Daeron barely has time to raise the flute to his lips when –SLAP! the unexpected sound of flesh striking flesh interrupts his melody. He looks up to see Lúthien examining a spot on her am with a confused expression. A small red dot has appeared on her arm, and she scratches it quickly before flipping her hair over her shoulder and gesturing for Daeron to start again.
He obliges, but before he gets through three bars, there is another slap, accompanied by a barely audible growl. Lúthien's growls conjure images of small white rabbits nibbling at daisies, and Daeron basks in the utter cuteness of it for a moment. She is glaring at him now, and he blushes and again takes up his flute. An intake of breath and—SLAP!
Not bothering to hide his amusement now, Daeron watches as Lúthien hits her shoulder, wrist, and neck in rapid succession, visibly growing more harried with each obvious miss.
"Princess? Do you require assistance?" he calls, inserting the appropriate note of worry into his voice.
"Assistance? And what kind of assistance would you give, pray tell?!" she nearly yells back (but only nearly- Lúthien never yells), spinning in a circle and flapping her hands at the air. As it is with any of Lúthien's movements, her attempts at chasing away whatever it is that is plaguing her are a dance worthy for any hall in Arda.
Now she is striding towards him, turning to slap at her arms every few steps. "We are going back, Daeron. These confounded insects will not leave me alone! Why Naneth's Girdle does not keep them out I will never understand!" Fuming, she glides back into the wood, Daeron following her like a shadow.
Hidden in her tree, Nellas watches and giggles. Her hands are busy folding up a bundle of leaves and grasses which she then pops into her mouth and chews thoroughly. Spitting it out, she slaps it onto her arm. Still chuckling, Nellas wonders what the princess has against bug repellent.
A/N: I know that I would spend all my time in the woods if insects did not exist.
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~Mooselk