A Thread and a Song
Jun 16, 2018 11:05:33 GMT -5
Post by Lithien on Jun 16, 2018 11:05:33 GMT -5
The Golden Wood
Autumn 3009
Autumn 3009
Nimble fingers worked the wooden tapestry needle between the taught warp threads that ran vertically. Humming all the while, Lithien sat at the loom, working swiftly to finish her latest project. It was a lovely swath of silken fabric, crafted of fine dusky threads of blue and grey. Already she could tell that this silk would have quite a lovely drape, it was woven in such a way that the textile would have structure, but certainly, it would not be stiff. In fact, she knew that it would make for a fine dress one day. Turning a quick glance to the window, she was slightly surprised to see that dawn was already waiting outside, the morning sunlight warm as it appeared through the trees of Lothlorien.
Had she really worked the night through? Time slipped by when she had something to concentrate on. Finishing her last pass with the needle, she tamped the threads down tightly and began to bind her work off the loom. Blinking, she realized that she’d not seen Father or Brother since the day before. This was the only part of loom work that she disliked; it kept her isolated at times. It was quiet and meditative, but there were occasions where Lithien imagined it would be nice to weave by the fire or in the company of others.
As she neatly folded the silken cloth, an idea formed.
Why not have a smaller loom made? A smile appeared on her lips at the thought; it seemed a visit to the crafting halls was in order. Glancing down at her textile, brows lofted slightly. Though she had originally thought to use it for a dress, she realized that she may be able to use it for trade. After all, there would be time enough for other projects.
The soft steps of Lithien navigated the flets of Caras Galadhon with ease. It was shaping up to be another splendid day in the Golden Wood. The breeze whispered through the branches of the canopy and there even seemed to be an ethereal voice on the wind today. As she grew closer, she could already hear the carpenters at work. There was chopping and scraping and tapping, it was almost like a song.
Her boots came to a halt, pondering which way to go next.
Odothel