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This RP is set in Middle Earth around the Long Lake and Forest River.
It is a 1x1 between Tineron Deagon and Vidarion.

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It was a day where the sun is out and the air was warm, but the rumble of thunder echoed from the dark clouds pressed up against the Misty Mountains. Vidarion steered his small rowboat to the shore where grass reached out from the trees. Tying off his boat, Vidarion sat back on the grass. It was good to get out of Esgoroth for a time. He didn’t want to work today anyway. Relaxing and daydreaming was more his style, and besides, he could bring in some firewood and some fish by days end.

Vidarion was a 22 year old Blacksmith apprentice, and knew that the only way he could get away with being away from the forge this day was because the master blacksmith had gone to visit the dwarves to get some tools. He lay back in the grass and stared at the sky, watching the clouds move and make patterns as he drifted into a slumber. A dream of elegance and grandeur filled his mind and he saw himself wearing fine clothes and attending a palace ball. But when a cloud obscured the sun, a chill came over him and with a rustle in the nearby trees, he sat up and looked around.

He had a feeling he was being watched, but he felt no threat. He lay back down and watched the grey puff slowly crawl in front of the sun, listening very carefully.

Tineron Deagon, a young elf, watched the man from the bushes. She never lived in Mirkwood herself but always referred to them as her kin. She knew she should be looking for good wood to carve. It was her passion. But this man just... Fascinated her. He was different. She stepped forward to get a better look at him but she stepped on a stick and it snapped with a loud crack.

The snapping stick broke the quiet of the wind in the trees and Vidarion's daydream and he jumped to his feet. His eyes caught sight of someone standing very still looking at him. A fair elf she appeared, and as the wind rustled his own dark hair about his face, so too did it cause her brown locks to dance.

"Hello fair one."

he said in a soft voice, fearing she would run into the woods leaving him wondering if it was only his own imagination.

Her breath stopped in her chest. Fair one? Anything but that. But she did not break the moment. "Galu," She spoke. She hoped he knew Sindarin. At least the basics, all she said was hello.

Being a young apprentice blacksmith, he never was anywhere to learn languages or writing. But he learned much from the spoken word. Ever since he was a young boy, he woud sneak into the tavern and listen to the bards and poets. The words this woman used sounded like those he had heard when a mysterious black-haired eldar woman came to the city. She would use words that sounded similar. Vidarion only got his courage up once to go speak to her then. And now he was being spoken to and he understood not. All he could do is smile and motioned with his arm that she was welcome to come sit by the river.

She walked cautiously over to him. Apparently he didn't know what she meant. She kept a finger on the dagger sitting on her belt. She crouched, and said, "Who are you?"

((Sorry, trying to give you more to work with))

(OOC: are you into one-liner RP? Just curious)

Vidarion watched as the woman walked slowly over to him. When she asked in Westron who he was, Vidarion smiled and said,

"I am Vidarion, a blacksmith of Esgaroth. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting this day?"

Vidarion kept his hands away from his belt, noting she seemed nervous and her hand was by her knife. He had no ill intentions and hoped she could see that.

(Eh. I mean I can)

She watched the lake slowly ripple and lick at the shores, and it was soothing to hear the waves lap. She listened to his response. Apparently he was no threat. Her hand slowly left her dagger, her fingertips lingering only for a moment then she answered,
"I Am Tineron. I am from nowhere and I live in nowhere. I carve on wood."
Well, that profession is reallygreat compared to his. But still, she didn't feel awkward talking to him. His presence wasn't really threatening, just... calming. Her nostrils flared as she sighed. She cursed the old habit she had picked up on of flaring her nose whenever she breathed heavily. She glanced at him, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"Well Tineron of Nowhere, it is nice to meet you! You wouldn't happen to be able to make wooden handles for knives do you?"

He asked her. Seeing she was a bit nervous, he went on to say,

"Please, sit and relax with me. I have some Elfwine if you wish to share it with me I would not mind.

He smiled at Tineron as he admired her features. He turned his gaze away though as he didn't want to sacre her away.

Tineron laughed, “Yes, I can! What type of wood would you like it to be made out of? Would you like any designs?” She babbled, excites to get some work done. Over the past few weeks she had only gotten a few orders. The elf blushed when he looked at her. Well, he was very handsome.

"I have made some blade, btu can't find anyone who makes quality handles. They just need to be balanced. I will leave it to you to decide what designs you want to make. I will need five."

Vidarion was flattered that Tineron blushed and seemed nervous. She was quite pretty to behold. Hehad a hard time turnign his eyes from her, and after a silence, he said,
"If you want to see the blades, we can go into the city and I can show you if you like."

She hesitated at his offer. She didn’t often go into the city, but then again that was alone. She had him to be there.

“Yes,” She concludes the end to her mental debate out loud. “That would be good. “How far into the village... do you live?” She asked rather uneasily. She just couldn’t go into the heart of the town. To far in and to close to danger.

She gazed into his alluring eyes, and she silently scolded herself for wondering what he would be like in bed. “It would be interesting,” She thought, only letting herself admit to that.

Vidarion paused as his eyes held Tineron’s. When his eyes combed down over her ever so briefly, he thought he saw hers do the same. He turned and looked toward Esgoroth as he thought he sensed some uneasiness from her when he mentioned it, he said in an easing voice,

”I don’t live in town most of the time. It is where I work though so I stay there a lot. If you wish not to go so far, I do have one of the unfinished knife blades at a cabin I know of. It isn’t too far and it isn’t much of a place really, but it is quiet and peaceful. Maybe you would prefer that to the closeness of the city?”

Her green eyes seemed to him to twinkle, and Vidarion couldn’t help but divert his eyes from hers. He looked down to the hem of her short dress and how the brown leggings clung to her thigh. He swallowed, trying to push away a thought, but as he again looked at her fair face, he thought he could see a slight smile, maybe more of a coy smirk, on her face. She could not have been thinking similar thoughts, could she? Vidarion found himself taking a deep breath…

Tineron tried not to blush yet again. She wondered why he was looking at her like that, but she realized she was doing the exact same thing. Her eyes dropped to the dirt beneath them.

“Yes, lets go there. I do like quiet over noise. Although, quite honestly who wouldn’t?” She joked playfully.

She noticed that he said it was far. She quickly got up and turned away so he wouldn’t see her tomato face. She followed him to the small house.

The old cabin was set in thick trees not far from the edge of the forest, and it's mossy roof made it hard to see. the sound of a little creek that ran nearby made a trickling sound that danced in their ears along with distant bird-calls. Vidarion opened the door but didn't go it. He turned to Tineron and said,

"Like I said, it isn't much. A bit dank but nothing a fire won't cure. Come in if you wish."

Vidarion stepped in and looked around. It was just as he left it a couple months ago. It was only one room with a stone fireplace on the side wall, some cooking gear, hanging by it, and a jug to gather water in. At the far end there was a small table and two stools, with a loft over it and a ladder at one side. There was a window under the loft by the table, but it was a mossy green as was the small window next to the door. The light was dim, and Vidarion said as Tineron came in,

"I'll get a candle lit, then a fire. It should make it more pleasent."

He turned to Tineron as she let the door close.

Tineron was happily surprised when they arrived at the house. The moss and ivy all over it made it even more beautiful. The forest sounds and sights near them made it all feel dry, cozy and warm, even without a fire. Her eyes watched everything; from the smallest bird’s movement to the trees swaying. She stepped through the door and nodded a thank you to Vidarion. She gazed around the room and took it all in.

“When was the last time you were here? I haven’t seen a house in this style for a very long time. The architecture of it seems very out of date.”

She smiled warmly when the fire was started. The heat of the fire touched her skin and the warmth spreaded all around her body. She stood up to address him.

“Where is the knife?”

"I haven't been here in a number of months. I'm afraid it is not in all that good of repair. Now... where is that knife."

He looked around in teh flickering light of the fire, and carried the candle to the table. He smiled and reached up and pulled it out of the beam that supported the loft.

"Here it is. Just a raw steel blade and hilt. A nice handle would do it wonders. What do you think?"

He walked back over by the fire where Tineron stood warming herself. The fire did take the dampness out of the air. He handed her the blade to look at while he dug for what food he had.

“well, it is still beautiful just the same. And it looks fine.”

She waited while he went to find the knife. Once again, while his back was turned, she admired body. She blushed and turned back to the fire, hoping that the color of the flames reflecting on her face would hide the deep shade of crimson red.

When he came back with the knife, she took it into her delicate hands and ran her fingers up and down the blade.

“You're right. A handle would help a lot. And what kind of blade is this? It’s hard to tell.”

She studied his features as he told her.

Vidarion was mapping Tineron and her subtle movements as she studied the blade and asked about it. He stepped over and stood next to her as she looked at him. He reached over and took the blade, letting his fingers linger against hers for a brief moment. His eyes diverted from the blade to the side of her face for a moment, and he could tell she was blushing even in the yellow flicker of the firelight.

He hoped he didn't make her nervous being so close, so he turned to face her then turned his eyes to the blade and said,

"It is a double-forge hardened steel blade fashioned in the style of a Dunedain blade of Westernesse. This one was my first attempt."

When he lifted his eyes back to hers, he thought he saw her take a deeper breath. He was not sure why, but he reached out with his free hand and gently touched theback of her hand. Vidarion said in a hushed voice,

"You seem distracted m'lady."

The female elf’s eyes met his hastily, scared that he knew what her mind drifted to. She was almost positive that he didn’t have the same thoughts; his were only on the blade handles.


“Dundain? I haven’t seen one of those in a long time.” She then handed the blade back to him.

“Oh, no, I-I’m fine.” She bluffed. Oh, was she turned on. His eyes were beautifully deep and soulful. Her eyes traveled down to his member covered by his trousers. Her leggings were already wet and ready to be touched.

((Sorry is that too short?))