sunshine is doubtful she'll make any more headway on the issue of fresh vegetables in a healthy diet as the dwarf will make in his insistence that a diet without meat is an unnaturalness and a tragedy. She'd be willing to bet money the dward knows it, too.

But it's an enjoyable discussion, anyway, and it continues through breakfast.

By the time the two maids have hustled Sunshine away from the breakfast table, Glorfindel is outside, with two saddled horses - Asfaloth, and an unfamiliar mare. Neither of the two are being held, as Glorfindel and another elf chat quietly.

Sunshine thanks the two maids for their help - and their patience with her. She still has her camera with her, just in case, though it's currently hidden in her pocket.

She also - because occasionally the times when she pays attention overlap with the times she manages to think ahead - has two honeyed rolls snagged from the breakfast table.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." Both elves return, though Glorfindel is shoved out of the way a moment later by his horse. Asfaloth developed a love for sweets years ago, and no amount of convincing on Glorfindel's part has yet broken the habit.

The mare follows reluctantly, snuffling warily. The not-an-elf is strange to her.

This baker isn't the person to ask to help you break someone, even a horse, of their love of sweets. Sunshine grins as she feeds one - only one! - of the honeyed rolls to Asfaloth. She suspects that very few creatures are allowed the privilege of shoving Glorfindel aside. Even fewer would try.

The other roll she holds out to the approaching mare, hand held flat, as smiles as it is accepted after a moment of curious snuffling. Introduction and peace-offering in one.