[To Galadriel the passing of hours is hardly anything. She has been at work since they spoke on the network and, when there comes a knock upon her door, she pauses and rises to answer it. Her visitors are infrequent and she is yet unaccustomed to doors, so she does not think to greet her or acknowledge her arrival aloud--there is silence until the door opens.
The woman that stands on the other side would be a Southron in another world; she is beautiful and taller than Galadriel had expected. Her clothing is singular and Galadriel looks her over once before she recalls herself and smiles.]
Greetings. [She has brought a plate of food with her. Galadriel steps aside and welcomes her in with a sweeping gesture of her arm.
Her room is spartan, bare but for the loom in the center, a spinning wheel along the far wall, and a bed. There is a small table with a single chair, a few books and pages of parchment stacked near it, and a window. Against the wall by the door there are a few wooden poles with long swaths of very fine fabric wound around them. On the loom there is a piece of almost misty white gradually taking shape. It seems intangible at a distance and glitters a silver color as the candle on the floor shifts with the draft.]
Please come in, take a seat where you like. I have not many accommodations but what there is, you are welcome to.
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The woman that stands on the other side would be a Southron in another world; she is beautiful and taller than Galadriel had expected. Her clothing is singular and Galadriel looks her over once before she recalls herself and smiles.]
Greetings. [She has brought a plate of food with her. Galadriel steps aside and welcomes her in with a sweeping gesture of her arm.
Her room is spartan, bare but for the loom in the center, a spinning wheel along the far wall, and a bed. There is a small table with a single chair, a few books and pages of parchment stacked near it, and a window. Against the wall by the door there are a few wooden poles with long swaths of very fine fabric wound around them. On the loom there is a piece of almost misty white gradually taking shape. It seems intangible at a distance and glitters a silver color as the candle on the floor shifts with the draft.]
Please come in, take a seat where you like. I have not many accommodations but what there is, you are welcome to.