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"If you are not opposed, I require your assistance," Galadriel said to Sam by way of greeting. She bowed her head but, due to the sensitivity of this particular conversation, did not hold with overmuch formality. "I have need of a basin and, for my task, it must be forged anew."

It was difficult to explain the specifics of the vessel she required and doing so bordered very closely on explaining the art she was trying to replicate in Thedas. It was a secret, true, but she withheld details out of concern. Her own power had wreaked some havoc when she had turned it to the methods of this world, she had no doubt that the reverse was just as likely.

"Ellana has shown me your skill in crafting rings, if you would turn it to my task I would be forever grateful."

Galadriel had little clout in this world. Once she had been among the most known of the realm, but she was a stranger here. In Arda, she could have chosen one of a dozen sources to acquire what she needed. She could have gone to the dwarves beneath the mountains, to the sons of Beorn, to her grandsons and their mortal friends--here, she could think of precious few who could acquire a wealth of silver for her. Silverite was not mithril, but it was white and had a brilliance about it--it would serve, but only if she could acquire enough of it to form the whole basin. Fortunately, the first person she could think to turn to was present and easily found.

Madame Vivienne De Fer was a striking figure and her space overlooking the great hall remained, to date, one of Galadriel's favored places to spend time. Vivienne was in attendance today, as she often was, and Galadriel greeted her as she climbed the stone steps.

"I think the autumn light falls kindest across your furnishings," Galadriel commented as she inclined her head. "It is a pity that heavy curtains are the fashion in these lands. I would have light spill across the whole of this hall...but, alas, it is not to be. Are you well, mellon nin?"

The encampment in the valley was not a place Galadriel was wont to linger, for many reasons. Foremost, perhaps, was that it contained the bulk of the Grey Wardens in these lands and she was...to put it mildly...not overly fond of their order. Unfortunately, the man she sought council with resided in the valley, amid the wardens and those who could not be housed within the walls of the fortress...so, to the valley she traveled.

Her templar guard were left behind, abandoned and addled for the duration of her journey; she walked alone, clad in a plain grey cloak that was all too easily overlooked. Unfortunately, concealment was only a valuable asset when one knew their destination--once she arrived in the midst of the new buildings, Galadriel drew back her hood and began her search properly.

Her task was not a dire one but in the presence of so many Grey Wardens, her expression became grim with some speed.

Despite her distant demeanor, Galadriel enjoyed games of all kinds. She was fond of the strategy of them and, privately, she reveled in how little impact they truly had. Thranduil was, after a fashion, renown for his skill at cards and so when she received the invitation to his rooms to play, she took it readily. She did not expect to find the black-eyed boy alongside him, but his presence was not overtly confusing. Those of age tended to drift toward one another, particularly when they were surrounded by the young and the quick.

"As is custom, gwanur nin," Galadriel said as she offered Thranduil a bottle of Orlesian wine. It was a sufficient greeting, for the two of them, and a nearly traditional gift.

Deprived of the wealth of his treasury and unwilling to sell off any more of his possessions, Thranduil had turned what little he arrived with into more by playing cards. Not wholly honestly, but the ends justified the means, as with so many of his choices here. He stops shuffling the deck to stand and greet his cousin, kissing her cheek and leading her to a chair around the largest table in the room. The wine is met with approval, passed to the Outsider for uncorking- doubtless he'll have a fun way to open it- while Thranduil drifts to a sideboard to recover some glasses.

"I thought Duinenor might join us this evening," he says, taking the glasses by their stems and bringing them back to the table, setting one in front of each of them and returning to his cards. "We might teach him one of the Quendi games, and see if he is clever enough to think as an elf does."

And besides, that will mean it won't simply be Galadriel and Thranduil playing, eliminating most of the chances for them to get too competitive.

Galadriel arches a brow at Thranduil's explanation but makes no comment as a glass is set before her. Instead, she regards her cousin and the turns her attention to the Outsider.

"I imagine he will do well," she says. "I also suspect it is fortunate that we've nothing of value to wager.

"Which game shall we play, cousin? Shall I shuffle the deck?"

It's been a while since he's talked with Galdriel, so when she approaches him after practice and moves before him he is a little bit surprised - she stands out so much and yet he hadn't seen her coming at all. Her way of greeting does have him raising a brow, but it isn't unusual that people approach him about making something in the forge.

"A... basin?" Certainly is a first time someone has asked him to make something like that. "That shouldn't be a problem. I'm guessing there are specifics about it?" It doesn't even occur to him to ask what the basin is for, assuming that she merely needs a decorative piece for herself or maybe a gift.

"A few," Ellana chimes in, having stayed silent by Galadriel's side as the woman spoke. "We'd like it to have a high polish, so we'll bring you silverite, and we'd like a little elven decoration on it. I can give you a sketch to show you what, but it shouldn't be too difficult."

"The smoother the interior, and the finer the polish, the better it shall serve my purposes...but an engraving of a design," Galadriel adds and gestures back to Ellana who, quite likely, has her book about her. "Elgarnan's sun? In the center would be very helpful."

Galadriel regards Sam apologetically.

"I have little to compensate you for such work, but I will gladly grant you a favor ere you should require one." It was a kingly price and unfortunately no one in Thedas would know that.

He hadn't even seen Ellana standing there to which he gives her an apologetic look. It hadn't been his attention to ignore her, just Galadriel was quite the presence and had suddenly showed up. After that however his brows furrow a bit in curiosity as he looks between the two women - he's starting to think his assumption is wrong. Even so they're only asking for a basin.

"A few?" Alright a few basins. Not impossible, but at the mention of silverite he raises his brow. "That's a decently rare metal." Obviously they know this judging by how calm and specific they are, but they wanted a few basins made out of the stuff? "How big of basins are we talking about?" And he's definitely going to need sketches. "Are the engravings on the bottom of the basin or along the outside?"

This is certainly sounding like a bigger job then what he first expected when Galadriel asked. Sighing he rubs the back of his neck. A favor, huh? "If you're going to supply the silverite yourself it won't be an issue. It's going to take a bit of time to do everything you're asking for." A finely smoothed interior, polished and engraved? That wasn't mentioning the shape or how big the basins were going to be.

"No, I meant we had a few specifics for the one," she clarifies with a smile. "We only need one basin; don't worry." At least, she's pretty sure they only need one. Scrying isn't something Ellana was ever taught to do, so she'll have to defer to Galadriel on this since she'll be the one actually doing it. Therefore she'll let Galadriel tell Sam what size the basin should be, though she does add, "The engraving goes on the bottom of the visible side of the basin, I think?" She gives Galadriel a questioning look for the woman to let her know if that's not correct, but in the meantime she slips a notebook out from where she'd tucked it into her belt. Thumbing through, she finds what she's looking for and tears out a page, holding it out to Sam. There's a geometric sunburst pattern on the page, which she first drew at the elven ruin the two visited in Emprise du Lion over the summer.

"This is a depiction of Elgar'nan's sun. He's the father god in our pantheon and the sun was his father. He banished the sun when it came down too close to the earth to burn the animals and plants out of jealousy, because Elgar'nan loved them so. Elgar'nan cast his father down from the sky, and only Mythal's intervention brought the sun back to the sky again." There's a bit of elven history for you, Sam.

In truth, the pattern was unnecessary. It was a focusing device and, in lieu of a more familiar one, the sunburst would serve nicely. Galadriel hadn't known the tale before Ellana shared it, but it is apt, in its way.

"I only require one and it must be..." Galadriel holds apart her hands, the distance is just slightly longer than either of her forearms. "No smaller than this. I am uncertain if it can be as shallow as I am accustomed to; the silverite does not shine as brightly as mithril. Perhaps deep enough to submerge your fist at the center."

Sam seemed wary and, of all the aspects of this attempt that deserved caution, this was not truly worthy of concern.

"I will supply the silverite, have no worry, and I am certain this task will be no trouble for you. It is simply beyond my skill." She considers the mage and, after a pause, says: "It is to be a mirror, clarity is key."

Hearing the correction does seem to calm Sam a bit - three basins to these specifics would've been rather time and labor consuming, not to mention a whole lot of silverite. One is still going to take a bit of work though. Not having exact measurements was going to make the process just a tad longer, but he does take the examples into consideration.

Taking the page Sam looks over the design, recalling seeing it in that one elven ruin that he had accompanied Ellana to - the first one - listening to Ellana's explanation. The mention of it being a mirror takes his attention away from the design however, glancing up at Galadriel as he considers that information. Last time he had heard of a mirror being of any importance Morrigan had a rather large one retrieved and setup in one of the rooms off the garden - not available to the public to see, but he had heard about it.

"I'm making something you used back in your world I take it?" After all she mentioned being accustomed to a certain size, and mithril - a metal he assumes - which he is not familiar with.

"Yes, in a way," Galadriel confirms and inclines her head. She is uncertain how much to truly tell Sam but, of all the mages she had met on her first day, Sam was the only who seemed to note her ring and ne'er had he spoken a word about it. He had a good heart and, if nothing else, she had always been fond of smiths.

"In my home it can be done with...clear, deep water. I find that a dish that reflects starlight is as effective as the abyss, but here...here I am concerned the mirror shall prove too difficult to use." It is a considerable admission. "The less left to chance, the more confident I shall be."

She folds her hands before her and regards Sam.

"I oft filled it with a pitcher, but I expect I can find one more easily and at less cost than your time."

"I thought of you first," Ellana says, "Because you're the best blacksmith I know." Naturally she's biased, because he's one of her closest friends who has not only been willing to teach her metalworking, but made her a beautiful ring too. But she truly believes that if anyone can make what Galadriel needs for their project, it's him.

Now she looks up at Galadriel. "If the pitcher doesn't have to be made of anything special, we could get one anywhere." There are plenty lying around Skyhold to fill basins for a morning wash. The mirror is the important thing here. She still doesn't know how it will work, but Galadriel said Ellana would be a part of it, so she's here to see if it can be made.

The gardens are peaceful and secluded, two things that Galadriel found infinitely valuable. Normally, she would wander wander and tend the plants, but on this day she has another task. It would have been better, perhaps, to attempt this in her rooms, where her seclusion would be complete, but she required the sky above and peace around her.

She is seated behind the gazebo, hidden from the view of most, with a plain pewter dish in her hands. It is hard to say what she is doing with it, apart from staring into the water it holds, but her expression flickers from calm to irritation as time passes.

Edited 2016-11-08 04:26 (UTC)

In all honesty he still isn't quite sure what he had witnessed with the ring, but it hadn't occurred to him that it was anything worth making a hassle over. After all he was a learning spirit healer and could hear spirits himself, and she was already going through enough with being considered a demon at the time.

"Hm," he says lightly, considering her words as she explains. Seeing as it was something she did often in her world and most everyone - probably mainly the elves - had great respect for her, Sam doesn't feel that he needs to press for more. A lot of it having to do with Ellana being there and apparently in on whatever this was, and he trusted her. It was just a silverite basin after all.

The compliment has Sam giving a small huff, cheeks turning just the tiniest bit red as he gives her a look with a small small. "I'm not a master, but thank you." Having been working for the Inquisition he's learned a lot and his skill has increased, but there was always more to learn. "I can't make a pitcher, but if you wanted something that would compliment the basin... I could talk to Bonny. She gets wares from Val Royeaux."

"The basin shall be more than enough," Galadriel says and wave a hand slightly to dismiss the thought. It was ultimately unnecessary.

"How much silverite would you require?"

"Yes, I'm sure there are extra pitchers here, but thank you for the thought, Sam." She does wonder how much silverite this will take, but she knows it can be collected around Emprise du Lion, so that's one place they can search for it, unless Galadriel has other ideas.

How much silverite will he require? That is a good question. Looking back down at the sketch, Sam clicks his tongue a couple times. "I'll have to draw up a few sketches and figure out the dimensions first. Once I've gotten something you approve of I can calculate how much silverite you'll need." If it was a common metal he'd just have them collect a whole lot and be done with it. Silverite would be harder to find, so he wanted to have a good estimate to give them - not too little or they'd have to go back out, and not too much which would take more time.

"I trust your judgment, worry not," Galadriel says and resettles her hands. "Once you have determined what it shall require, please send me word. Whether we must wander the wilds or purchase it, I shall acquire the materials for your use."

"Will the engraving prove difficult for you?"

Ellana is excited that plans are moving forward. Even if it turns out that Galadriel can't accomplish here what she could at home, the attempt will be made and that's worth a lot to her.

"You should see all his tools! I'm sure he has at least a dozen that could be used."

The basin was going to be a more decorative piece then what he is used to, but something he would be able to accomplish. He was going to need to make a mold, which would take some more time, but since they needed to collect the materials still it worked out just fine.

Right, the engraving.

Sam smiles at Ellana's praise, shaking his head just slightly as he goes over the design again before looking up at her. "I'm going to need Ellana's help momentarily for the engraving at some point. Just to make sure I'm getting it right."

With the Outsider now having moved into Thranduil's rooms, there are a few differences. Perhaps most notably are the piles of bones, both natural and carved, stacked near the bed that the Outsider has claimed (or been ushered to, as is more likely) and the increase in darker colors, especially blacks, blues, and purples. There is also the fact that one of Thranduil's rings is on his finger instead of one of the all black rings.

It's the elven ringed hand that grasps the bottle of wine, turning it this way and that before setting it on the table. Both hands settle in his lap and then the cork seemingly pops itself out, telekineses having tugged and pulled it out. The cork then rests on top of the deck, a subtle but clear "ta-da" for their approval.

"The two of you have had that benefit of practice with others," he says after a moment, head tilting toward Galadriel. "I have watched many games and many players, but playing against another is a more recent development."

He smiles, a pleasure born of pride, a quirk of his lips wholly accredible to the Outsider's actions. He leans forward to take the cork, tapping it against the top of the deck idly. What game, indeed?

"What, cousin, you think I would cheat?" But he hands the deck over to hear, taking the wine and pouring a measure in all their glasses before settling back against the chair and crossing his legs, lazily taking up the whole of the space allotted to him.

"Deer in the glade?" He suggests, breaking to take a sip of his wine. "Fool? Or perhaps twenty-four, which is good to begin with. It might help him settle in. Galadriel, what was the game you taught Celeborn? The one with the piles."

Edited 2016-11-09 02:32 (UTC)

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