OPEN--while your lips are still red

[alvin]

The clouds in the distance looked very dark. The came closer and overshadowed the blissful sun while threatening with rain and thunderstorm. It was typical spring weather. It had been sunny the entire day, but now in the afternoon the weather had changed, the wind seemed to hit stronger and had pushed the dark clouds from the horizon over Bree-land. He could see how even the trees seemed to bow for the upcoming storm, and how the flowers seemed smaller and even closed to protect themselves from the heavy rain that would fall soon. A woman walked out from the stable with two beautiful twin girls holding each of her hands – she too glanced up at the darkened sky and heard the rumbling in the distance. Her eyes grew wide and she quickly pushed her children inside their small house.

Two extremely light blue eyes watched this woman as she hurried inside with her girls running ahead of her. These two eyes were not worried like the woman had been and they glanced up at the sky with amazement and excitement shining out of them. A wind hit the pale face these two eyes belonged to, and pushed the long black hair away and let it fall gently down his back. Two pierced ears appeared underneath it and somehow made the look even more noticeable and mysterious. The man was wearing a black cloak with a simple dark green skirt underneath it. His vest was black as well and there was nothing special about his regular Bree look. However the jewellery this man was wearing – the rings, the bracelets, the earrings showed an unfamiliar craftsmanship and pattern that could only be found in a distant country somewhere. The man that was sitting with one long leg hanging over the railing of the stairway to the Prancing Pony showed that he had visited many countries most people in Bree-land did not even know about.

The man’s slender figure showed a lean and catlike movement – almost like a rogue. However he had no daggers or swords in his belt that could make people think of him as a warrior. And he was not. Alvin Dale was not a fighter. He had another talent that could weaken people and that was his music. In his lap was a mysteriously black lute with a silvery pattern that could almost seem elf-like, however the white tree the pattern made was not an elfish production – it was made in far Gondor and he had paid a high price for this lute. He wrapped his long fingers around it and looked up again at the sky – thinking about the upcoming storm while he started to form a gentle melody as his fingers touched the strings. When the man opened his mouth a dark voice came out and told the people that passed him by of a sad love that was just as storm-full as the spring weather.

((CLICK FOR SONG))

Sweet little words made for silence not talk
Young heart for love not heartache
Dark hair for catching the wind
Not to veil the sight of a cold world

Kiss while your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn

First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care

Kiss while your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn

Kiss while your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn

[ireth]

It was obvious that rain was coming from looking at the sky. She had seen the signs so many times in the past, each spring bringing them through so quickly. She did love the rain though, the refreshing water that would cool her face and soak her to the bone if she let it. Perhaps that was not the best idea for the moment now, but it was those little moments that she wanted to relish in the most. With the coming days passing her by she felt as though something was off in the world around her and she was still unsure just how apart of such an ordeal she wanted to be. Ireth would do her part if she had to, but she wanted it to be of her own choice and terms. Perhaps she would get her wish, perhaps not, but that was how she wanted things.

Over the last few decades she had been studying the towns of men, seeking a difference of environment in the world around her. It was her curious side, the side her father had always warned her about. It would always get her into trouble as a small child and there was little difference now except that she was now prepared for trouble. Pulling the dark green cloak tighter around her and keeping her hood up she looked around at the small number of humans still lingering about before the storm. Many had already sought shelter, seeming to prefer the warmth of their hearths than the coming storm. Out of those that lingered there were some hurrying inside, such as the woman with two girls she could see disappearing behind a door of a house as she passed. It seemed a little silly to seem so scared, but humans always did seem a bit more fragile. Such short lives they had, so little time to experience the world around them. It seemed a little saddening in a way, but she pushed the thought aside. There was little to be done about it anyway.

The elf paused when she heard it, music flowing into the world from a lute followed by a voice to sing the melody. It made her wish to join him with her flute, but she hesitated. Instead she just listened to the song for a moment as he wove a story with the words. She found herself leaning against the wall on the side of what she was relatively sure was an inn of some sort. Looking down at her hand she could see that somewhere along she had taken out her own instrument and held it lightly. The small wooden object was made from a darker wood, little intricate designs carved along it beautifully. Looking down at it she thought of the song she just heard, a response taking its place. Putting the flute to her lips gently she felt her breath flow through her and into music. It was gentle, but happier sounding than the song she had heard, as if to say to just wait out the storm and be patient for what awaits after.

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[alvin]

Alvin’s voice was dark but soft at the same time. The song was not meant to draw people towards him, but being a minstrel and without knowing a magical feature he possessed, he believed that it was his profession and his talent that made a few people stop up and listen to his music. He did not want them to stop up however, he just wanted them to continue with their daily work, since this song was meant for him and only him. It was like a description of the emotions the grey sky gave him. And of course, like all great poets in the history and the upcoming future, colour of the sky inspired the man to enter one large and complicated subject – love. Love was something people hungered for – it was something very dear to human beings – perhaps it was because it was the closest they got to magic – considering the fact that they were non-magical beings in middle earth.

But the human race’s passion, it’s emotions for love and towards their beloved people was like magic itself – at least that was what Alvin believed. He considered love being just as important subject to study like magic or history was. Love was complicated – perhaps even more complicated than the two earlier mentioned subjects. That was why he believed so strongly in it. He was a romantic and he loved the feelings love gave him. Everything from depressive heartbreak, vicious jealousy to warm and comfortable love. Sadly being a minstrel gave the man the life mostly no woman wanted to share. He did not make good money, he travelled a lot and he usually captured other ladies with his music. It was not something he could control, but being a man who adored females, he could never deny them anything. They were his weakness.

When the man finished his song, he looked up as he heard the music continue. However it had fluently changed into another melody. His shining blue eyes glanced around to find the source for the beautiful music and they finally fell on a beautiful girl. No, she was not a girl. It was the wrong word for it. But honestly, he had no right word to describe this creature that produced such an enchanting sound with her flute. It was a girl and a woman in one. She was young however her eyes shined with wisdom and intellect. Her beauty surprised him so much that he lost his breath and had to gasp as he looked upon this creature. Once she was done, Alvin had slowly gotten his eyes used to her and a small smile formed on his lips. “Hello.” He greeted her with a friendly but also rather cautious voice. “You are a very talented musician. I don’t think that I have seen you here in Bree before…” He continued quietly. “Where do you hail from?”

[ireth]

Her own melody brought peace of mind to her and calmness. It was something that she did cherish, having known the pain of loss and the hardships of war. She was a fighter, but she was truly far gentler than that. Ireth had a more creative soul, though she did find that she enjoyed a bit of training every now and again. Both fighting and that creative side could take her mind off things, but music not only did that but brought out that gentleness even more. It was able to bring about memories without reminding her of the pain of loss and it was able to bring her peace. Music was important to her because of that, like a companion that she could call upon for comfort when she was feeling lonely. The melody kept going strong, as if to show her spirit, but remained gentle as it seemed to caress the air with every note and pitch that the instrument produced. Whenever she played she put all she had into the song, nothing less.

The melody began to fade away as the music slowed to a stop, her breath fading through the instrument as she opened her eyes, having closed them some time during the song. Blue eyes found a similar pair as she found a young man staring her way. Her head turned to look at him fully, exposing some of her pale hair that was almost blue in the light, but not quite. Her head tilted to the side slightly, showing a hint of curiosity at his gaze but little more. Ireth recognized him as the source of the music before hers, especially judging from the lute he held in his grasp. A smile had formed on his lips and he spoke in greeting. He was friendly, but there was an underlining of caution mixed in there as well. It was understandable, she was not from around here after all and she was only making a brief stop through the town. She saw little harm in him or his questions, not like she was going to let him follow her home after all.

"Thank you. You are a very talented musician as well, that was quite a beautiful song," she said, returning the compliment, "you are correct though, I'm not from here. I hail from Rivendell, though I have been traveling around extensively as of late." It was in her nature to move about, always looking for something new to see or experience, though she tended to close herself off from any long lasting relationships. Ireth had always had a curious nature and did strive for knowledge. Over the years she had seen much of the lands, but she was not yet satisfied. "What about you, are you from here or did you hail from elsewhere," she asked, returning the question with a kind tone, "and where did you learn to play and sing?" He probably had a natural affinity for music, many people who would choose the life did and enjoyed much of it. Entertaining people seemed like it could be enjoyable to the right person, but she felt that entertaining people was not the point, that the music was what was important and that people could find happiness in it, whether they are the ones playing or listening.

[alvin]

Alvin has actually never really met an elf. He had seen them from a distance when he once had stumbled upon them as they were resting on their long travel to the Grey Havens, however he had never been so close to one. Back then, they had seemed not that different from humans. They had beautiful voices, a peaceful nature and there was something shiny about them. It looked like they were the royalty of Middle Earth. But despite of that, he had not seen that big a difference between the elves and himself. They were just as tall – some were even smaller than him. Their hair colour had been black, so he believed that they could have the same hair colour as human beings. And they had after all two legs, two arms, ten fingers and hopefully ten toes. No horrifying tails or fangs or wings.

Though as he was staring as this creature in front of him, he realised suddenly how different they actually were and how wrong he had been about them. It was not hard to see that they were a difference race – and not like humans with black skin were different from those with white. The elves belonged to a completely other line of species. They were like Sirens, like fairies, like other magical beings. He could not stop looking at her beautiful hair that had an unnatural colour – it almost seemed blue to him, and he was sure that it was his eyes that were failing him. This elf’s skin was gorgeous – it was like shimmering water and it made him want to reach out and touch it – just to see how it would feel against his fingers, but of course, Alvin didn’t.

“Thank you.” He replied when she commented on his talent as well and he bowed his head in respect. He liked it when other people appreciated his music – it was after all what he lived of. “From Rivendell…” Alvin continued and looked in the direction of the grey clouds that were coming closer to Bree. “Then you are far away from home. I grew up in this town… I have travelled a lot, but I’ve always returned to this place.” He told the girl and smiled politely at her. “My name is Alvin Dale.” The minstrel said hoping that she would tell him her name. “And as for my music,” he continued. “I guess that I have always had a talent for it. I learned how to play by another minstrel that came to Bree when I was a younger boy, but he only taught how to master the lute… I learned to play other instruments from other minstrels in different towns on my travels. Though my favourite will remain a lute. What about you?”

[ireth]

Her blue eyes watched for a moment before turning to the sky above. The sky was graying more with every passing moment, but Ireth did not seem that concerned about it, only carrying a serene expression as she turned her eyes back to the man before her. She had seen humans before, from afar and up close, but she scarcely interacted with any. She was a type to be wary of strangers, though she did not feel threatened by this man in front of her. Perhaps it had been because of the music they had both shared with each other, but she did not feel threatened. Music did that to people, she found. It could easily change the mood of a crowd at times if someone new just the right notes to play or sing. That was the beauty of music and perhaps one of the many reasons she liked it.

“I have traveled farther in my years,” she said in her naturally quiet tone, “but as you return here I always return to Rivendell. It is quite a beautiful place.” It was where her home was and she could never completely be separated from it. Rivendell was a familiar place to go back to should she ever need, it was a place that she had always known and even now she could never completely abandon it, especially now. One of the reasons Ireth was out here was to scout out the lands closest to see just how far the enemy was willing to go, how close to home they were willing to get. When she was at home she defended it with her life and when she was away she still thought of it and worked to protect it. In a way it felt like a natural duty for her, though perhaps it was for a deeper meaning than even she realized. Of course, she had never really thought much about it anyway.

“I am Ireth Lafaera,” she said with a slight nod to him at her introduction. It was polite to give her name in return for his, and she knew that had probably been his aim. It mattered little though, her name was no secret to keep necessarily. “When I was young I asked my father if I could learn to play,” she said as she looked down at the flute, “he had the instrument crafted for me and called upon another elf, one of his brothers in battle you might call him, to teach me. I would often play for my mother and father, especially when I was younger. Before that I would often sing, but perhaps I shall pick up the ways of another instrument soon. It would give me something new to actively learn.” And to take her mind off things if she needed to. “Is this the place you always sit and play your music?”

[alvin]

Alvin noticed that the young elf – or well, she looked young to him, but she was probably thousands of years older and wiser than him – looked up at the sky. He too glanced up to see the grey clouds threaten to release heavy drops of rain in a few seconds. They shadowed for the sun completely and it even felt as if it was evening time. The elf did not seem to worry about the weather, however no matter how wonderful it would be to stay outside and enjoy the powers of nature, the man decided that he was not in the mood for it today. It was something he liked to do on his own, and now he had some company. He was after all a gentleman first and he therefore decided to offer the girl a drink. “It looks like it is going to rain soon.” He casually commented as he blue eyes rested on her. “Do you want to go inside the Prancing Pony and get a drink while it rains?” Alvin asked her with a comfortable smile.

He nodded at her other reply without really commenting further on it. He thought for a moment about Rivendell and how much he wanted to visit the elves that lived there. He wanted to learn something from them and see their country, but Alvin’s path had somehow never reached Rivendell. He had just followed the wilderness and the small towns on the way to Gondor. He had been in Rohan as well, but he liked the White City the most. It was so magnificent that when he first saw it, he had gasped in surprise. However, no matter how much he loved Gondor, he still loved Bree more than anything. It was his home. The man looked down at his long fingers that were wrapped around the lute and smiled softly. “I would like to visit Rivendell sometime.” He said.

“Ireth Lafaera…” he repeated slowly. “That is a beautiful name.” Not that it surprised him. All elves must have names like that. Alvin listened to her as she told him about the time she learned how to play her instrument. He wondered how many years has passed since that time, but did not dare to ask. He did not know if it was considered rude among the elves to ask about their age. Instead the man just nodded. “This place, and other places. I don’t have a usually place per se. However this is my favourite one because so many people walk this street every day.” He replied and stood up from his seat.

[ireth]

The weather was ever hardly a big deal for elves. It was the reason behind Ireth's lack of care that the rain threatened to pour down upon her fair colored hair and such. When Alvin followed her gaze up to the sky he seemed to think differently as he turned his eyes back to her and spoke, offering a drink inside. Ireth turned her gaze to the place he was referring to, eyes glancing at the sign which hang down in front of the door, glancing to the window which showed that the place housed many people at the moment who would take shelter from the rain, and glanced at the door, which she would have to use to get inside. She seemed to hesitate for a moment. Ireth did not enjoy the idea of being surrounded by so many people, but the people in there would probably not notice her if she kept her hood up. She was not one for attention anyway. “I think that would be fine, thank you,” she said with a small smile back, as if to say the idea did not worry her so much.

She nodded to him when he said he had wanted to visit Rivendell. “Not many men travel there too often,” she said in thought, “but perhaps they will appreciate your music and teach you some new songs as well if you ever go.” Whenever Ireth was back there she always had time to play music for a little while each day. It was a nice place for inspiration sometimes, she found. Perhaps it was because she had so many memories there, but even then the place might inspire someone who had never seen it before out of its beauty. “Other elven places hold interesting sights as well, not just Rivendell. I am not sure how receptive each one would be to you, but it could be an interesting journey for you to undertake,” she continued in thought, “if you ever decided to go.” During her travels she had been to many places, though she had scarcely visited the others of her race. They were a bit different than what she was use to, perhaps only differences an elf might notice, but different all the same.

“Thank you,” she said as he complimented her name. Ireth had half watched him as she told her story, the other half busy looking back into her memories to tell the story. He seemed very interested and the look of another question seemed to hang in his eyes, but if it was really there he did not voice it. She did not ask either, figuring that if he really wanted to know then he would voice his thoughts eventually. As for her thoughts on age, she really did not seem to care too much. Only that she knew that she was rather young for an elf, but that was really all. Being immortal in terms of age she found that it really was not age that mattered so much but how much you learn from experiences you live through. That related to age in that the older one was the more experiences that one was likely to have. Still, different people would learn from experiences differently, some stubborn ones not learning at all. “That's understandable,” she said with a nod, moving to stand closer to him, “are we to go for that drink now?” Her question was accompanied by a slight smile and her hand moving her hood back over her head.

[alvin]

Now, since Alvin was a man he could not help to wonder if she just said yes to a drink because she wanted to get inside while it rained, or because she was interested in talking with him and getting to know him a bit better. He thought about those two possibilities while walking to the door and pushing it open. The man had always liked Prancing Pony inn. It had some really good ale, and its cider was also very delicious. He had to admit that there had been a few times where he had fallen asleep across the table in his drunkenness, or had enjoyed himself with a lovely lady in one of the small rooms there were for rent. Not because Alvin was a player and did it almost every day, but he was after all in his 30’s and it would be unlikable that he had never spent one night with the opposite sex.

However being a traveller, he had never had any long terms relationships. He was sometimes gone for years and no Bree-woman would wait that long for a simple poor bard. As he stepped inside, he was about to bump into a fat bearded man (who looked a lot like Peter Jackson) on his way out. Alvin did not apologise since the man sent him an irritated glare before pushing through and walk outside into the rain. “What do you want to drink?” he asked the elf as he walked up to the bar and raised his hand for the bartender to take their orders. “Actually, I was wondering how to get to Rivendell. Is it easy to get access?” he wondered as he leaned across the bar table.

The minstrel ran his slender fingers through his raven black hair and gently opened his mouth as he exhaled while looking at the prices of the drinks you could get. “You know, I’ve heard on one of my many journeys that there is a place called Lothlorien. It is where a beautiful but dangerous queen elf lives. I think that some Rohirric people told me that story. They say that some people who have entered her forest have never come back…” He moved his blue eyes to Ireth and gave her a warm smile. “Is that true?” He could not help to ask. Alvin had always been interested in such stories – especially when they involved beautiful women. Speaking of beautiful women, from the corner of his eyes he saw a drunk sitting and watching the gorgeous elf from across the bar. He knew that old man, and he was harmless, however his stare may be rather uncomfortable to some. “It looks like Gareth has an eye for you.” He said teasingly and nudged towards the drunk man.

((Gareth and that Peter Jackson-look-alike are both NPCs, so you can use them however you want I love using NPCs ^__^))

[ireth]

Ireth allowed Alvin to move toward the Prancing Pony first, following him with only a few steps distance between them. For a moment she had to wonder about her decision to have a drink with him, but she pushed the thought aside. She really needed to start making some sort of relationships between herself and others for she had kept herself in isolation for long enough through the constant need to travel that she seemed to have. The fact that she traveled alone could also be a danger, especially since the enemy tended toward traveling in packs or bands. She had been careless though, and perhaps a bit youthful in that she was running away from complicated matters. By traveling alone she was able to momentarily avoid her problems and concentrate on getting somewhere or surviving. It was getting too dangerous for that now, though, and she could not continue to place her life on the line like that because she had a problem.

Being so deep in thought she only narrowly missed bumping into the man that was scowling at Alvin instead of watching where he was going. When he saw her pass by Ireth could see the scowl quickly turn into a smile. She ignored him, not liking his smile at all and followed Alvin into the building without another thought on the man or what she had just been thinking before. “I think cider will do for now,” she said in her usual, quiet tone. She followed him up to the bar, taking a place next to him as he made their orders to the bartender. “There have been a few travelers to Rivendell over the past years. I remember one in recent history was a hobbit by the name of Bilbo. He spent a bit of time there, though I had not been there for all of it. He did tell interesting stories of his own people though, from what I remember,” she reminisced thoughtfully, “as for it's location, Rivendell is pretty well hidden and you probably wouldn't just stumble upon it. You can find it in the moorland and foothills of the Misty Mountain. It is at the edge of a narrow gorge of the Bruinen River.” She had to wonder if he would actually go there one day, perhaps she would see him when he did.

When she heard him tell a tale of Lothlorien she had to tilt her head a little, a bit curious to the thinking of men. Ireth really did not seem to think much of the story and she had to smile a little bit at it in fact. “The place itself is very beautiful. When all other leaves would fall as the season changes those in Lothlorien do not. They remain on their branches, turning a beautiful shade of gold and awaiting until new green grow before raining down to the ground. Golden flowers take their place and the whole forest appears made of gold and silver, the bark of the trees being almost a silver color themselves,” she said with a light smile, “the place is protected from evil, though I do not know about anyone disappearing in her forest. It could be possible, I suppose, if the person was of evil heart and mind.” Her own blue eyes found themselves wandering about after she had finished her description of Lothlorien. She had only been there a few times, but she did enjoy it when she was there. When she felt Alvin nudge her she followed his gaze to find an older man watching her with a drunken stare. When she looked over he smiled oddly and waved a bit, causing a bit of discomfort to her. “He is harmless, correct?” She would feel guilty if she had to hurt him because he tried something on her, being that he was obviously not in a normal state of mind at the moment.

[alvin]

Alvin nodded at her order and hit his palm against the bar table to get the attention of the barkeep. “Hey! Some mead and a cider for the lady.” He said to the man with a moustache who nodded in response and walked off to fetch them some drinks. Since the Prancing Pony was also the inn of Bree, you usually met interesting people here. Travellers come and tell stories about their many and sometimes long trips, people with completely black skin is said to have spent a night here before they disappeared at sunrise. Some say that they have seen people with small dark eyes and long braids as well come to Bree, but Alvin did not know if she should believe that. He did not know if there could be so many different people – for all he knew, most people had normal round eyes. Actually, the person who had told most of the stories was that Gareth who was sitting behind the bar. He was a regular customer at the Prancing Pony, so he should have met the guests he had been talking about, however his consume of alcohol made Alvin doubt his honesty.

When they got their drinks, the dark haired man turned to look at the elf next to him and gave her a small smile. He took a seat at one of the chairs by the bar and crossed one leg over the other, as he made sure that his lute was safely fastened on his back. “Even us in Bree have heard the stories of the hobbit… It is quite unusual for them to travel that far – they sometimes come here to Bree, but very few of them go any further. I have actually never had a real encounter with hobbits… Neither with elves for that matter.” He gave her a warm smile. “I don’t know your people’s customs.” He had to admit that he had heard a few stories about the wonders of Rivendell, and he was afraid that if he once found the place, he would somehow insult the inhabitants if he could not act properly. After all, Alvin did not know much about elves. They could be a completely different culture and he did not want to make a clash of his and their culture through misunderstanding and lack of knowledge about the people.

“I actually have a map here.” He said and took up a folded parchment from the pocket of his cloak. Rivendell was not on it and he pushed the map towards Ireth. “Can you perhaps point the place out for me?” he asked and leaned in to watch closely what she would do. “Lothlorien sounds wonderful as well… Perhaps I should make it a quest… To visit elfish places…” He mumbled and looked back up at Gareth. He saw how the man waved at Ireth and Alvin gave him a small smile. “Yes, he is completely harmless. And…” Alvin laughed as he watched the man take a final drink from his beer before falling forwards and hammering his head against the table. “… He is quite a drinker.” He continued while seeing how the man passed out in front of them and started snoring immediately. Typical Gareth.