She carefully and silently made her retreat, giving the elf his space. By the time the Elvenking came out of his thoughts, she had disappeared again; however, to the Elvenking's trained eyes, she left a clear trail, unlike in Dagorlad.
There was no hesitation as he followed the trail into the forest.
Arin Calad did not even need to turn around or see him to know that the Elvenking had caught up to her again. She could feel his powerful presence and smell the cold evergreen and pine scent feet away. She sighed and slowly turned to look into the dense foliage behind her.
"What do you want?" She asked quietly.
The Elvenking melted out of the dark shadows of the forest just like the way the silvery moonlight would slowly shone through dispersing cloud. She had to steel herself to not gawk like a little girl at the rather ethereal sight. The evidence of her action, clenching her hands tightly together and biting her lips, was obvious. However, the Elvenking misinterpreted the reason behind her action.
He raised his right hand and said with a quietness that, this time Arin Calad was sure, was Elvenking's equivalent of gentleness given the certain stiffness and noticeable lilt to his tone that she had heard previously which reflected his unfamiliarity with such tone and words: "I give thee my word: I will not harm thee."
Well, that was not exactly what made Arin Calad steeled herself, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't at all afraid of facing the great Elvenking of Eryn Galen. The books had painted the Elvenking as a cold and harsh ruler, but she also read between the lines and found the pale-haired elf to be an honorable elf with great pride in his family, his people, and his race. In her world, a word may not mean anything at all, but in his world, a word meant everything.
She wasn't used to trusting anyone's word, but even if she didn't know him, even if she never read those books, she could read people. And right now, she could tell the Elvenking was making a tremendous effort to try and be kind to her, judging by how thick the elf's lyrical accent was.
"Alright, I believe you," Arin Calad said as she unclenched her fingers and looked up to meet his downy blue gaze.
The faint smile of amusement appeared on the Elvenking's face and a small silver glint shone in his eyes: "is it that simple? Just moments ago I saw fear in thy eyes in face of I."
Arin Calad's eyes softened until it was a velvety shade of emerald; although her lips did not smile, the corners of her eyes turned up: "you gave your word, and your word is your honor, isn't it?"
"And how doth thou know that?" The silver glint shone even brighter in the Elvenking's blue eyes.
She did not reply; she did not want to say anything that would give the elf any suspicion what she knew, but even if she did not say anything her face gave her away. Although she was not the open book that most humans were to elves, her emotions were still obvious enough for the Elvenking to see.
"Thou know of I," the Elvenking said with a well concealed wonderment that the Arin Calad barely caught. Her green eyes blanked and turned almost as hard as diamonds. She looked away and into the depths of the forest. "Thou art afraid," realization hit the Elvenking as he said slowly, "but not of I, now, of," the Elvenking tilted his head slightly as he studied her, "is someone hunting thee, Arin Calad?"
She swallowed and shook her head reflexively: "no."
"Thou art not speaking the truth," the Elvenking said thoughtfully; there was a minute of silence before he reached up, unpinned the brooch on his chest, and pulled off his cloak and set it on the ground. She furrowed her brow slightly at the strange action, but her frown deepened when he walked away from the cloak and sat down a few feet away from the coppery fabric, with one leg straight against the grassy floor and the other bent, allowing his arm to rest lightly over his knee. The relaxed posture relieved Arin Calad in some ways, because the elf was sitting in an open position that was less predatory and friendlier. He gestured towards the cloak with an elegant wave of his hand: "please, take a seat."
She bit her lips again; she'd lost count how many times she had done it, but knew there were enough times that her bottom lips had become bruised. She pondered over what she should do and hovered indecisively over where she stood. Finally, she made her decision and slowly made her ways over to the cloak. She sat down carefully; her fingers glanced over the soft fabric lightly as she looked back at him nervously.
"Let us make a trade, Arin Calad," the Elvenking said as he caught and held her gaze firmly, "thou will not speak a word of falsehood, and in return, if there is a question thou doth not wish to answer thou may say so and I will not push."
She breathed in deeply and replied with a guarded look in her eyes: "what if I refuse?"
"Tis thy choice." From the man's history, or rather future and the one that she has read, she was not inclined to believe him, but the steady light in his eyes told her he would respect her decision.
The elf waited patiently as she mulled over her thoughts. She wanted badly to trust someone; she wasn't an extrovert before this, not by far, but she enjoyed making friends and hanging out with them. But she had spent the past year alone, all alone, and constantly in fear of being discovered and what would happen to her if she was discovered.
Once she knew where she was, she thought about looking for Rivendell or Mithrandir. They would have the power to keep her safe, would they not? After all, Rivendell kept Aragorn safe for all those years.
But then she decided against it, because what if they did not believe her? What if they thought she was an evil being?
And then when she realized she was in the Second Age instead of the Third Age, there was no way she could go to Lord Elrond or Mithrandir, because Curunír would catch wind of her, which would mean Sauron would know of her existence and that would mean certain death for her, or worse, certain death for the Free People.
So she chose solitude.
Certainly, seeking the aid of the Elvenking had never even crossed her mind. In fact, he had been pretty high up on the list of people she wanted to avoid, somewhere up there with Sauron, Curunír, Galadriel, the Ringwraiths and Gollum. After all, taking a one-hundred year tour of the Elvenking's Hall alternative wine cellar was not exactly the most exciting thing.
Her fingers scrunched up the soft fabric beneath her hands and she bit her lips so hard that the already pale skin turned white around the edge of her teeth from the force.
The books had described the pale-haired Elvenking as bigoted, stubborn, cold, and a mere centimeter away from being outright cruel, but she was beginning to realize that the elf in the books was not quite the same as the elf in front of her. Sure, he was not going to win any personality award anytime soon, but he was kind, or at least he was trying his best to be, and that, for Arin Calad, meant very much.
If someone had asked her a few weeks ago whether she would tell this elf anything, she would not even pause in saying 'no.' But now, she was not so sure.
Finally she made a preliminary decision: "alright, you have…three questions, for now."
The blue eyes glowed warmly even though the marble façade remained stern: "that is fair," he inclined his head slightly, "you are of Men, are you not?"
She glanced at him in surprise; she had not expected him to ask a question where the answer was so obvious, especially when he only have three to start off with. But she nodded slowly: "Yes, I am."
"But thou art not of any of the Men kinds on Middle-Earth."
She pulled in a breath sharply; she had not expected him to ask that question. She had not even thought it would be something the elf would ever consider. She wanted to deny right away, but she had agreed to not lie, and she refused to go back on her word. While she may not be of this world, she did not like lying any more than the elves. She had to do it before because she thought it was necessary; she thought if she did, she would get what she wanted, or at least what she thought she wanted. But now, she was given a chance to start over, to not be a thoroughly awful human being.
And even if she lied, her gasp had already betrayed her. The surprise had already told the elf his answer, or at least part of it anyways. So she answered, in a voice so soft that it was barely audible over the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze: "No, I am not. I am…to the best of my knowledge, the only one, now."
If the Elvenking was surprised by the additional response she provided, he did not show it; though even if he did, she would not have seen it, because she had looked away from her again, into the forest, which meant she did not notice when the elf's blue orbs suddenly flashed bright silver for a brief second either, or when he turned slightly and looked into the shadowed forest a few feet away from Arin Calad and shook his head with the barest movement.
However, she did notice when the Elvenking stood up in one swift graceful movement causing her to stumble up quickly as well, and stared at him cagily. He gave a very faint smile, but this time it was not of amusement, but of reassurance, and the difference was stunning. This smile made his face beautiful. She was not talking about a physical beauty, because like all elves, the Elvenking was incredibly lovely with physical features that women of her time would simply faint over. Beauty in elves was about as normal as sun emitting UV rays. No, the smile made his marble features warm, and made his blue eyes so soft, bewitchingly so, that she could simply just stare at them all day.
A faint pink flush rose up her pale cheeks and reached up to the outer shells of her ears: "what…what do you want now?"
"I believe we shall continue the conversation at a later date," the elf said to her disbelief.
She furrowed her brow again: "how do you know I will still be here tomorrow?"
Confidence that tittered on the edge of arrogance entered the blue orbs: "you will be safe here."
"Why…why…would you…you…think I am in danger?" She stammered out.
The Elvenking did not reply to her question; instead, the light of amusement entered his eyes: "I will see thee again, labothil." And with that he disappeared into the shadows of the forest before she could say anything else.
It was not until later that she learned labothil meant bunny, or little rabbit.
And then she realized his cloak was still on the ground; she snatched it up and held it out: "wait! Your cloak!"
But there was no movement, and he did not reappear again.
A few yards into the forest, the pale-haired Elvenking stopped and two of his Elven Guards appeared beside him form the forest.
(Lachêl, Astaldë, your tracking have improved.)
(My lord, we were concerned about your absence. The times are still dark.) The brown-haired elf spoke up as he bowed with a hand to his chest.
(Thou worry in excess, Lachêl,) the Elvenking replied dismissively.
(My lord, and what of the human? Should we escort her out of Eryn Galen?) The other elf, also brown-haired, presumably Astaldë, asked.
The Elvenking shook his head: (no, you two, stay with her and ensure her safety, but do not alert her to thy presence. One of thee report back to I tomorrow morn'.)
The two Elven Guards stared at each other in surprise but if they wished to protest, they did so silently. Instead, the two elves bowed: (Aye, my lord,) the two said in unison and disappeared back towards the direction the Elvenking had come from.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the presence of the two Elven Guards, Arin Calad dusted off the silver cloak and carefully folded it into a neat square. She glanced around the empty forest, or seemingly empty forest.
Perhaps she should just leave?
But leaving would mean uncertainty over food and her safety.
And the Elvenking was right.
As of now, Eryn Galen was safe for her. Darkness had not claimed it. The Silvan elves were strong and the forces of evil did not dare to encroach into these lands, at least not yet, evidenced by how the orcs had attacked before the elves entered the forest instead of after.
The Elvenking also did not seem to present any source of danger to her. Given his nature, or the nature the book had described, if he had wanted to jail or kill her, he would have done so by now.
She was still tired, with perhaps the onset of a cold or a flu.
Again, she really did not want to get sick in Middle-Earth.
And the Elvenking had been kind; well, not kind in the literal sense, but he had been as kind as he could be to a total stranger in these times, and for that she was grateful.
It had been so long she had talked to someone who was not an animal, and she enjoyed it more than she would like to admit. Before she came here, she had always thought she would fare perfectly well if she lived as a hermit. Guess there goes that theory of hers.
She wasn't a born loner after all.
And…though it may sound crazy, the forest was also kind. It felt welcoming. It felt…warm. It felt exactly the opposite of what she had expected from Eryn Galen. She had expected it to be dark, and cold. Yet, the forest almost felt like…home.
She let out another sigh and ran a frustrated hand through her hair.
Her stomach rumbled, silently reminding her that she had not eaten anything for twelve hours. She chewed the inside of her cheeks for a few seconds before deciding that she would probably think better on a full stomach so she went off in search of more fruits and edible vegetation.
Twenty hours later, Lachêl dropped down from the branches he had been running on to the forest floor in front of the Elvenking near the Hall.
(My lord, good day,) the Elven Guard bowed his head with a hand over his heart.
The Elvenking nodded as he turned around to look back at the Hall: (report.)
(The human is well; she has not moved too far since yesterday.) Lachêl reported dutifully.
The Elvenking nodded: (has she eaten?) The thoughts of the young woman's wan appearance and frail frame prompted the question out of his mouth before he even processed the thoughts.
This time the Elven Guard stared at the Elvenking in surprise and failed to reply promptly. The Elvenking turned around and raised a pale eyebrow at the stunned guard in expectation of an answer. If the Elvenking had let slip the question unbeknownst to himself, he did not let it show: (Lachêl?)
The guard cleared his throat to cover the awkwardness: (Apologies, my lord. She ate some fruits.)
The Elvenking frowned: (the habits of Men are not as familiar to I, but that is not enough, is it?)
Poor Lachêl probably had less experience with Men than his liege, but he did the best he could with the information he had heard from other people: (I believe you are correct, my Lord.)
The pale-haired elf's frown deepened and remained silent for a few minutes; Lachêl waited uneasily, but he hid it well. He had grown up with the Elvenking, and while he would have negated any statement about the young ruler's cruelty and callousness, he will also admit, although never openly, that the Elvenking was never emotional, and though he cared about his people, the care did not extend to non-elves. It was not that the young ruler hated the other races, but he placed his people above all others. His people's welfare and peace meant everything to him, and as a result, everything else got pushed to a back burner.
This was the first time Lachêl had heard the young ruler expressing care and asked questions about a human, and though the Elvenking may not actually express kindness openly, asking his own Elven Guards to protect a human was more than kindness. It was a gesture that the Elvenking reserved for family.
And this gesture made Lachêl nervous, because it was unexpected, but more than that, it also made Lachêl curious.
He recognized the human woman as the red-haired figure in the Brown Lands. Like the other elves, he had been stunned beyond belief when, by what seemed to be magic, the woman turned a third of the orc horde into ash and lit the other third on fire, leaving the remaining third hobbling with fear and shock.
She was human; her round-shell ears were as obvious as her blazing red tresses. Yet he had never heard of a human capable of such sorcery; therefore, an automatic suspicion dawned on his mind. He was sure the other elves had the same distrust, and before last night he would have said, without a doubt, that the young ruler had the most doubt out of them all.
Yet, he didn't.
And after his observation of the woman, his guard was lowered as well.
There was no malice, anywhere, within the woman. While elves can read humans like an open book, nature were even more sensitive to evil, because they did not have hearts or desires to be manipulated. And Eryn Galen's nature loved the woman. Non-elves, especially those from the Third Age, would have agreed that Eryn Galen was sentient, but they would have said that the consciousness was evil; it was the darkness that had spread from Dol Guldur. But the Eryn Galen in the Second Age was not filled with evil; Sauron had not taken over the ancient fortress yet and poisoned the forest with spells and curses, and cut down any tree or creature that resisted its taint. The Eryn Galen now was a protector of the elves that lived within its boundary; it nourished them and watched over them.
And if Eryn Galen had sensed any evil within the woman, its leaves and branches would not have parted way before the woman when she entered and traveled within its boundaries. Yet, right before the Elven Guards' eyes, the leaves, the branches, and the brambles parted before the woman's path. It showed her its fruits, and gave her the songs and company of its woodland creatures.
Non-elves would not have noticed or known such care by the forest, but the elves could see it, because to the elves, nature and everything it encompasses were all living, breathing beings.
Non-elves would not have noticed or cared to know.
But the woman must have noticed something, because her actions were extraordinary for her kind. Before the woman took something from the forest, she would give her thanks. Beings other than elves never did so, because to them, nature was just an inanimate object there for the taking.
Of course, the two Elven Guards did not know that Arin Calad had read about this world, and she knew, no matter how long the trees have been asleep; they were still alive to her. She couldn't imagine taking a branch from an Ent without asking or thanking them, because it would like taking an arm or a leg without asking. She loved Treebeard in the story. She wanted to cry, when she was a child, when she found out that there would be no more Ents, and that they were dying, all of them.
To her, it was a world of fantasy where trees and animals come to life, and never seemed to be what they were on the surface. And she looked at this world with a reverence for the magic it contained. She wanted to think that once upon a time her world was like this as well, and perhaps if she had looked harder or tried harder, she would have found magic there too, but she knew that was just wishful thinking.
So she chose to preserve what magic she could here by showing the reverence she felt, and hoped, against all hope, that perhaps maybe some magic would survive into the future for Men who would eventually take over Arda.
The Elven Guards, of course, knew none of this. Naturally, they thought it strange for one of Men to do such action. It was a distinctively elvish action from a being who was clearly not an elf. And Arin Calad's action unwittingly helped her lessened her suspicion to the elves.
The young ruler of Eryn Galen finally spoke up: (return to Astaldë; I will be there shortly. Once I arrive, thou may both take thy leave for the day and rest. I will wait for thee and Astaldë tomorrow morn', and thou will continue thy protection.)
Lachêl nodded and bowed his head low with a hand over his chest: (Aye, my lord,) and with that he was gone.
Half an hour later and a few kilometers away, Arin Calad had just cleansed her face and was straightening her slightly rumpled clothes when she felt his presence. She ignored it for now and climbed up a few inches on a nearby tree, and then came down with the cloak she had folded neatly into a square. She turned back to the presence in the shadows of the forest and held out the cloak.
"You forgot this yesterday."
Like last time, the Elvenking slowly melted out of the forest and appeared, an ethereal fae out of the shadows. Warmth seeped into her soul at his mere presence, a feeling that disconcerted her. And she would have gone down a swirling dark hole of panic and thoughts if he had not continued to walk towards her and did not stop until he was mere inches away from her; Arin Calad's breath stopped in her throat and a faint flush rose from her cheeks to the outer shell of her ears, but unlike before, she did not step back. She held herself up against the Elvenking's overwhelming presence that made her insides flip flop like a rollercoaster, and tilted her chin up stubbornly. However, the tension in her shoulders and the way she was biting down on her lower lips gave her anxiety away.
He set the bundle he had in his hands down on the forest floor as he looked at her, his blue eyes seemingly taking her in and analyzing her with robotic efficiency.
The smooth marble brow furrowed at the increased pallor and the dark mottled shadows under her eyes, and the way her breath frosted in shivering gasps in the cold morning air. Her clothes were not overly baggy, but her wrists, thin enough for him to hold both in one hand and still have room left, swam in the sleeve openings.
He took the cloak and to Arin Calad's surprise, as expressed by her muscles pulling so taut that it seemed she might snap with a mere push, he unfolded the square and pulled it over her shoulders, covering her. He folded the top so that the ends would not drag on the ground before he pulled the silver brooch off his cloak and pinned the front of the thick fabric together on top of her left shoulders. The copper fabric made her crimson hair shone even brighter under the warm sunlight. His own cloak now hung precariously over his broad shoulders, threatening to fall to the ground any second.
Arin Calad didn't know what to think or do at the strange and beyond unexpected action from the Elvenking. She could only stare at him with wide confused emerald eyes; the scent of evergreen and pine surrounded her, and warmth pooled in the depths of her soul as she took in the scent. Still in a state of shock, she watched as the Elvenking removed his currently clean cloak and set it on the ground before he led her to sit down on it with his fingers around her wrist; she could feel nothing except the heat of his fingers around her wrist.
Just like before, his mere touch quieted the noise and turmoil within her.
The Elvenking released his hold on her wrist and the uncertainties and disquiet rose again within her. Her eyes widened even more as he unwrapped the cloth bundle on the floor to reveal some sort of bread and cheese, fruits, some sort of smoked meat, and two flasks.
A single shudder went through her when he pulled out a dagger; blue eyes glanced up at her, a light reassurance brightly visible. She let out a breath and gave a nod. A faint smile curved the Elvenking's eyes though, again, did not lift the corner of his lips. He sliced the loaf of bread, then the cheese, and then the meat, stacking the three elements together to form a sandwich. He held the sandwich out to her, and waited patiently as she stared at it, unmoving.
"Thou need to eat," the Elvenking said quietly when after a few seconds she still froze there. It was that quietness she had heard before, a quietness that gave her the same feeling as gentle kindness would.
She looked up and back at him; he did not look like he was about to back down. It just wasn't in his nature. But then she had not think it was it was in his nature to feed a human woman either; yet, here he was.
She took the sandwich from him and under his watchful eyes; she took a bite, chewed, and then swallowed. She managed to take four more bites before her unfortunate stomach protested at the unusual amount and richness, and refused anymore.
She looked back up at him, apologetically: "I'm full."
A frown, unnoticed by Arin Color, cut into his brow again, but was not reflected his demeanor as he took the sandwich from her and set it down on a smaller piece of cloth without any rebuke. He uncorked one of the flasks and held it out to her: "drink."
This time there was only a few seconds of hesitation before she took the flask and took a sip form it. She couldn't help but made a face at the bitter liquid that trickled down her throat: "what…is this," she coughed.
"Herb tea," the Elvenking replied, "keep drinking."
She obediently took another sip before she asked: "do you all just drink this for fun?"
A light of amusement entered the elf's blue eyes, giving them a sheen of silver: "no, tis for health."
"I will take your word for it," Arin Calad winced again as she took a third sip. The Elvenking omitted to mention to her that the herb tea was rarely given out, even to elves, because most of its ingredients were very difficult to find, and some could only be harvested once every hundred year or under certain conditions. And then after mixing, the herb tea had to mature under moonlight for 7,300 nights, and during Sauron's reign, it had been difficult to find a cloudless night for enough moonlight to shine through.
She started to lower the flask but held it up again when a pale eyebrow rose up. By the time Arin Calad had downed one-third of the flask, she could feel warmth traveling down to her hands and feet, and color entered her cheeks and lips.
She let out a slow breath and stared down at the flask in awe: "This is…what was in this?"
Instead of replying to her question right away, the Elvenking asked: "cannst thou eat more?"
She shook her head and said wryly: "I'm now full on liquid too."
The Elvenking nodded and deftly packed up the food; he stood up and held out a hand to her. She took it with an inquiring look before she reached down and picked up the cloak. She frowned at the dirt and leaf stains on the underside.
"You will have a hard time washing this too," she said regretfully.
This time amusement entered the elf's voice: "it hath seen worse."
She looked up at him, a thoughtful look entered her eyes. The Elvenking could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she studied him, her emerald orbs slowly softening until a light warmth entered her eyes, a warmth he had never seen in her before, and a small hesitant smile curved her lips.
"Do you want this back on? It is slightly dirty, but it is still cold," she asked, "I can give you back the…," her hand went to the brooch on her shoulder.
"If tis cold, then thou should keep the cloak on," the Elvenking said and though his tone was quiet, his words brooked no room for argument.
Arin Calad pursed her lips: "okay, without the brooch then?" She held her hand out for the cloth bundle he was holding.
The Elvenking did not reply, but gave her the bundle. She took that as an affirmative. She shouldered the bundle and dusted off the cloak the best she could, trying very hard to push back the sweet and cool scent of evergreen and pine that rose from the cloak she was wearing as her movements shifted the fabric; the scent elicited another draught of warmth within her. However, this time, she was the one who surprised the elf to the extent that his eyes flashed bright silver until they were not blue at all.
She tiptoed and draped the fabric over the much taller elf the best she could, though he also bent slightly to ease her effort. Given that the Elvenking was missing a certain brooch, she had to improvise. She took the black rings from her fingers and slipped one into one of the two corners of the cloak before carefully tying the ring to the cloak leaving a segment of the fabric so that the ring dangled in a loop. Still holding both ends of the cloak together with one hand, she unwound the braided rope that held her braid. She tied one end to one ring, threading it through the lace holes of his shirt in a simple patter to distribute the weight of the cloak thoroughly so that it would not wrinkle or stress the shirt fabric. A deeper red flush forced its way up her cheeks as the work brought her fingers dangerously close to the elf's warm skin that felt almost scalding, although that may be her imagination. She swallowed and then finished tying the other end to the other ring.
Arin Calad stood back on her heels and looked over her work: "it's not pretty, but it's utilitarian." She slowly looked up to meet the elf's eyes and had to swallow again at the blazing silver intensity and the way his nose flared slightly as he took each breath. Her first instinct was that the elf was angry at the infringement on his personal space, but while the silver coloring of his eyes indicated a strong emotion, it did not feel negative.
She took a step back hurriedly and decided to play on the safe side as words rushed out of her in one breath: "I'm sorry. If you dislike it, you can take it off."
The Elvenking did not say anything right away; instead, he took in measured breaths until his eyes slowly returned to its previous sky blue hue until finally he said in the quietest tone she had ever heard from him: "I thank thee."
The tone made her cheeks flushed bright red.
He gently extricated the bundle from her hand and slung it over his shoulders before he held out his other arm to her.
She turned a brighter shade of red if it was possible.
Her hand halted mere centimeters above his proffered arm.
"You are very kind to me…why?" she asked softly but guardedly, looking down at the silver fabric of his sleeve; her stance was not of a rabbit readied for flight this time; instead, it was a hedgehog, prickly, readied to protect herself.
A silver glint flickered in the elf's eyes: "Thou did not need a reason when thou saved I and my people without reason and without hesitation."
She bit down on her lower lips: "I mean no disrespect or insult," she said carefully, "but I am…not an elf. I am not of Eryn Galen."
Eryn Galen.
It was what elves called their home.
Others called it Greenwood the Great.
Men…Men always called it Greenwood.
A silver sheen covered the blue orbs again as the Elvenking felt the last link of inevitability fell into place.
Elves knew; they always knew. The instinct, the knowledge, was built into the deepest part of their soul, of their mind, of their body, of their very being.
And the Elvenking knew, and had known beyond a shadow of a doubt, since that day when he saw her dancing in his woods. He had not known many Men, but he knew it was not the same for them. Most Men did not feel as deep or as long, and most importantly, they did not know, and they did not believe.
But he was not deterred, because he will not lose her; he cannot lose her.
And he knew, she felt.
She trusted him, at least more than she did before.
And she smiled.
It had been a small smile, but he had caught it and tucked it away in his mind like a dwarf hording gold.
But he knew he could not push.
Because elves felt deeper and longer, they could read and feel emotions within others easily. This trait had often been mistaken by other beings as the ability to read their minds.
Elves could not read minds, but they could feel.
And the Elvenking could feel the deep pain and scars within Arin Calad. A steely light went through his blue orbs and a flash of ruthlessness went across his face that went unseen above the woman's bowed head. Someone, a worthless orc of a being who did not deserve to breathe even the same air as Arin Calad, had hurt her before, and hurt her badly.
Now, she had shuttered herself away, in fear and alone, but he knew all was not lost, because despite the grievous wound within her, she believed in the goodness of the world and of the beings in the world.
She still had hope and faith, and the Elvenking did not want her to lose that. He did not want to hurt her.
But he cannot lose her.
His blue eyes shone beautifully as he gazed down at the greatest gift the Valar had ever given him.
So strange that his heart and soul had been filled with such despair and anguish but a few days ago, when the world had seemed so dark and so bleak in his every waking moment. Yet, now, his heart felt whole for the first time in his death.
The Valar took away his people and his father in this fight against evil, but they also allowed him to meet her.
To Arin Calad, the Elvenking's scent alone made her feel warm. It was not the same warmth from Colleen or the forest, which was a welcoming, home-like feeling. The warmth from the Elvenking made her felt safe and dissipated the squall that was usually swirling violently within her. She did not know why.
She also did not know that her presence alone gave the Elvenking not only warmth, but also hope and strength, the hope and strength to go on, to have faith, and to believe.
I am…not an elf. I am not of Eryn Galen.
She was not.
And it did not matter, because she was of his soul.
But those were not his words when he spoke up in that quiet voice that had started to become familiar to Arin Calad: "and I and my people were not Men, yet thou saved us. Let I return the same goodness and kindness thou showed us," he did not want to frighten her away so he chose his words judiciously, "believe I, Arin Calad; have faith in I."
Stress lines deepened around the corners of her mouth when she heard those words. She believed in the courage and the goodness of the Free People despite their faults. Should she not give the Elvenking the same latitude? But that was treading in an unsettling territory, because if she started to think Thranduil was not like what the book described him as, then that meant the book might not be the future that would happen, and that was frightening. The future that was written in the book had to happen.
She bit down on her lower lips, but she did not want to be unfair, especially to the one being that had shown her kindness in this world.
Have faith…
In the end, the Elvenking did cleanse Eryn Galen of evil with Lord Celeborn's help, and Legolas…his son had been brave, kind, and selfless, and an integral part of the Fellowship. Perhaps, like father, like son…
Have faith…
He felt nice.
He made her feel calm, not with insincere words of falsity, but just by his presence and touch.
"Arin Calad," the way he said her name, in that lyrical and quiet tone, made her heart trembled in ways it had never done before. She looked up; her head lifted centimeter by centimeter until finally her dark uncertain orbs met his blues ones tentatively, but when they did…she was lost. She could not breathe; she could not think. His eyes were clear and sharp as diamonds, and his chiseled face was hard and authoritarian like a Roman dictator; normally, the two features combined would set her teeth on edge. Together they made a harsh and icy image, but right now, he did not feel cold to her.
Blue was not cold. Blue was warmth and gentleness in the Elvenking. And the hard edges of his façade were not harsh; they emanated strength that gave her comfort.
And before she could process any movements in her brain, her body had already answered for her. Her hands dropped the rest of the way down through the air and rested on the Elvenking's arm.
A smile lifted the Elvenking's thin lips; it was a genuine smile this time, not just a faint shadow of a smile. Last time the faint trace had made him stunning. This time, with a genuine smile, he looked wondrous. His features glowed with a gentleness and warmth that was reminiscent of the soft silvery moonlight of a warm summer night.
The smile and the heat of his arm underneath her fingers calmed the raging storm within her, and she allowed the Elvenking to lead her on a stroll.