Wandering Paths
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Elenor and Melia
As Elenor looked curiously around her rooms, she felt a sense of awe and gratitude. They were simple but elegant, exactly to her taste and positively luxurious compared to what she had been used to.
The high arching ceiling was crisscrossed by wooden beams that shone like silver, while the windows and doors opened out onto a wide terrace, gauzy drapes fluttering in the warm breeze. Elenor inhaled of it deeply as she let her pack and quiver fall from her shoulders, feeling a burden lift from her, and not just from her back but her soul as well. She'd done it, she had found Imladris and brought her people safely to shelter.
Smiling a little, Elenor sat down upon the luxurious bed, still gazing around her in wonder. The mattress beneath her was softer than down, the coverlet of cool golden silk. Behind her, the headboard rose up into the carved figure of an Elven lady, beautiful and serene. Beside her bed stood a small carved table, and an intricately wrought candelabrum, while just across from the room stood two comfortable armchairs before a crackling fire. Through another door, Elenor found several empty chests that she guessed were for clothing, and her bathing chamber.
Just as she was inspecting the bathing chamber more closely, a knock came at her door in the main chamber. She darted back out to open it, revealing a tall slender Elf-maid, with long black hair that covered her back in shadowy splendour. Clothed in bright silks the colour of an unclouded sky, she bore a package in her arms. "Le suilon, Lady Elenor. My Lord Elrond sent me to you with this gift and asks you to join him for dinner after you have refreshed yourself," she explained, with a gentle smile, proffering her package.
"Thank you. Tell Lord Elrond I would be delighted," Elenor replied graciously. "What of my daughter, Melia?"
"She is invited also. She is just down the hall, and I believe, she is bathing currently," the Elf-maid bowed slightly, before turning to walk away.
"Wait!" Elenor called, stepping outside her room. The Elf-maid paused. "What is your name?"
The Elf-maid's face brightened, and she laughed. "I am named Faelwen. I shall come to guide you when dinner is ready."
And with that, the Elf-maid was gone as if she had never been there at all. Elenor retreated into her room, laying the package on her bed before unwrapping it tentatively. And promptly gasped when she saw what was inside.
Within lay a square of shimmering silk the colour of a forest meadow, which when she lifted it from its wrappings, unfurled into a beautiful, simple gown of the same style she had seen on the Elven women. Its draped sleeves brushed the floor, gauzy and transparent, while the scooped neckline skirted just beneath her collarbone. It was largely unadorned, but as she inspected it closer, Elenor could make out delicate patterns in the silk, swirling and entwining hypnotically.
Something in her almost baulked at wearing such finery, but it would not do to offend Lord Elrond in refusing his generous gift. With a sigh, Elenor laid the dress down on her bed and began to untangle the lacings of her jerkin. When she was unclothed, she went to her pack and retrieved her comb before stepping into the bathing chamber. No use wearing such finery if I'm as filthy as a swineherd…
When she was washed and dressed, she debated what to do with her hair, swiftly drying in the warmth of the summer sunlight. It fell in tight curls to her waist, and she struggled with it for a few moments before simply leaving it be. She had no desire to waste time attempting to re-braid it tonight.
When she was finished, there was no sign of Faelwen, so she slipped from her room, leaving the pile of travel-stained clothing on the floor, determining to ask the Elf-maid where she might be able to wash them when she came for them. In the meantime, she searched for Melia.
She didn't need to go far. Her daughter's room was right next to hers, and as she slipped inside with a knock, she glimpsed her daughter standing outside on the terrace, her golden hair streaming in the breeze, her form draped in silk the colour of the sky at sunset. Elenor stopped, arrested, at the sight of her daughter looking so beautiful and so grown-up, no longer the tiny child she would protect with her life or the mud-splattered young girl who glared with anger and hate at those who had thrown insults their way. She was a woman, and it both warmed and hurt Elenor's heart to realise it.
As she approached, Melia turned to face her and the smile on her face surprised Elenor. It was bright and filled with a joy so fierce, she'd never seen the like of it in her daughter before.
"You look absolutely radiant, Melia," she breathed, a smile of her own dawning.
"I just cannot believe that we are finally here, after so many years of waiting," her daughter replied, taking her hand gently and stroking it. "What did Lord Elrond say of the letters and your ring?"
"Very little, and only that he would investigate further," Elenor shrugged. "For some reason I know not, I find myself trusting him to keep his word."
"That is not like you, Mother, to trust anyone so easily," Melia remarked with a slight smile as she released her mother's hand and sat on the edge of her bed.
"Perhaps it is foolish of me," she sighed, looking down at the intricate patterns of her gown. "But I cannot help it."
Before Melia could reply, a knock came at her door and Faelwen entered, smiling at them both. "Dinner is ready. Come and I will show you to the terrace."
As Melia and Elenor walked, they both looked around them with wide eyes. They'd seen some of the house when they had been taken to their rooms, but as they were taken ever deeper into Imladris, they comprehended the true size of it. The roar of the falls provided a raging counterpoint to the soft sound of Elves singing, and the sky was now dark, the first stars shining far above.
Everywhere they looked, they saw exquisite works of art covering the walls, cunningly carved and moulded furniture, made to look as if it had been twisted out of the very wood itself, and the few walls that did not display some tableau from the history of Middle-Earth bore shelves upon shelves of ancient books and scrolls. Elenor inhaled deeply, the scent of ink, old parchment, candle wax and a sweet fragrance filling her lungs.
"Faelwen, how many Elves live here?" she asked curiously, spotting a few here and there, walking gracefully through the house and the buildings beyond. But not as many as she'd thought.
"Only about two score of my kin remain in residence where once there were many hundreds," Faelwen explained. "After the Last Alliance, many chose to go to the Grey Havens and sail West. There are only a few places now, in Middle-Earth, where the Eldar may be found in large numbers."
Elenor nodded, saddened slightly by the news. Melia cocked her head, confused.
"The Grey Havens? What are they?" she asked next. Faelwen smiled patiently, and Elenor wondered exactly how many questions the Elf-maid had already answered for Melia.
"The Grey Havens are an Elven sanctuary on the shores of the Great Sea, in the Gulf of Lune. Cirdan the shipwright dwells there still, aiding those who wish to leave Middle-Earth until the last ship sails," the Elf-maid replied softly. "Many of my own kin have already made the journey."
She fell silent after that, and neither Melia nor Elenor asked anything more of her. Finally they came to the main terrace, overlooking the Falls of Bruinen, and the valley before them. A table was set ready, a high-backed chair set at its head, and four smaller seats set on either side. It was piled high with foods, fresh leaves, tomatoes, onions and beans, ripe apples and pears, plump grapes bursting with juice, and loaves of bread fresh from the oven. Elenor could smell them from where she stood at the steps of the terrace.
In the corner, an Elf-maid in golden robes sat plucking at the strings of a harp, seemingly intent only on the music she played but Elenor felt her piercing glance for a moment as she and Melia stepped onto the terrace, and Faelwen left them.
Elrond stepped forward from where he stood at the railing of the terrace, with a courteous smile as he took Elenor's hand. "Mae g'ovannen, Elenor and Melia," he said. "Come, eat with me. Tonight you may rest in the knowledge that your people are well-taken care of, and you are safe."
"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Elenor smiled as he led her to the seat on his right, and Melia sat beside her.
"My sons, Elladan and Elrohir will soon be here," he explained further. "Once they have washed and changed. My table is almost full."
"Who else sits here?" Melia asked.
"My daughter, Arwen, usually sits opposite me as the Lady of Rivendell, and before her my wife Celebrian," he replied softly, his face softening slightly. "But my daughter is away in Lothlorien and my wife long ago departed for the Havens."
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to pry-" Melia gasped her apology, as they heard footsteps behind them.
"Nay, young one. I do not take offence. Curiosity is the blessing and the curse of the young and I have raised three children of my own. I am long used to it," he brushed it off, smilingly as he looked to the two tall Elves, alike in almost every way, that hurried down the steps towards them.
"Melia was always insatiably curious as a child," Elenor agreed, smiling herself, watching with interest as one of the two Elven lords brightened at the sight of Melia.
"Lady Melia!" he called, laughing. "I had hoped to see you here. Well met, my friend!"
He grasped her hand, as Elenor and Elrond glanced at one another with warm, secret smiles. The other watched with curious eyes before he spoke. "Come now, brother mine. Do not keep her all to yourself; introduce us!"
"Lady Melia, this uncouth ruffian is my brother, Elrohir. Elrohir, the Lady Melia," Elladan made an elaborate gesture that had both ladies laughing. "And her lady mother, Elenor."
"I am no lady!" Melia laughed. "Just call me Melia, please. It is an honour to meet you, Lord Elrohir."
"And I you, Melia. And if I am to call you such, then you must call me Elrohir," the other twin replied courteously. Elladan merely rolled his eyes before he bowed over Elenor's hand gallantly.
"I did not have the chance of making your acquaintance properly this afternoon, my lady. It is an honour to meet a lady so valiant and hardy," he told her, and Elenor smirked.
"I see you have inherited your father's gallant tongue," she replied smartly, and he grinned mischievously.
"Come now, my sons," Elrond called from his chair, smiling at their antics. "Let the two ladies alone to eat, and come report to me what you found on our Northern borders."
The two brothers sat opposite them, and the four set to their dinner. Despite the lack of meat, Elenor and Melia were well-satisfied, as they ate but remained silent, listening to Elrond and his sons as they discussed the patrols of Imladris' borders.
There was apparently little to report. There were signs of Troll movements close to the Ettenmoors, and traces of Orc-packs within the region but far from the borders of Imladris. Elenor was relieved there appeared to be little sign of pursuit from the pack that had attacked and destroyed their town. She'd suspected as much from their own patrols while journeying north, but it was a relief to know they had not been tracked. Nonetheless, a desire for vengeance burned in her heart, and she knew the men would not rest easy until they had avenged their homes on the Orcs too.
Finally, as the table was being cleared and small plates of honey cakes and herbed water were set out, Elrond turned his attention to Melia and Elenor. "I must not neglect my guests," he said with a strange smile. "How do you find your rooms?"
"Beautiful, my lord," Melia replied easily enough.
"You have been very generous to us, my lord," Elenor added with a slight smile. "After dinner, I wish to go down and see how the townspeople are faring, if that is permitted?"
"You are permitted anywhere, Elenor," he stated firmly. "You are guests here, not prisoners. You may go where you please."
"I am sure Lindir would be only too happy to show you to the encampment after dinner," Elladan added. "And on the morrow, we must see about arranging more raiment for you both. Perhaps one of the seamstresses could be persuaded to take your measurements before you both retire."
"Oh, truly there is no need!" Elenor protested, though politely. "Your generosity warms my heart, my lords, but I cannot presume so much and I have no way of paying for such luxuries-!"
"As I have said and will keep saying, my lady Elenor," Elrond interrupted her sternly. "You are our guests and you shall be treated as such. There will be no payment required other than that you accept my generosity and are happy with them. I need nothing else."
Elenor felt Melia's amused glance as she gaped at Elrond, her jaw slack. Very few had shown such generosity to them before, and without apparent thought. He must want something for such kindness!
Outwardly though, she said nothing, merely nodded and looked down. Melia chuckled. "My lord Elrond, I do think that is the first time anyone has ever struck my mother speechless," she said laughingly, yet her eyes were sad. She knew her mother's mind and privately wondered why she was less sceptical and suspicious than her mother. Was it because she was young and had more hope?
The twins laughed but Elrond merely regarded Elenor gravely, with a gentle smile. "It is clear that you know little of common kindness, my lady," he murmured to her. "You will learn much of it here in Imladris, I promise you. I shall treat you as one of my own kin."
"You humble me, my lord," she sighed, her eyes bent on the tablecloth.
"Now my dear Melia, we are quite neglecting you!" Elrohir said quite jovially. "It is growing late and you must be weary, but if you are willing, my brother and I would be delighted to show you Imladris in the moonlight. By day it is beautiful, but by the light of the moon and stars, it is without compare."
"I am not weary and I would be glad to. If I may, Mother?" she looked to the older woman questioningly, but she just smiled and nodded.
"You do not need my permission for this, Melia," she reminded her gently. "You are grown now. Do as you please, within reason," she added, sternly. Melia rolled her eyes as the twins rose and begged leave of their father. Elrond gave it, and the three rose and disappeared into the house. Elrond poured Elenor more wine, and they took their goblets and went to the railing, the music of the harp still echoing softly around them.
As Elrond watched the young mortal woman in the moonlight, he noticed her gaze resting on the harpist in the corner, almost yearningly, and finally decided to ask a question that had been plaguing him for some time. "My lady, there is something about your story that has been puzzling me," he began carefully, as her gaze swung to him questioningly.
"What is it? I swear, I will do all I can to explain," she replied firmly, and he noted the slight evasion. He was not certain why he had not noticed the discrepancy in her story earlier, but the shock of her claim and her tokens had driven it momentarily from his mind.
"You claim the letters bear some secret you know not, yet you knew to come to Imladris. How did you know that but not the secret the letters bear?" he asked, and she looked away and he was surprised to see shame in her face.
"My grandsire, Arahael," she began haltingly. "I do not know for certain, but he seemed…determined to keep any knowledge of my heritage from me. He forbade my mother from telling me and it was only on her deathbed when he could do no more to harm her that she told me what she could. I cannot know the secret, my lord, because I do not know how to read."
Elrond stared at her, his mind reeling. What newborn hatred had driven one of the Dunedain to do something so cruel? To deny a child the knowledge of her heritage, to use barbarity to keep it from her? "You know nothing of the Elvish scripts or runes?" he asked for clarification. She shook her head, her cheeks red with embarrassment as she kept her gaze focussed far away from him.
"I learned only one scrap of song in Elvish, and I have no idea what it means in the Common Tongue," she told him stiltedly. "My lord, I apologise for my ignorance. Had it not been for the tyranny of my grandsire, I assure you it would not exist otherwise."
"And Melia?" he asked, feeling anger brewing in his heart but he kept it bound in chains. His anger was not with the woman standing beside him, but with the brute who had denied his own granddaughter something so wonderful and expansive as knowledge.
"She cannot either. My late husband thought it useless for a maid to know her letters, as is the way of the Rohirrim I am told, and my great-grandsire forbade her learning anyway," Elenor answered, honestly. "Are you so displeased, my lord?"
Elrond sighed. "Not with you or yours, my lady. It is a crime to let such ignorance and hatred deny others of something so fundamentally natural as reading and writing. I would rectify that, if you wish it. For you and your daughter?"
"Y-you would teach us to read and write?" Elenor was stunned and for a moment, speechless. Tears started in her eyes and she dashed them away angrily. "Truly, lord, you are too generous."
"Nay, Elenor," he reached out and tilted her chin up, his eyes kind and sad. "It is no trouble and it is your right to knowledge, a right that was denied. I am rectifying that crime," he explained softly, releasing her chin. "That answers the riddle of the letters, then. If so, I could translate and read them aloud to you or you could wait and read them when you have learned to do so yourself?"
"Will they tell me who I am?" Elenor asked, still quiet and angry with herself at her weakness, still wary.
"Nothing and no one may do that, except your own heart, my lady Elenor," Elrond answered candidly. "But they may provide some clues to your existence. I have some researches of my own to do, to discover the truth of the claims, which may take some time but I can read them to you now if you so desire?"
Elenor thought for a moment, before she shook her head slowly. "Nay," she whispered. "I do not wish to read tales better-suited for a campfire if your researches are proved fruitless. I will wait and when you tell me if they are true or not, then I will read the letters. Until then, my daughter and I will accept your offer of tuition."
"Excellent," her host smiled, inclining his head once more. "I will arrange it on the morrow. When you are rested from your journey, you may begin your studies."
Despite her frustration and anger, mostly with herself, Elenor felt a thrill of excitement flow through her veins like an icy wave.
That night, she was pleased to discover the townspeople contented and well-cared for when she visited the encampment, only a short walk from the entrance of Imladris. They had plentiful supplies of food and clothing, plain and simple but well-made and warm, and comfortable bedding. The nights were warm and Elenor did not fear for them in their stubborn suspicion of the Elves.
They'd regarded her suspiciously too, in her Elven dress, but she could not care less. She had brought them to Imladris, and she was free of the effect of their suspicion now. They no longer had any hold on her.
Before she'd retired, two Elves had taken her measurements for her new raiment, and promised her they would have it for her within a day. They'd even asked her preference for colours and patterns, which had flustered and confused her. She was not used to such luxury or choice.
After that, she had dressed in a simple shift she'd found in place of the pile of dirty clothing she had left, and slipped into Melia's room to find her daughter already asleep. She had slipped into her bed and held her while she slept, stroking her moonlight-silvered hair as she clung to her in sleep, before finally drifting off herself, to the sound of soft singing and the music of the falls.
A peaceful week passed, with Elenor making regular visits to the encampment to check on her people and ensure they wanted for nothing, but it seemed the Elves were generous despite the coldness and suspicion of the townspeople. Just a week later, and she could already see some colour returning to the cheeks of the children as fear and tribulation began to fall away and health slowly returned. Doron and his cronies made little trouble, seemingly too awestruck and fearful of their surroundings to bother, and for that Elenor was grateful although she doubted it would last.
As for Melia, Elenor noticed she was blossoming, as if the very air of Imladris had made her shine. She already looked fuller of figure, and her bones no longer stood out so starkly. She noticed she spent much time with the sons of Elrond as they showed her the Valley and ensured she learned her way around.
As the week passed, Elenor almost thought that Lord Elrond had forgotten about his promise about tuition, but it was not so. On the seventh day since they had reached Imladris, Elenor was accosted in the gardens by a tall, dark Elf who bowed to her respectfully.
"Mae l'ovannen, Lady Elenor," he murmured quietly. "I am Erestor, of the House of Elrond, and Keeper of the Libraries of Imladris. My lord has recruited me to become your tutor. I hope that is acceptable?"
"Indeed, Master Erestor," Elenor inclined her head, deeply honoured. "I am looking forward to your lessons. When shall we start?"
Erestor laughed, his hair flashing in the sunlight. "So eager!" he teased her softly, his eyes reassuring her he meant no slight. "From tomorrow then, meet me in the south library at the hour after noon. We will work until dinner," he continued, as they paused at the doors of the great house, and Elenor shivered as she felt a familiar gaze on her face, but when she looked up into the shadows of the gables, she could see nothing.
"Thank you, Master Erestor," Elenor inclined her head in parting as the Elf left her, before she once again scanned the shadows, looking for the owner of the eyes watching her every move. But she saw nothing, even though she sensed his scrutiny.
She did not know why the dark Elf who assisted Lord Elrond seemed set on watching her so closely. He mystified her, since they had barely exchanged more than a few words since her arrival, and yet she felt drawn to him. A physical tug in his direction that made her wary and determined to resist. He was of the Eldar, and she had long learned to distrust the motives of men. She did not doubt that male Elves were not all that dissimilar, despite her instinctive familiarity with them and their world.
With a sigh, she entered the house and tried to put him from her mind as she went to seek her daughter.
Lindir found himself watching the mortal woman yet again. In her simple green gown, she was unremarkable yet he could not tear his eyes away. He felt almost possessive of her, despite barely knowing her and knowing he had no right to such feelings. Her mortality, which should have repelled any such foolish flight of feeling, only made him seemingly more desperate to keep her in his sight, for the fleeting instant of life she possessed. He barely knew her, but he was drawn to her, and it greatly disturbed him.
With a sigh, Lindir resolved to learn more of the mortal woman, if he could not maintain his distance. He needed to find some opportunity to learn more of her, and since Erestor had taken the role of tutor, he began seeking some other way to know her, in his mind. Hopefully, such knowledge would allow his fascination to fade.
Yet another thing happened that day to disturb Elenor. When she returned to her rooms, it was to find new raiment ready for her but also a box containing intricately carved pieces of jewellery, golden diadems that would stand out against her red waves, and golden chokers inlaid with shining amber-hued gems. The raiment was beyond anything Elenor had ever seen.
There were breeches, jerkins and cloaks in shades of deep greens and browns, including her old gear all mended and re-stitched, but in such a way that they almost looked like different garments. There were new boots in the Elven style, and one suit of practical travel gear was of a deep red hue, accented with silver bracers and a belt made of some shining metal that Elenor had never seen before.
And then there were the gowns. Made of silk so pure, it felt like water in her hands, they were many coloured and patterned in hues of blue, green, red and dark purple, all to her modest taste and desire, but two stood out from the rest and caught her eye. One was a pale blue with an underlay of deeper hue, like forget-me-nots against a clear summer sky. It was simple and unadorned, but elegant, seemingly finished with a golden girdle, rippling like water to the floor.
The other was of a dark indigo, sheer and weightless, over an under-gown of amethyst patterned with white. The overlay held no decoration but two swirling silver motifs on the long, trailing sleeves, and a dark blue belt. Oddly enough the blue felt too special for ordinary wear, and as Elenor tried the purple gown, and it fitted like a glove, she felt yet again that inexplicable surge of homecoming, as she turned to the mirror and stared at herself.
She couldn't tear her eyes away.
"Mother?" Melia's soft voice broke though her reverie, and she spun, her jaw dropping when she saw her daughter. Melia was gowned in softest pink, like the petals of a rose newly unfurled. The trailing sleeves was bound at her upper arm, falling away to reveal even longer sleeves underneath in the darkest shade of pink Elenor had seen, like the corona of the sun at its setting, her narrow waist accentuated by a wide, long sash patterned with flowers. A necklace of gold and rubies sat at her throat, artfully woven to look like the trailing branches on which flowers bloomed, and her golden hair was long down her back.
Melia stopped too, seemingly struck at the sight of her mother looking so elegant, and her eyes brightened. "There's just one thing missing," she muttered firmly, her eyes going to the box on Elenor's bed. Her eyes alighted on the choker with amber gems, and she snatched it up before Elenor could protest, fixing it around her neck.
"We cannot possibly accept these gifts," Elenor breathed, still in disbelief. "Lord Elrond is truly being too generous."
"Oh, Mother stop it!" Melia's firm command shocked her out of her disbelief, and she stared at her incredulously. Melia was unyielding as she eyed her parent narrowly. "You always look for the ulterior motive in things such as these, but this time, there are none. It is simply the Elvish way, and from the look of things, you've already accepted them. Now come, dinner is nearly ready I think, from what Elladan told me."
Elenor was still too shocked by her daughter's stern criticism to speak much at dinner, as she considered what her daughter had said. Was she being too cautious, too wary? Could it be that she was wrong?
Or was Melia being too impulsive and trusting?
True enough, Lord Elrond had refused to listen to anything Elenor said about their new raiment and the gifts, saying it was merely the Elvish way, and of the Noldorin in particular, to see thing they had wrought worn and used, rather than frittered away jealously, and that the jewel wrights who made them would have been pleased to see their work so cherished and displayed. After that, Elenor had given up and merely listened to Melia talk excitedly with Elladan and Elrohir of the archery fields and the weapons forges they planned to show her tomorrow.
She felt Lindir's gaze upon her once more, but refused to show her susceptibility to it.
Later that night, she went walking in the gardens under the moonlight, feeling oddly desolate that once again, Melia was gone on some errand with the sons of Elrond. She briefly thought of seeking the company of Eadwine, Miriel and Daewen down at the encampment, but dismissed it. She did not belong there, either.
As she walked under the blossoming trees, she began to sing softly, the tiny scrap of Elvish she knew. It told the tale of Beren Erchamion and Lúthien Tinuviel, to a small degree, and she found some comfort in its lilting strains, memories of her mother singing it to her at night warming her, as she walked under the stars.
A cool voice interrupted her singing, as she spun to face her intruder. "You sing well and with feeling, but no technique. You have never been taught anything of music, it is clear."
She didn't relax as Lindir came closer, his face oddly open and inviting that night, instead of the icy reserve she usually saw in him. "Master Lindir, you startled me," she breathed, standing tall and proud before him. She was almost as tall as he. "And here I thought we'd dispensed with such Elvish traditions as staring?"
Lindir noted she was less wary of him now, less careful of being polite, and it pleased him more. He smiled as he stepped forward to her side. "I heard you singing from the terrace and came to investigate," he lied smoothly. "I know Erestor has claimed your afternoons to teach you to read and write. What of your morning hours?"
Elenor stared at her, wide-eyed. "What are you about?" she asked, warily.
"I merely wished to ask if you would like to explore your voice, and music, further," he replied softly. He met her eyes unblinkingly, as if to communicate that he meant her no harm, as one does to a horse wild with suspicion and fear. It both riled and soothed Elenor, a contradiction that both confused her and made her suspicious. But she was tempted…
She looked up suddenly, realising she had looked down in her ruminations, and was startled to find Lindir standing so close to her. A warm haze was over his dark eyes, and his smile was free and unguarded. It sent a drop of warmth to ripple down her spine and pool in her abdomen, and she mentally cursed her susceptibility. "I will come to you after breakfast," he said, gently but firmly. "I have much to teach you."
"I had not accepted," she retorted, regaining some of her backbone and bristling.
"Then you wish to decline my offer?" he asked in reply, frowning slightly and she was surprised to detect disappointment in his eyes, unfeigned and there for her to see.
"I did not say that," she whispered. "I am tempted but…I do not know what to make of you, Lindir."
She paused, for a moment, thinking. It was true she had little to do, and she chafed at the hours she was idle. If Melia had found something in this Valley to occupy her time, why not Elenor?
As for her susceptibility, maybe proximity and time would dispel it. She mentally nodded to herself, and adopted a gracious, grateful smile in Lindir's direction. "Very well, I accept. I will wait for you after breakfast," she promised, before bidding him goodnight and escaping his sensuous gaze before she lost her reason.
She did not hear his belated, thoughtful reply to own comments about not knowing what to make of him. "Nor I you, my lady," he whispered. "Nor I you."
To be continued...