As Elrond so graciously requested, I changed into a dress and regretfully left my swords behind. Longbows it would be, today at least. When I finally reached the training arena, Elladan was already practicing. He turned to acknowledge me as I walked in.
"Sorry for being late," I said. "Your daddy wanted to talk to me."
Elladan frowned and lowered his bow. "About what, pray tell?"
I bent my fingers into quotations. "'Propriety'."
"Oh." He winced. "I've gotten that one a couple of times."
"He showed me the chair."
Elladan's eyes widened. "And you're still here?"
I lowered my eyelashes a millimeter. "What makes you think you're the one he was lecturing me about?"
Elladan smirked. "You are brave, I'll grant you that."
I glowered at the ellon. "He said I could come, as long as I wore a dress."
He barked a laugh. "I told you trousers are inappropriate."
"You've told me a number of things," I replied, moving closer, "but only a few of them were verbal." I laid my hand over his, holding the bow. "Believe me, Elrondion, I can be far more than inappropriate."
His dark eyes seemed to darken even more at our sudden proximity, and he released the bow into my grip. Reaching behind him, he took an arrow from his quiver and handed it to me. "See if you cannot hit the target."
I set the arrow to the string, as he'd shown me in the past. Then, flexing my muscles, I labored to pull it back. Miraculously, I was able to. I pointed the arrow at the target, but my arms were shaking too much to really take aim. So I simply released the string.
The arrow missed the target by yards, then smashed into the wall behind and shattered.
Elladan chuckled. "At least it went the right way this time." His expression was pleased, though.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and we both laughed.
He took his bow back and hung it over his shoulder, then he moved in front of me and knelt down, bringing him to my height. He placed his hands on either side of my face, and looked into my eyes. My heartbeat stuttered. What was he doing?
"Your eyes are bloodshot," he murmured, standing once more. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Umm." I blushed furiously, trying to get my heart started again. Blushing is easy to do, but extremely difficult to prevent. Why?! "I, uh, no. I was reading."
Elladan's eyes lit up. "That's happened to me many times. I'll give you some advice. Never start a good book late in the day."
I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "How do you know it's good without starting it?"
Elladan scowled. "You know what I mean." A pause, then, "What book was it?"
"I think the title was There and Back Again. It's Bilbo's record of going with the Dwarves to reclaim Erebor."
Elladan scowled. "That hardly sounds interesting."
I shrugged.
"Well." Elladan met my gaze and smirked. "I think you should take the rest of today off. Get some sleep."
I looked up at him through my eyelashes. "And why does my sleeping schedule concern you, Elladan?"
His grin deepened. "My brother's fiancée is having a birthday party tomorrow evening. And our parties tend to run rather late."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't go to parties."
Elladan casually brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face, his touch sending chills down my spine. "And what if I asked you to go with me?"
Looking away to hide that I was fighting a blush, I countered, "What if I said no?"
Elladan placed a long finger under my chin and tiled my head back so that I would look at him. "The seamstress would be very upset," he murmured. "She would say, 'Elladan, why would you have me make the most beautiful dress in Rivendell, if nobody was even going to wear it?'" His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I would have to take her as atonement."
My heart was thundering so loudly, I thought he would hear it. "That would be awful," I replied absentmindedly, staring up into his rich, deep brown eyes.
"It would indeed. So. Will you go with me?" he prodded, a slight grin lifting his lips.
The word 'yes' almost slipped out, but I managed to stop it. Instead, I said, "You'd owe me. Big time."
"Would I?" Elladan leaned down and skimmed his nose over my forehead, inhaling. Then he moved to sniff at my hair. "What would I owe you?"
"I dunno," I said breathlessly.
"Hmm." Elladan took a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled. His warm breath traveled over my head, and I shivered. "Go get some sleep, princess. I told the seamstress to deliver your dress to you as soon as it's finished."
"O-ok-kay," I stuttered.
Elladan withdrew, smirking, and strode out of the training arena, leaving me speechless.
Here we go.
It wasn't often that I felt beautiful, but if looks could kill, I wouldn't need my swords at all tonight.
The dress was blood-red, with a high collar that made me look taller than I actually was. Delicate black buttons ran from my waist up to just beneath my chin, and a dark gold lace trimmed the edges. I'd ignored the little red shoes that had come with the dress and opted for my black boots, where I stowed my knife, since the sleeves were too tight. My hair, I took out of its usual braid and let it flow down around my shoulders.
I looked amazing.
I still felt a little nervous as I headed for the large gathering hall, where the party was to be held. I couldn't wish away the pit forming in my stomach as I heard music drifting out into the evening air. But my doubts flew away when a tall, dark-haired ellon came outside. His deep eyes found me, and he stopped in his tracks.
I ran to meet him, and Elladan knelt to receive me into a hug. I threw my arms around his shoulders, and he returned my embrace. "Eda, you look lovely tonight," he whispered into my ear.
"Thank you, Elladan," I replied, nuzzling his jaw.
He straightened and extended his arm for me to hold. Smiling, I accepted his offer, and together, we entered the hall.
To one side, Elrohir and Rusceth were chatting with guests, while across the room, musicians were playing a complex melody with multiple harmonies intertwined, occasionally ringing out with chilling dissonance.
"Dance with me?" Elladan murmured.
In response, I put my hand in his, and he placed a hand at my waist. And we stepped off in sync with the music.
Hours passed in a blur of dancing and drinking. Well, Elladan drank. I knew better than to consume Elven wine without a very good reason, and a private room far away to sleep off my crazy.
As the time flew by, Elladan began to lose his cool self-containment, and while we danced, his hand crept farther and farther down my waist. A naughty thought popped into my head, and I tried to push it out, but the harder I tried, the stronger it took hold in my mind. I glanced over my shoulder at the crowd. Elrond was nowhere to be seen—I hadn't seen him once all night.
You shouldn't, my conscience whispered.
But if I do...I swallowed. The implications would be major, possibly far-reaching. But, if I succeeded, I would safely remove myself from the danger of receiving my wretched inheritance.
My gaze traveled over to Elrohir. I'd had the same opportunity with him. A very similar situation. But I'd cowed at the last minute, and fled. But that was a long time ago.
It was time to lose my virginity.
I urged Elladan to follow my lead in our waltz, out the doors and into the shadow the massive building cast.
"Why have you brought us here, beautiful?" Elladan asked, his dark eyes sparkling.
I blushed, on purpose for once. Elladan's sharp Elven eyes would not miss that, even if he was a little drunk. "I have a secret to tell you," I murmured, looking up at him shyly. "Can I trust you?"
"Of course, my love," he replied gently.
"Let me whisper it into your ear?" I asked.
He leaned down. But instead of placing my mouth beside his ear, I placed it on his lips. Softly kissed him.
Elladan froze beneath my touch, but didn't pull away. After a long moment, I pulled back so that we were face to face. His eyes were wide with shock. But it didn't last long. His mouth crashed back into mine, his arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders. His hard lips peppered mine with hot kisses, and his fingers wound into my hair.
"Eda," he gasped between kisses.
My stomach tightened nervously, but I wouldn't stop now. I couldn't stop now. I'd been taken captive by this rogue love, this runaway romance.
Elladan's fingers clutched at the bodice of my dress, and I felt the fabric straining. "Elladan," I warned, pulling back and taking his hands in mine. "Come with me."
I led him away from the gathering hall, and to my room. My stomach was writhing, and my heart pounding. Eru, maybe I should've had some wine after all. Of course, in the state I was in, I'd probably end up barfing it all up anyway. And I had a feeling Elladan would find that less than attractive. So I led him to my room, hoping I wasn't making a huge mistake.
With shaking hands, I fumbled with the doorknob until the door opened. Then I went in. Elladan stood in the doorway, as though unsure if he should enter or not. Taking a deep, calming breath, I walked over to the bed and sat down, shyly meeting Elladan's piercing gaze.
"Aren't you going to join me?" I squeaked.
He strode into the room, shutting the door behind him. His eyes reflected the low light like a predator's, glinting hungrily.
Eru. What had I done?
My mind flitted through the dozens of useless metaphors people used to try and explain what ensued behind closed doors. As seasoned as I considered myself in flirting, my experience here was sorely lacking. Nonexistent, in fact.
Elladan crossed the space between us in two long steps, his strong arms wrapping around my shoulders and his chest pushing me down to the bed. His lips brushed my jaw, then collided with mine once more. His hands roamed over my ribcage, then came up to the row of buttons, starting at my throat. I shivered as he slipped the first button from its loop.
"Cold?" he asked, his eyes glinting. His body rested atop mine, his heat suffocating me. Still, I couldn't stop trembling.
He released another button, and kissed my chin as he continued. His lips traveled down my throat...farther...and farther...
Pain flared over my shoulder and chest, and I flinched. Elladan tensed, and pushed himself off me. "What?" he demanded. "Are you hurt?"
I shook my head, rubbing the throbbing area connecting my neck to my shoulder. "I'm fine."
Elladan snatched my hand away from the sore area and pulled the loosened collar away from my throat. A growl rose in his throat. "Is that a love bite?"
"What?" I squeaked. "No!" I looked down at the purple bruise on my neck. That was where the ugly naked thing had bitten me. Truth be told, I'd forgotten all about that little incident.
An open-handed slap knocked my head to the side. My cheek stung immediately, and tears sprung to my eyes. "What was that for?" I cried.
"For lying." Elladan's tone was dark, cruel. "I know what happened between you and Elrohir. But I never thought you a whore."
I flinched. "Elladan—"
He thrust himself away from me and strode out of my room, leaving the door open.
"Elladan," I called, sitting up and floundering off the bed. I ran out the door, toward his quickly-retreating form. "Elladan!" I cried. As I moved to run after him, a hand reached from the shadows and snagged my arm. I stumbled to a halt, coming around to face Lord Elrond. Then I flinched, expecting him to hit me, too.
The strike never came. I looked up at Lord Elrond, and his expression held pity, and disappointment, but no anger.
He had expected this.
I collapsed at Elrond's feet and wept. Self-disgust and Elladan's words echoing in my head mingled, coming out in great heart-wrenching sobs that echoed down the corridors. Elrond said nothing to soothe my wounded pride, but knelt down beside me and stroked my hair.
It may've been minutes, hours, days, or years. I couldn't tell. But when my tears finally subsided and I sat up on the hard ground, I felt a hundred years older. Elrond still remained silent, gently brushing my tears away. Then he grasped my arms and pulled me to my feet. He stood as well, then he turned me back toward my room. As I retreated to the four walls I was cursed to inhabit, Lord Elrond's footsteps echoed down the corridor.
I allowed myself the childish satisfaction of slamming my door as hard as I could. Then I threw myself onto the bed, buried my face into a pillow, and screamed.
It wasn't that he refused to be intimate with me. The logical side of my brain was relieved. Grateful, even.
It was his words. Haunting phrases that bounced around in my head, numbing me to all pain except what they inflicted. And inflict they did. Until I could barely breathe.
Time passed, and at some point, my cries faded. Soundless tears leaked from my eyes, soaking into the pillow. At least, with Elrohir, I had been the one to run. I had been the one sensible enough to leave. I had controlled our relationship, our pace, our level of immaturity...
Numb with agony, I slipped off into the realm of chaos created by my own imagination.
When I awoke the next morning, I blinked against the gritty residue built up in my tear ducts. Rubbing my eyes, I pushed myself up. Why was I wearing a dress?
Oh. Oh.
I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. Then I removed myself from the horrid garment as quickly as I could. A button ripped off, and I smiled. A piece of me had broken last night—but another had fallen into place.
Shadow was the only companion I trusted now.
I dressed in my black garments, except for my mask, which went in my pocket. Then I armed myself. The feel of my razor-sharp blades at the ready comforted me, put a sort of desperate courage in my heart. And, ready to attack the day, I turned and faced the mirror.
The black-clad creature staring back at me was a monster. Her hair was a frazzled mess that refused to be confined by the hood, her lips were swollen and cracked, and a bruise extended across her left cheek.
I touched the mirror where her skin was discolored. "We make quite a pair, don't we?" I mumbled. Snagging my brush, I quickly worked through the worst of the knots in my hair, then braided it. I tied the braid off with a thin cord, then pulled my hood up. Much better.
I walked out the door, then startled. Standing outside my room, looking over Rivendell's waterfalls, was a Hobbit. And not Bilbo.
He glanced over his shoulder, and jumped backward. Luckily, the railings were tall enough—and Hobbits short enough—that there was no chance of him falling.
"Oh," he said, blushing a deep red, "I didn't see you there."
"It's okay," I replied, closing my door behind me. "I just came out."
I joined the Hobbit in gazing over Rivendell, resting my elbows on the guardrail beside him. "When did you get here?" I asked.
"'Bout an hour ago, I reckon," he said, not meeting my gaze.
His response left little invitation for me to press the subject. Frowning, I glanced over his state. His unruly blond hair was badly disheveled and tangled with twigs and leaves. As he stared out at the city, his thick fingers drummed the guardrail nervously.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Big blue Hobbit eyes turned to meet my gaze, swimming with a multitude of unshed emotions. He didn't answer immediately, but finally, he answered in a squeaky voice, "It's Mr. Frodo. He got 'urt real bad on the way 'ere. 'E might not make it." The Hobbit bit his lip and looked away, failing to hide the tears pooling in his eyes.
Frodo was here? Injured? Dying?
"Where is he now?" I demanded.
The Hobbit sniffed. "With Lord Elrond, I'd imagine."
Elrond's personal healing room. I nodded my thanks and trotted down the corridor.
"'E won't let you see 'im," the Hobbit shouted after me. "I've already tried."
"Thank you," I called over my shoulder. And I kept going.
