central_librarylogs | (no subject)

Who; Ecthelion, and OPEN
What: Music - also with a bit of Pied Piperness for the event
When: June 23rd
Where: History section towards Reception
Warnings: Fluff in the thread with Glorfindel
Notes: Ecthelion's decided to play a little music

The dark-haired elf in blue robes felt it was a little too quiet for a living library. And a library was a place of learning, was it not? Ecthelion raised his flute to his lips and set to playing a lilting tune as he walked between the shelves of the history section, slowly making his way back towards the Reception area. He was well aware of his surroundings, stepping out of the way of what he felt was harmless.

Pale eyes watched, only music giving warning to his approach rather than footsteps, and just a hint of cloth ruffling. His hair, while long, was somewhat tamed by a tie at the very end of his waist-length hair. There was a faint glow to his skin, just barely noticeable. He carried no light with him - he'd never needed excess light.

It was only a matter of time before others came looking to see who was playing, since he'd heard no music so far. Come to him, little ones. No harm will come to you!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was the music that drew her near. Tauriel had always been fond of music, but she had not heard a melody so lovely in a very long time. She knew she had to find the source of this song, and so she came, following her ears through the shelves, until she discovered the one who was making such a beautiful song.

She did not announce her presence, for she did not want the music to end. Instead she lingered in the shadows, watching and listening, allowing the song to move her, and fill her soul.

Music drew everyone, in one way or another. One by one, each sliver of attention pleased him. Distantly Ecthelion was aware it wasn't all his own, but it was far too distant for him to worry about. He just enjoyed the music and it's playing.

He saw the shadow move, but kept playing. Giving a trill of greeting, though he did not know the elf. It hardly mattered, there were many here he did not know. On and on he played, fingers tireless so long as there was one who enjoyed his work.

She lingered in the shadows for a while, still listening, falling under the music's spell. It was easy to entrance folk with such a thing, but there was something haunting about this particular song that ensnared her heart and mind. She stayed silent a while, drawn to the music, until...

She shook herself out of the reprieve, suddenly. She was suddenly aware that she did not know how long she had been standing there. Clearing her throat, she stepped from the shadows.

"I fear your music is bewitching me.... Pray, where did you learn to play so well?"

It may be rude to interrupt, but she had to know, and if he continued to play she feared she may never leave this place.

Edited 2015-06-29 01:16 (UTC)

Only a little rude, and he didn't mind. The elf gently lowered his flute as she spoke, feeling the tail end of the music take a few seconds before fading. A faint smile moved to touch his lips.

"It took on a life of its own," he murmured in agreement. Then, to answer, "In Tirion."

Ecthelion stepped forward, hands moving to deftly clean his flute as he gestured slightly to invite her to walk with him. The destination didn't really matter, but he often felt movement helped in conversation with those newly met.

"In Tirion?" She looked at him, surprised, though she supposed she should not be. This was a strange place, and she should not at all be shocked to meet someone who had been to a place that, in her mind, was more of a legend than an actual place.

"Yours must be an interesting tale indeed." When he invited her to walk with him she inclined her head in respect, politely, and fell into step beside him, clasping her hands behind her back. She was curious about him, and so she would gladly walk with him.

This Library was full of surprises. Such as surprise at the mention of Tirion from an elf who seemed to wear similar garments to some he'd seen on patrol before his death. Ecthelion inclined his head a little, affirming the statement.

"What would you wish to know?" It didn't take long to clean the delicate instrument and tuck it into it's protective carrying bag hung at his waist. "Beyond my name, for that I give gladly. I am Ecthelion, formerly of Gondolin." Perhaps more names of legend, he couldn't tell which Ages she'd lived through.

"Ecthelion of Gondolin?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to recall her all her knowledge of history. The name was, of course, one she knew, but she had to admit, while she knew the tale, she was by no means a bard or great student of history.

"What a strange place this is." She mused with a little smile. "I will admit, the places of which you speak have long past into history and legends to me."

He wasn't insulted nor too surprised. Hers was more the kind of reaction he'd expect from those outside Gondolin ~~who hadn't run into Glorfindel~~. Ecthelion let a smile answer hers, though perhaps a touch more wry. Certainly with a hint of remembered sorrow.

"Legends do not fully die so long as they continue to be told. May I know your name and from where you hail?"

I suppose that is true.

*She inclined her head in a polite bow.*

I am Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm. Or rather... I was of the Woodland Realm. Now I am not so sure.