Chapter 37 - The calm after the storm

Elanor flushed bright pink and smiled at the grass.

"Can you stand?" inquired the one sitting beside her upon the ground, climbing to his feet with all of the easy grace which characterised his race.

She glanced up at Glorfindel, who held out his hands to help her to her feet. Nodding, Elanor took them and allowed him to pull her upwards. Whether by accident or intention, he exerted enough force to propel her into his chest. He released her hands and hugged her fiercely for a moment, head lowered so his face was pressed against her hair.

Elanor laughed; his mix of gravity and childlike playfulness was quite bewitching.

When he released her—though not until he had planted a smiling kiss upon her hair—Elanor looked up at him once more.

"Do you feel well again, vána?"

"Much better," she admitted; her head no longer spun with dizziness and cold dread had been replaced with a fluttery feeling of delight in the pit of her stomach. Half an hour's sitting on the grass with her head on Glorfindel's shoulder had done wonders for her composure. "Shall we return to the others? We have been away some time, and I fear they will begin to grow suspicious if we linger too long."

Glorfindel grinned. "And if they do?"

"I shall mind very little," she returned laughingly.

"Good." He glanced back towards Elladan and Elrohir's tent a moment before his blue eyes returned to Elanor's face. His countenance grew serious. "I fear that this speech be ill-timed, nor are my words as fair as they ought to be. I pray I do not presume too much, for your history and your world is peculiar, Lady Ravenscroft. And yet I would speak nonetheless, knowing full well that your response may not be as I wish it to be; if you desire it, I would wed thee."

Elanor stared at him blankly for a moment.

Did he just ask…

Your first proposal; an Elf, in a forest in Middle-earth. That's pretty impressive.

Shut-up! He just asked me to marry him!

…it's not what I had dreamed of as a child… it was always Tim, it was always so perfectly planned and anticipated and it certainly wasn't storybook Glorfindel…

You're here. Come on, you've thrown your other life completely away! There's no time for humming and thumb-twiddling when a man who is in no way second to Tim—and whom you love!—asks you to be his wife.

But with Georgia here, can I really—

Just shut-up and say yes!

"Glorfindel—of course," she said, tugging her face into a smile. "Of course. Though—there are quite a few things that will need to be discussed. I mean—"

"Elanor," he interrupted, his tone quiet and yet full of unwavering affection. "If your sister's reappearance and a longing for home are causes for concern; that is, if you do not wish to remain in Middle-earth… I love you; that much I have declared openly. Yet I would not hold you here against your will. Your happiness is of utmost importance to me, vána."

And you were hesitating!

"No, no," she cried, pressing her face into his chest for a moment. "I did not mean to appear uncertain, not at all! I just—you are an Elf, Glorfindel, and I am mortal. Isn't that—won't that be… well, problematic?"

He appeared to soften a little in relief. "If I say it matters not to me, will you believe me?"

"I'll try," Elanor admitted, with a laugh. "Though I do not see how it couldn't matter; I'm going to die in another sixty to seventy years."

Glorfindel's eyes flickered away for a moment, and she decided not to press the issue.

"There'll be time to talk about everything else later, though," she smiled. "My answer is yes, however; I will marry you Glorfindel of Gondolin, if you will have me."

The Elf laughed. "Gladly."

Ten minutes later—during which time the pair had kissed several times and walked very slowly—Elanor and Glorfindel returned to their other companions. The Elf had elicited a promise from her that they should walk together beneath the stars that evening before consenting to escort her back to her sister and foster-brothers.

"Elanor!" exclaimed Georgia, as they re-entered the tent. "Are you all right? I was just about to come looking for you!" She hurried over to Elanor's side, genuine concern showing upon her countenance.

Still feeling flushed and exhilarated, Elanor forced her expression to appear more neutral.

"I feel a good deal better," she replied evenly, keeping her gaze on Georgia's face rather than allowing it to wander with Glorfindel's movements. She was not entirely successful, however; Georgia raised a knowing eyebrow, but had the good grace not to say anything, except:

"Well, you look a lot better…"

"I fear we have overlooked you, nethig," smiled Elladan, offering an arm to each of the Ravenscroft sisters and leading them towards the chairs placed about the tent. Several more had been acquired to accommodate the larger group; the Ranger had also departed.

"Things are ever full of bewilderment, even following triumph in war," Elanor replied, eyes twinkling. "I shall forgive you, Elladan, if you promise to find me nourishment; I cannot recall the last time I ate amongst such a merry gathering of friends!"

Her foster-brother seemed satisfied with the recovery of her spirits then, for after depositing her in a chair he darted away to call upon a servant.

It was an exceedingly cheerful party that sat around the cool tent for the hours following; Elladan and Elrohir cast aside all traces of their former grimness, for the Lord Aragorn's victory also signified great joy for Arwen. Despite the knowledge that it should mean their parting, the twins were happy for their sister. Legolas, implacably bright-eyed and cheery, laughed heartily as he conversed with Merry and Pippin. The latter had been located and persuaded to join the gathering whilst Elanor had been speaking to her beloved. Said Glorfindel was speaking to Georgia in his customarily playful manner, blue eyes twinkling as he teased her as a younger sister.

For a time, Elanor sat upon the blanket upon the grass—for, as Elrohir said, "Why should one ever turn down a picnic?"—and simply observed those around her. It was utter bliss to sit amongst them again, to know that the threat of doom was not breathing down her neck and that she would not have to lose these people she had come to love. She munched happily on the meal Elladan had requested, drinking in the sight of their faces and full of inexpressible bliss that they could remain there as long as it pleased them.

The lack of contradicting thoughts rushing round Elanor's brain was startling; she had become so accustomed to the caterwauling within her mind over the previous months. The silence was peculiar—and most welcome.

I'm getting married! her heart sang. Georgia's here, and the world is right, and I'm getting married!

She half-expected her resident cynic to respond, and was half-disappointed when she didn't.

We'll have to begin announcing things soon… goodness, I wonder what people wear to weddings in Middle-earth? Do brides wear white? Do Elvish brides wear white? Hang on, how do Elves even get married?

You can probably ask him tonight you know.

Thats true… we'll have to tell everyone else though! Announce it! Do we do engagement parties here?

Georgia can be my maid of honour! I'll have to tell her tonight!

After you speak with Glorfindel.

Yes, after that.

Smiling to herself, Elanor continued munching on the noon meal and surveyed the company with satisfaction. Even her generally-argumentative consciousness had abandoned it's civil war to rejoice at the triumph of good. And for the rest of that afternoon, the company laughed and were merry till the sun slipped beyond the trees and day turned to night.

Elanor settled back on the springy pallet with a relieved sigh. In the darkness she could hear Georgia shifting beside her. Her sister rolled so she was on her side, facing Elanor with what the latter sensed was a brightly expectant expression.

Elanor continued to gaze into the black ceiling above, her face warm and delighting in Georgia's tension. At length, her sister sighed in exasperation and sat up.

"Ellie, you went wandering with Glorfindel for three hours, and I've been sitting here in suspense the whole time. You can't just lie there now and not tell me what you talked of, and what happened? Have you kissed yet? Did you..?" She trailed off.

Elanor sat up abruptly. "Did we what?"

"Well, you know…" Georgia's form was growing more distinct as Elanor's eyes adjusted, and she saw her sister shrug in the gloom. "You were gone a long while, and it was dark…"

"Georgia! No, definitely not!" Elanor half-laughed, shoving her sister's shoulder. "I mean, we certainly kissed, but Glorfindel is even more traditional than I. We talked a great deal, and he explained some things, and… well, it was nice." She pulled her knees to her chest and smiled girlishly.

Georgia clapped her hands. "Oooh yay! What did you talk about?"

Elanor rolled her eyes, glad for the darkness to conceal the blush in her cheeks. "I'm not telling you everything…"

"But you've got to tell me something! I've been sitting here for hours!"

The elder of the two paused, her stomach full of exuberant butterflies. She bit her lip for a moment, eyes alight even in the dusk.

"He asked me to marry him, G."

Georgia squealed loud enough to wake half the camp. Elanor promptly threw herself at her, smothering her with a pillow until the pair of them were giggling helplessly. Five minutes later, both panting, the sisters lay side-by-side upon the pallet.

"You're engaged, El!" hissed Georgia, pulling her legs up to her stomach in glee. "That's so exciting! You're going to get married!"

"Shut-up, idiot, or I'll sit on you again," Elanor replied, though she grinned broadly and her voice belied the threat. "Well it's different to home, you know. Now that the war's over—if we'd wanted to get married during whole battle thing, we would simply have performed the rites and… well… slept together."

"That's how the Elves get married?" Georgia cried.

"That's the official part—'bodily union'," admitted the other. "But because we're not in war, it's considered rude and ungracious to the families involved if we don't do it properly."

"So how do you do the whole thing properly?"

"We have an engagement party; a ceremony," Elanor said, slowly, thinking back to Glorfindel's speech. Most of the information had been put aside as she'd lost herself in the sweetness of his embrace. "We exchange silver rings at a feast where both our families attend, and set a date for the wedding; but the wedding has to be at least a year from then. Then we all meet again on the fore-ordained date, have another feast, and exchange gold rings. There's also a gift-giving from the parents of the bride and groom—not that we'll be able to do that—and after that night, we are considered married."

"That sounds far too complicated to contemplate tonight," yawned Georgia. "I can't believe you're getting married to an Elf though!"

"Yeah…"

Her sister seemed to gain a new lease on life despite the late hour and sat up again. "El, you know that Elves and Humans only get married—"

"Very rarely, yes, I know," sighed Elanor. She closed her eyes for a moment. That part of their conversation had been less pleasant than other aspects.

"What's going to happen when you die and he continues living forever?"

Doesn't beat around the bush, does she…?

"I—I don't know, honestly. I'm not half-Elven, so I can't choose my fate and go to Valinor with him, and he can't choose to die because he's full-Elven. I can't follow Tuor's footsteps, because I'm not an important person; and based on the Valar's reaction to the Noldor… well, I doubt they're going to be likely to give Glorfindel more leniency, even after he's helped achieve victory over Sauron."

Georgia was silent for a moment. "I sometimes forget how much you know now, El," she said quietly. She turned to look down at her sister. "You're different. You've grown. I dunno how exactly to put it, but you're not the Ellie that I knew—well, even four weeks ago. While you've been here… so much has happened. And it's not just that you know about Middle-earth now."

"Changed?" Elanor inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I—its hard to describe," the younger stammered. "It's good, though. You're—bigger. Not size-wise," she added quickly, when her sister sat up abruptly to protest. "No, not at all; in fact, you've gotten leaner and more toned. It's more about your… carriage, your presence. You walk taller, and you command respect here, I guess. You did at home too, but you seem to have a much wider circle and a whole lot of people who absolutely worship the ground you walk on. Glorfindel does, obviously, but Legolas greeted you like you were his sister! And Elladan and Elrohir evidently consider you family. The El I knew would've stuck safely to what she knew, remained in Rivendell as a scholar and remained politely aloof from people. It's like you've gotten—more open. You're close to all of these people, and they love you."

Elanor sat in contemplation for a time, allowing Georgia's words to wash over her.

My carriage?

Well, it's rather true… the Elanor who left those campgrounds was staid and boring, didn't like the unfamiliar, and couldn't comprehend how Georgia managed to charm the entire camp and socialise broadly. You have changed… would you ever have contemplated a journey to all corners of Middle-earth when you were living in Brisbane?

Well… no. Never.

See? You've fallen in love with Glorfindel quickly and spontaneously; it's not the steady relationship you had with Tim. You guys were friends for years. This is like… the storybook romance.

I'm not totally different though… right? I haven't lost myself in this trek have I?

Do you think so?

I mean, not really. Probably not. I'm still Elanor. I still hate the idea of not bathing, I've just managed to get over it if I can't do anything about it. I still want the familiar, the comfortable; why else would I wander across Arda?

"Well, thanks G," she said eventually. "That's very kind of you. I guess I am different; I've learned quite a lot here, about myself and about dealing with things I never thought I could manage."

"And you've grown more patient," Georgia put in, with a laugh. "Goodness, you were always treating me like an unruly puppy more than a sister, scolding and telling me off. I was so surprised when I spoke to you in those first days, and you just… swallowed any of your reproofs, even though I could see in your eyes just how much you wanted to say them. Oh," she grinned, as Elanor's mouth fell open, "I knew fully that you wanted to tell me off properly. But you didn't, and while I probably still deserved it… it was nice, El."

"I'm sorry that I was always so strict, and always chiding and correcting," Elanor said softly. "I truly am. I was always the 'good' child in our family, Mum and Dad's pet. But once I was having a childish tantrum here, and was absolutely awful to poor Bilbo, and Elrond gave me a thorough setting-down. He was loving through the disciplining, but I was so utterly humiliated. I think that made me realise how unpleasant it is to be told off, and made to feel like a child when I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman. I am sorry for being so stiff and prudish and boring in the past, G. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course!" Georgia cried, for though she might be hot-tempered she certainly could not be called bitter or resentful. "I truly deserved it, most of the time. Sometimes I didn't get why you were so strict and keen to stick by the rules exactly, but I get it better now. And I have so much respect for how you've handled things so far."

Elanor chuckled. "Well I'm glad to have loosened up a little, then."

"You've gone back to talking normally again too," her sister remarked.

"Yeah. I don't know how it happens; I am usually so good at keeping it up, but I think when I'm with Glorfindel it kind of melts away, and with you too. He knows exactly where I've come from, and it seems odd to keep up the peculiar formality when it's just the two of us. And," Elanor grinned cheekily, "how is one supposed to have a giggly, girlish, sisterly conversation like this in the dead of night when one is using 'thee', 'thou' and 'thy'?"

Georgia laughed heartily then, and Elanor tossed another pillow over to silence her loud mirth. When she eventually stopped, and the two were lying side-by-side once more staring at the ceiling, she spoke:

"Hang on, before—did you say you were mean to Bilbo Baggins?"

"Yes," sighed Elanor, ruefully. "Possibly the most awful thing I've ever done."

"Is he as sweet and flustered and Martin Freeman-ish as in the movies?"

"Definitely. But Glóin and Gimli are true to the books; nothing like the 'hot' dwarves in The Hobbit movies."

"Phew," her sister laughed. "I was starting to get anxious about that. There is still so much I want to know, Ellie! I want to go to Erebor, and Lothlórien, and Rivendell, and the Shire, and the Grey Havens… I want to go everywhere!"

"Me too," Elanor admitted. "But, G—I've decided to stay. I've got to; I love Glorfindel. Going back to Tim and everyone—if I got the chance, that is—would be far too painful. I couldn't go back on it right now. But if you want to go home… if say, Galadriel or Gandalf could figure out how to get you back… you can go, you know."

Georgia exhaled heavily. "Yeah, I haven't got a clue what I'm supposed to do, El. I mean, it's a bit of a nasty alternative; either I go back and lose you forever, or I stay here and lose Mum and Dad and my whole life forever, but I get to keep you and Middle-earth… it's a hard decision. The last few days, I've gotten a better idea of what you went through. And I honestly couldn't decide. I'd love to stay here for a while, and be—like a tourist." She paused and laughed. "But I guess if I do that, I'll get super attached and find it hard to go home…"

"It's both the best and worst things," Elanor proffered.

"Yeah."

"But," her elder sister supplied, with a hint of optimism. "We don't know whether it's even possible; it's sad knowing you won't be going back, but if there isn't anything you can do about it, it becomes easier to accept."

"That's true." Georgia rolled onto her side and looked at Elanor. "You've gotten super wise, big sister."

"Hardly," laughed Elanor, rolling over so they looked into one another's faces. "But thanks, G. Anyway, we should sleep; it's must be after midnight at least."

"Probably—but you're getting married!"

"Hush! Now, pass me back my pillows—I've thrown them all onto your side of the bed to keep you from shouting about my engagement to the entire encampment!"

The following morning, Elanor woke late. The sun had already made her appearance, gliding forth like a woman bedecked in golden jewellery. The other side of the bed was empty and cold, and many people were talking about the campgrounds. The air was surprisingly stuffy within the tent, evidence of the early onset of summer.

It's been so long since it's been warm, she mused sleepily, blinking at the ceiling of the tent. And it'll still probably be way, way colder than it is in Australia… I wish it was properly warm here…

After a few minutes she sat up, feeling pleasantly warm both from the temperature and the cosy memories of the previous day.

I'm engaged…

It was as if a hot spring had formed in the core of her being, filling her with an inescapable toastiness which made her want to skip about like an eleven-year-old girl.

Pushing aside the bedding, Elanor rolled forward to her knees and stood up. She wore one of the long silken nightgowns which she had acquired in Gondor. A gust of sweet air blew through the tent door, tousling her waist-length hair. The curls hung loose; Glorfindel had requested to see it unbound, and she had not re-braided it before drifting asleep.

The small tent she and Georgia had been allocated was situated several spots away from Elladan and Elrohir's pavilion. Like in the Rohirric camp at Dunharrow, the floor was strewn with carpets and there was a washstand in one corner. Rather than a narrow camp-bed, the sisters had been given a larger pallet stuffed with some kind of fresh grass or heather. The linen was soft and comfortable, and the whole tent was infused with the fragrances of spring.

Elanor turned to the twin chests which sat upon the ground. They contained the clothes she and Georgia had begun to accumulate thanks to Boromir's generosity.

It seems like all I've done is steal clothes from the moment I've been here! I'll have to thank him, or get Glorfindel to repay him somehow… these dresses must have cost a fortune…

She had ordered Brúnel to pack both of them an appropriate selection of gowns, owing to Georgia's reminder that Aragorn did not arrive back in Minas Tirith until the 1st of May. It was presently the 4th of April, and a month's worth of clothing for two "southern noblewomen" amounted to no small pile of goods. Added to this was a delightful discovery Elanor had made; when a contingent had arrived from Edoras bearing goods for Éowyn, they had somehow managed to sweep several Elvish tunics into the mix. Éowyn had happily presented them to her friend, and Elanor was profoundly glad to receive them. The Gondorian gowns were stiffer than her Elvish ones in Rivendell—albeit less cumbersome about the sleeves—and whilst she preferred the former, the tunics were unmatched. She was unsure how they might be received amongst the more traditional in Minas Tirith, but decided that she could not pass up the opportunity to be comfortable and unencumbered.

Lacing the tent flap closed, Elanor removed her nightgown and folded it neatly. Sighing, she reached for Georgia's matching garment as well—it had been hastily discarded upon her departure. When this was done, she wrapped her chest in soft linen and donned her Elvish garments. Brúnel had washed them thoroughly, and despite heavy wear they were almost as good as new. She chose a pair of tan leggings and a soft green tunic, which fitted her trim form snugly and fastened about her waist with a supple leather belt. The tunic fell to just above her knees with impossibly fine embroidery tracing the mandarin collar and down her arms and bodice.

Hopefully people won't freak out about it, and think I'm a whore or something…

By her old-world standards, it was a modest outfit, especially when coupled with supple leather boots which reached halfway up her calves. Judging by Boromir's reaction to Elanor's riding astride back in Rivendell, the likelihood of the Gondorians accepting the utilitarian attire was slim. Still, she would primarily be in the company of Elves, and knew very well that the tunic accentuated both her slender form and the sea-green colour of her eyes.

Glorfindel will like it, at least!

She smiled to herself.

It felt rather as if she were missing something; the Gondorian gowns were proud and regal, and without a heavy cloak about her shoulders it was like she lacked an arm. Searching the tent with her eyes, her gaze finally fell upon her sheathed sword. It rested against the clothes chest, the slender blade covered in it's elegant leather-and-silver sheath.

Her stomach clenched. The last time she had worn that weapon on her hip, she had been riding into battle with Éowyn and Merry. One of Minas Tirith's weapon-masters had seen it cleaned, honed and returned to her, but she had refrained from wearing it. Brúnel had slipped it into her trunk.

That sword had dealt death. It had pierced flesh and bone and dealt mortal wounds to faceless Southlings. The pride she had once taken it was now tainted with crimson.

…perhaps Legolas will agree to spar with me. That's not violent or dangerous or… murderous, she thought, slowly. Shrugging, she tied the sheath to her belt. At least it would render her battle-ready tunic less out-of-place. The sword may have shrieked ruin and disaster, but it was a gift from her foster-father. She would never again ride into battle, nor kill—that much she'd decided the day Glorfindel had reprimanded her. But there was no harm in honing her abilities in peacetime, was there?

Of course not!

With that in mind, a braid seemed the most logical for the day, so Elanor grasped the lengthening mass of curls behind the nape of her neck and plaited it deftly.

What now?

Now? smiled Elanor, shifting the sword uneasily on her hip. Now, I go and find my fiancée Glorfindel, and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day.

TRANSLATIONS

vána - beautiful one

Guess who's back! haha

So I said I was going on hiatus, but I honestly couldn't stay away any longer... I managed to get my head screwed back on, and then decided that I wanted to toss out the next few scenes.

This one is a little segmented:

1. Glorfy-Elanor: I know I ought to have put the proposal at the end of the chapter, but I honestly couldn't. Glorfindel absolutely refused to be put off until the end of this chapter. I apologise, but I'm not really sorry.

2. Blissful reuniting with the others: there weren't precise words to describe the first time the whole group sits down and eats together. I couldn't go into detail, it just felt too emotional, almost like I was intruding on Elanor and her gathering!

3. Elanor and Georgia's midnight girly discussion: just the token conversation where the two of them chat about boys (*teehee*), and about Elanor's sudden engagement with Glorfindel, yah yah. I wanted the two of them to get to a greater level of camaraderie, understanding one another and being less at odds. Prudish Ellie has gotten way more chilled out and is now less worried about scolding Georgia, and can embrace the sisterly understanding thing. Yay :D

4. Just Elanor getting ready. I have nothing else to say.

The chapter really isn't saying anything important, it's not furthering the plot, I just wanted to have a few fluffy chapters where there isn't angst, there isn't sudden discoveries, and there's just a whole lot of Glorfanor shipping. ^_^ So I hope I've satisfied you in that regard. I promise that the next chapter will skip through things a little more quickly. There will be announcements, pleasant discoveries, and the return to Minas Tirith!

Have a great night guys; I'll be back writing again in the next day or two.

Best, Finwe.