Twelve Songs In Rivendel.
An Elrond Romance
by The Fox.
Chapter Two
From Moria
Tell Me Why.
Summer
Elrohir was mildly enraged at his harsh twin, whom had inconsiderately galloped down the Valley into home, leaving
him behind with the entire luggage they carried back from their Dunedain trip. Including some horrible souvenirs Elladan
insisted to spend his money on, including such a revealing hobbit female corset he was certain his father would strangle them
with it before to agree to see Arwen put on. And surely her sister, always up to anything to get their father fire up, would
wear it everyday.
Elrohir could have speed his horse too, but why arrive early to your funeral? Elrond still must be reeling from the rider-with-
breasts joke, only schemed by Elladan and Glorfindel, but one he would pay anyway for, too. He wasn't usually up to that
those of jokes: shy and calm, Elrohir was the one to discover the unconscious rider had some… ah… interesting features. He
still blushed, wondering if father did. Of course of not. He was the wisest elf in the Mid Earth, so it wasn't any chance of it.
But he, his son, blushed everyday, something that was the bane of his existence, usually giving away Elladan and Glorfindel's
jokes and making him pay for his mischievous sibling and teacher.
Hmph.
Sometimes he hated life.
The summer afternoon was hot and sunny, the sky blue as his mother's eyes as the radiance shone in the many waterfalls
crowning the Valley. At sight of one, Elrohir speed up, suddenly wanting nothing else like he wanted to bath his face in cold
water and felt the icy dew of Misty mountains soothe is fevered forehead. But as he drove into the side of the road where the
water plashing can be heard, he heard a voice too singing, and saw an enormous black. The horse was drinking from the tiny
pool as his rider splashed like a boy his face with both hands under the water's white veil.
The hair, reddish gold, in his bent back , like a wild mass, told him away.
Told her away.
Elrohir wandered what to do. Glorfindel never spoke of this way to meet a lady.
- Oh, good afternoon, Milord!- she smiled, face and hair drenched.- Hot day, isn't it?-
- Yes, it is.- Elrohir smiled back, comforted by her simple demeanor.
- The water is deliciously fresh.- she pulled her hair back and gestured him to the tiny waterfall.- Please, I'm done already.-
- Thank you.- for his surprise, Elrohir recognized her accent in elven language, almost flawless fluent sindarin. The accent was
clearly from Gondor, but too had traces from the North. Elrohir could distinct it clearly, even if Elladan used t o say it was the
silliest of the most silliest skills.
- Are you coming to Rivendel, my Lady?- he asked, his hands being washed of dirt by the flowing water. The sun shone
brilliantly in the pool, turning the falling drops into a rain of snowflakes.
- Yes, I am, my lord. I have a letter for the Lord Elrond.- she said, jumping into her saddle with the practice of a not only
trained but expert rider. Elrohir, half-surprised and quite at loss with her, blinked.
- Could you wait for me? I am going home too. I am Elrohir, oldest son of Lord Elrond. And I'll escort you into Imladris, if you
agree.-
- I'm deeply grateful, my lord Elrohir.- her easy, quick smile made her strange blue eyes shine.- Last time I arrived your
marvelous house I was unconscious, so I'm afraid I don't know the quicker way to get into the Valley. Or let's say the safest,
since the quicker one is to jump already.-
Elrohir sputtered, and then laughed. – I'm afraid that, as quick and spectacular your arriving would be, you'll be beyond even
my father's healing powers.-
- And my letters would get dirty, and that's the most important part.- she was laughing good-naturedly as Elrohir saddled too
into his weary horse and leaded her into the descending folds of woods under the road.
- Where are you coming from, my Lady?-
- Moria.-
- Really?- Elrohir's curiosity peaked.- How? And how is it?-
- By horse. And is beautiful beyond description.-
- Are you kidding me?-
- It's good to see you again, alive and well, my Lady Arien.- Elrond was enjoying the fresh a bower delicately made of silver
carvings and deep green vines of violet foam-like flowers hanging from and giving the fresh smell of lime provided, confortably
seated in the brilliantly colored garden, the summer covering Rivendel with a carpet of brand colored flowers, escalating the
roofs, bathing the hills around the Valley.
- I am honored to have the blessing to come here for a second time, my lord.- she said, bowing with a hand over her heart,
Gondor-like style. Elrond smiled, pleased for hearing her perfect noble speech again.- And I thank you again for the help
bestowed over me last time, in my name and my mission.-
- It was a pleasure.- Elrond looked at her hand over her chest, the curve of her hand suggesting a curve hidden by the dark,
hard-cut black summer Gondor garb, and suddenly choked.
- Oh, a pleasure, indeed.- Glorfindel chorused, wicked amusement in his merry eyes.
I'll choke you with that stupid braid of yours, lieutenant.
- I'll hope you'll be staying long, my Lady?- Elladan said with his best innocent smile, even if the Rivendel resident Elves knew
better. It wasn't she wasn't nice enough, but the chance to wind up the stern lord of Imladris was too good to let it pass. The
more days with her there, the merrier.
- I'm afraid I'm on duty. I have a letter from the Lord from Isengard, Lord Elladan.- she said gently, taking a roll of parchment
protected in white leather from her waist. It was sealed with a symbol that made Elrond's eyes narrow in interest: the white
hand. Softly, she kneeled and offered him the roll. Elrond took it, a bit bewildered.
- I thought you said to be a messenger of Gondor, my lady, not from Saruman the White.-
- I am such a wanderer I usually deliver letters for the whole West, my Lord. And Lord Denethor himself recommended my
services to the White Istari of Isengard.-
Elrond would have asked more, but his questions were stopped when Arwen swiftly entered the bower, smiling and happy, her
long green summer dress floating in the wind. She embraced her brothers, and smiled to her father and Glorfindel, to then turn
to the messenger lady with a warm welcome.
- Arien! I'm so happy you had lived up your promise! I was wondering when the wind would take you here again. Have you
time to spend with us?-
- Only a few days. My duties call me, and my lords wait for my letters anxiously.- she said, a quick glance that surprised
Elrond.
Did she know what the White Magician asked of him…?
Elrond, with a nod, took the parchment to his study, leaving the lady with his daughter and sons, in the bower.
Under the bright sun of summer, he suddenly felt a chill.
- You really are worthy of the name of the second Luthien, my lady.-
Arwen stopped dancing, where the summer wind had accompanied her into sunset. Arian was there, leaning in a terrace,
comfortably refreshed, and wearing a silk white tunic over green pants that ended a bit short of her ankles, showing her bare
feet. The Undomiel smiled, and Arien's breath caught: the lady of Rivendel was too much, star of sunset there, the red
summer sun turning her into a statue of honey. And Arwen smiled back, because Arien was the sunset itself, golden hair
redder by the dying sunlight, as she leaned in the wooden rail, her face calm into her contemplation.
- Thanks, lady Arien. But you have the beauty of sun itself.-
If Arien blushed, it was hard to say at that light: but she smiled like receiving a nice and not necessarily true compliment. She
leaned into the rail, her hair almost brushing the bushes of roses lining the terrace, and said with a secretive voice:
- How quick is your father to make his mind about things? I stayed too long in Moria. And I have still to develop Lorien and
King Thranduil's letters.-
- I suppose he will take his time.- she smiled.- Depending the seriousness of the situation.-
- Well, tell me, how long he takes to decide what robe to wear each day?-
- Ages. Longer than me.- Arwen laughed, seeing how the messenger Lady buried her head in her arms with a mouthed damn.
– It is very urgent?-
- Quite so.- Arien looked up, seeing the first stars grace the summer night sky.
- Do you get me a new song, Lady Arien?-
- Of course, my lady Arwen. If something I have always the time to collect, is songs from everyway I go.- she smiled.- But I
would like to ask one of you: I've only heard fragments of the ballad of Beren and Luthien through the years, but I've never
hear it complete in an Elven voice. Would you…?-
- I can ask my Finvanna to sing it. He…-
- I would prefer to hear it in the Tinuviel's own voice, if possible.- Arien said promptly, a gleam on her eyes.
- But Luthien…- Arwen blushed, and then looked back to her shyly.- I'm not worthy of that compliment, my Lady Arien.
Luthien was the mother of Dior Eluchil, who was the father of my grandmother Elwing TheWhite. But I can't be but a pale
reflection of her legendary shine.- slowly, Arwen smiled, her manner growing somber. Where childish joy had shone, now it
was a deeper, serious beauty.- I am just the Sunset Star, not the Noon one she was…-
- Please?-
Arwen surrounded the balcony, her hair moving behind her like a living night curtain, till the stone steps that lead into the ample
terrace. Maple trees around still conserved the reddish hue in his leaves, against the sky now of deep darkening blue. And
Arian's soft, childish plea made the smile came back into her impossible beautiful features, again soft and changing as the sky.
- Only if you call me Arwen, my lady.-
- But I am Arian, so.-
- So.-
- Deal.-
- What?-
- So Luthien chose a mortal life, and her sons have the chance to choose?- Arien was still deeply interested, and the two
young ladies walked, arm in arm to the Main Hall, where the places had been put for them, side by side, Arien just front of
Elladan as Elrohir and Arwen flanked Elrond at the head of the table. – But why? How can any Elf to forsake eternal twilight
for the cruel gift given to the Men?-
Arwen stared at Arien, as they sat.
- Maybe love is greater than the promise of eternal life, Arien.- she said, wise eyes in Arien, who shrugged, taking her seat
after her.
- That, my wise lady, is the one reason I can think of worthy enough.-
- Indeed it is.- Elrohir won a brilliant smile from his sister at that.
- I saw your stallion in the ---, my Lady Arien. He is quite a magnificent animal. A Rohan one, is it?- Elladan interrupted,
already picking some bread under the severe eyes of Arwen, because the Lord of the house hasn't came yet.
- Yes, he is. His name is Elfaroth.- Arien smiled, discussion forgotten.- You're an expert, I see, my Lord Elladan. He took me
as fast as I need. He was gifted to me by the Lord of Isengard himself, to help me in my travels.-
- Generous gift, I am sure.- Elrond's tone made some heads turn when he sat, slowly into the head of the table, and the
servants hurried with the food.- Is everything at your please, lady Arien?-
- I could not ask for a better treatment, my lord: I've spent lovely hours in the company of the Lady Arwen. -
Elrond's silence was a bit shocking: he usually was the soul of hospitality, the heart of gentleness. But now his brow was
frowned, his mouth a tense line. And even as Arien ate nonchalantly, the eyes of the Lord of Rivendel were on her with an
expression akin irritation.
Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir did their best to hide their surprise and live up the atmosphera, but everybody breathed in relief
when the dinner was over. The one person apparently oblivious to the Lord's bad mood was Arien itself, who took long
enough sipping her cup of plum wine, her lips turning to the soft reddish orange of the liquor.
- Lady Arien, please come into my study.- Elrond's tone wasn't a plea clearly. But Arien nodded pleasantly, and sauntered
behind Elrond's taut back. Arwen and her brothers looked in alarm: in their father physical idiom, that walk translated between
" royally miffed" and " homicidally pissed off". But Arien winked at them, at Elrond's back, and mouthed:
" Didn't took that long, isn't great?"
Arwen giggled, as Elrohir shook her head in sympathy. In fact, anyone going under Elrond's endless lectures when angry
counted with their utmost sympathy.
- I suppose you aren't really a Gondor's messenger, after all, Lady Arien.-
Elrond closed the door and stood behind his desk, staring at Arien with his eyes going colder by seconds. Arien stood, with not
too much pride but full of dignity against the open window, from where a kind summer breeze moved tendrils escaped from
her hair in a bun.
- I'm sad to tell the wisest elf of Mid Earth that's is wrong, but I am a messenger of Gondor, my lord. –
- This letter comes from Isengard, that even being Gondor's nominal jurisdiction is inhabited for another power.-
- I know.-
- So, you carry too Saruman the white's letters?-
- I haven't denied that, my lord. But I am not his slave, nor of Gondor.-
- Why he sent you, Lady Arien, with such a dreadful letter?-
- Because he surely thought the wise Lord Elrond wouldn't never took his anger into the messenger of bad news, my lord.-
Elrond faltered, stared, and let himself fall into his seat with a groan. When he again peeked through his fingers covering his
eyes, Arien was grinning.
- Don't laugh, messenger. This is NOT a laughing matter.- Elrond smiled weakly.- My apologies. I should have know better
that to believe you are aware of the contents of this letter. I'm afraid my so called " wisdom" deserted me today.-
- Oh, no, my Lord. I am aware of the contains of this letter, as I am of the Lorien's, Black Forest's and Fornost's I have yet
to develop.-
Elrond rose with his eyes cold again.
- You know?-
- Of course. I personally searched for the information that letter contains.-
Elrond was speechless. He paled, and then walked around the desk, to stare directly into Arien's eyes, which didn't flinch
under the lord's intense gaze.
- You are not part of the White Council. How much do you know nonetheless?-
- Enough. –
- How many time have you been the errand boy of Saruman the White?-
- I think you can call me the " errand boy" of Saruman, even if I prefer the title of messenger, thank you.-
Elrond faltered again, and than chuckled without humor.
- And the Lord of Gondor let you serve two masters?-
Arien's eyes shone, at Elrond's slight contempt, but spoke calmly, deliberately.
- I serve one purpose only: the welfare of the Mid Earth, and my own, in that order, Milord.-
Elrond rose eyebrows at the belligerence in her voice. He leaned in his elbows on the desk, taking seat again, and stared at the
lady with his wise, calm, sad eyes of immortal.
- And what can have you seen, Lady Arien, that justifies the wish of Saruman the White to seat ourselves waiting as the
darkness in Dol Guldor grows into black again?- he didn't shout, didn't yelled: but his tone was strong and hard as the steel of
a sword being drawn. And Arien, for the first time looked away, those eyes going right into her brain through the windows her
eyes were.
- I've seen the darkness growing, my Lord, and I have informed of it. But why Saruman the White, White Lord Of Isengard
and High Istari wishes for the Three to wait, I don't know.-
Elrond looked at her, his gaze never wavering. It was a river of silver bathing her, enveloping her: but when she suddenly
answered and glared back, the river found a blue gem: unbreakable, delicate, translucent, but with a deepness of darkness and
light like Elrond haven't seen through the seasons since a very long time.
Where I've seen those eyes…?
- Saruman asked for a response.- Elrond said finally.- Tell him the day of Mid winter, the Darkness would be chased and
banished from Dol Guldor, with or without him. It is clear?- his voice resounded, dangerous, angry: the ring of sapphire in his
hand shone for a second, blue as the night outside when the air was clearer that anywhere in the Mid Earth.
Arien, suddenly, smiled.
- Note taken, my lord. And now, do you want to send any message to Lorien, Fornost or the Forest? I can do you a discount.-
Elrond blinked. And then, laughed, loud.
- And how much is going to cost me to develop the same message to Lorien and to Mithrandir, if my assumptions of who are
you searching are well placed?-
- Indeed are well placed, my lord, and I would thank you any insight about where the Gray Pilgrim can be. I have spent more
time over my horse chasing him north and south the West I've spent in any other mission.- she sighed comically.- But I'll be
glad to repeat your words to the Golden Forest's Lady, and to Mithrandir and the King Thranduil, with only one thing to ask
for.- she smiled charmingly, and Elrond wondered how much it would cost it to him: the messenger smiled like a cat who sees
cream and tries to be nonchalant about it.
- Yes?-
- Can I use your library?-
Quite obsessed, aren't we?
- Do you have any new song for us, Lady Arien?-
Arwen smiled: the anger of her father seemed to have melted, and Arien was still in one piece. The lady, still in her white tunic
smiled, and nodded, as they enjoyed the summer night not in the Music Hall, but outside in the bower.
- Yes, my lady, I have one. I heard it in the great halls of Moria, where I was attended and welcomed: the Lord of Moria,
Balin, gave me fair welcome upon receiving his letter from my lord.-
- The Dwarves can sing?- Elladan looked incredulous.
- Yes. And there I heard this love song.-
- To what? They didn't have women, or didn't they?- Elladan had his eyebrows so high that almost mixed with his hairline.
- Yes, they have, Lord Elladan, and they're beautiful: I've seen them with my own eyes.- said Arien matter of factly. Elrond
gave Elladan a Look, as they called it, to shut him up, but it was unnecessary, because Arien had started to sing and her voice
had the magical gift to make every sound vanish inside her voice. The rhythm of the harp was slow and repeated absorbent in
the slow strength as she sung with only one easy note, the tone deep and soft. It was a soothing song.
She sung.
And Elrond, lonely lord of Rivendel, smiled.
Feel no shame about shape
Weather changes their phrase
Even mother will show you another way
So put your helmets on
Nothing will be wrong
There's no blame, there's no fame, it's up to you
The first words should be finded
Whatever hold you back
I can, I can get it off
Tell me what, tell me what, tell me what you want
I don't know why, don't know why, don't know why are you afraid
Tell me what, tell me what, tell me what you say
I don't know why don't know why, don't know why it's too late
Have no fear for real
It's just a turning wheel
Once you start up there's no other way
Don't put your eyes on boots
Take a step forward your roots
There's no aid there's no trade, it belongs to you
Before you miss something given
You should know what's the truth
I can I can make it out.
- Would you come back before to return Isengard?- Elrond spoke softly the next morning, as he stood in his balcony, watching
the messenger lady leaving with the sunrise in silence, no servants, nobody standing there. It was still fresh mist in the valley,
but the white sky was getting bluer by seconds. It would be a beautiful summer day, good to ride and laugh.
- It depends how quickly I found Mithrandir, my lord.- she sighed, as if she hasn't any illusion than the Gray Pilgrim would be
found easily.
- He is usually here for the Mid Summer Night, Arien.-
Arien smile lit.
- Isn't that an elven custom?-
- I would be surprised at your knowledge, woman of Gondor, didn't I saw how deeply are you interested in elves' matters, or
at least that the books on my library's desk says.-
- Sorry about the mess. I grew interested and interested and then I couldn't remember what book was originally in what
place.-
Elrond was smiling as she jumped to the saddle. She looked pale at the morning sun, but her hair was a shining waterfall, free
in her back over white silk, the horse black as ebony bathed in sunlight.
- Well, you can use my library again when you come back.-
- You are really the smarter elf in Mid Earth, my Lord.- she laughed, and waving goodbye, went into a gallop. And Elrond
stood there watching her disappear through the stone road into the woods, the hills green and white under the just born sun.
Out of the Valley.
Where war is waiting and darkness is falling quickly over the Third Age.
Out of the Valley where the world was as gentle as Elrond was, she walked, into places where the darkness had sharp and
cruel things in her belly.
Take care, Arien of Gondor, sunset lady. Ride safely and then ride back.
I'll see you in under the summer stars.
And I'll make you tell me what are you searching for.
And you'll tell me why.
Tell Me Why
© Berserk Opening Song
An Elrond Romance
by The Fox.
Chapter Two
From Moria
Tell Me Why.
Summer
Elrohir was mildly enraged at his harsh twin, whom had inconsiderately galloped down the Valley into home, leaving
him behind with the entire luggage they carried back from their Dunedain trip. Including some horrible souvenirs Elladan
insisted to spend his money on, including such a revealing hobbit female corset he was certain his father would strangle them
with it before to agree to see Arwen put on. And surely her sister, always up to anything to get their father fire up, would
wear it everyday.
Elrohir could have speed his horse too, but why arrive early to your funeral? Elrond still must be reeling from the rider-with-
breasts joke, only schemed by Elladan and Glorfindel, but one he would pay anyway for, too. He wasn't usually up to that
those of jokes: shy and calm, Elrohir was the one to discover the unconscious rider had some… ah… interesting features. He
still blushed, wondering if father did. Of course of not. He was the wisest elf in the Mid Earth, so it wasn't any chance of it.
But he, his son, blushed everyday, something that was the bane of his existence, usually giving away Elladan and Glorfindel's
jokes and making him pay for his mischievous sibling and teacher.
Hmph.
Sometimes he hated life.
The summer afternoon was hot and sunny, the sky blue as his mother's eyes as the radiance shone in the many waterfalls
crowning the Valley. At sight of one, Elrohir speed up, suddenly wanting nothing else like he wanted to bath his face in cold
water and felt the icy dew of Misty mountains soothe is fevered forehead. But as he drove into the side of the road where the
water plashing can be heard, he heard a voice too singing, and saw an enormous black. The horse was drinking from the tiny
pool as his rider splashed like a boy his face with both hands under the water's white veil.
The hair, reddish gold, in his bent back , like a wild mass, told him away.
Told her away.
Elrohir wandered what to do. Glorfindel never spoke of this way to meet a lady.
- Oh, good afternoon, Milord!- she smiled, face and hair drenched.- Hot day, isn't it?-
- Yes, it is.- Elrohir smiled back, comforted by her simple demeanor.
- The water is deliciously fresh.- she pulled her hair back and gestured him to the tiny waterfall.- Please, I'm done already.-
- Thank you.- for his surprise, Elrohir recognized her accent in elven language, almost flawless fluent sindarin. The accent was
clearly from Gondor, but too had traces from the North. Elrohir could distinct it clearly, even if Elladan used t o say it was the
silliest of the most silliest skills.
- Are you coming to Rivendel, my Lady?- he asked, his hands being washed of dirt by the flowing water. The sun shone
brilliantly in the pool, turning the falling drops into a rain of snowflakes.
- Yes, I am, my lord. I have a letter for the Lord Elrond.- she said, jumping into her saddle with the practice of a not only
trained but expert rider. Elrohir, half-surprised and quite at loss with her, blinked.
- Could you wait for me? I am going home too. I am Elrohir, oldest son of Lord Elrond. And I'll escort you into Imladris, if you
agree.-
- I'm deeply grateful, my lord Elrohir.- her easy, quick smile made her strange blue eyes shine.- Last time I arrived your
marvelous house I was unconscious, so I'm afraid I don't know the quicker way to get into the Valley. Or let's say the safest,
since the quicker one is to jump already.-
Elrohir sputtered, and then laughed. – I'm afraid that, as quick and spectacular your arriving would be, you'll be beyond even
my father's healing powers.-
- And my letters would get dirty, and that's the most important part.- she was laughing good-naturedly as Elrohir saddled too
into his weary horse and leaded her into the descending folds of woods under the road.
- Where are you coming from, my Lady?-
- Moria.-
- Really?- Elrohir's curiosity peaked.- How? And how is it?-
- By horse. And is beautiful beyond description.-
- Are you kidding me?-
- It's good to see you again, alive and well, my Lady Arien.- Elrond was enjoying the fresh a bower delicately made of silver
carvings and deep green vines of violet foam-like flowers hanging from and giving the fresh smell of lime provided, confortably
seated in the brilliantly colored garden, the summer covering Rivendel with a carpet of brand colored flowers, escalating the
roofs, bathing the hills around the Valley.
- I am honored to have the blessing to come here for a second time, my lord.- she said, bowing with a hand over her heart,
Gondor-like style. Elrond smiled, pleased for hearing her perfect noble speech again.- And I thank you again for the help
bestowed over me last time, in my name and my mission.-
- It was a pleasure.- Elrond looked at her hand over her chest, the curve of her hand suggesting a curve hidden by the dark,
hard-cut black summer Gondor garb, and suddenly choked.
- Oh, a pleasure, indeed.- Glorfindel chorused, wicked amusement in his merry eyes.
I'll choke you with that stupid braid of yours, lieutenant.
- I'll hope you'll be staying long, my Lady?- Elladan said with his best innocent smile, even if the Rivendel resident Elves knew
better. It wasn't she wasn't nice enough, but the chance to wind up the stern lord of Imladris was too good to let it pass. The
more days with her there, the merrier.
- I'm afraid I'm on duty. I have a letter from the Lord from Isengard, Lord Elladan.- she said gently, taking a roll of parchment
protected in white leather from her waist. It was sealed with a symbol that made Elrond's eyes narrow in interest: the white
hand. Softly, she kneeled and offered him the roll. Elrond took it, a bit bewildered.
- I thought you said to be a messenger of Gondor, my lady, not from Saruman the White.-
- I am such a wanderer I usually deliver letters for the whole West, my Lord. And Lord Denethor himself recommended my
services to the White Istari of Isengard.-
Elrond would have asked more, but his questions were stopped when Arwen swiftly entered the bower, smiling and happy, her
long green summer dress floating in the wind. She embraced her brothers, and smiled to her father and Glorfindel, to then turn
to the messenger lady with a warm welcome.
- Arien! I'm so happy you had lived up your promise! I was wondering when the wind would take you here again. Have you
time to spend with us?-
- Only a few days. My duties call me, and my lords wait for my letters anxiously.- she said, a quick glance that surprised
Elrond.
Did she know what the White Magician asked of him…?
Elrond, with a nod, took the parchment to his study, leaving the lady with his daughter and sons, in the bower.
Under the bright sun of summer, he suddenly felt a chill.
- You really are worthy of the name of the second Luthien, my lady.-
Arwen stopped dancing, where the summer wind had accompanied her into sunset. Arian was there, leaning in a terrace,
comfortably refreshed, and wearing a silk white tunic over green pants that ended a bit short of her ankles, showing her bare
feet. The Undomiel smiled, and Arien's breath caught: the lady of Rivendel was too much, star of sunset there, the red
summer sun turning her into a statue of honey. And Arwen smiled back, because Arien was the sunset itself, golden hair
redder by the dying sunlight, as she leaned in the wooden rail, her face calm into her contemplation.
- Thanks, lady Arien. But you have the beauty of sun itself.-
If Arien blushed, it was hard to say at that light: but she smiled like receiving a nice and not necessarily true compliment. She
leaned into the rail, her hair almost brushing the bushes of roses lining the terrace, and said with a secretive voice:
- How quick is your father to make his mind about things? I stayed too long in Moria. And I have still to develop Lorien and
King Thranduil's letters.-
- I suppose he will take his time.- she smiled.- Depending the seriousness of the situation.-
- Well, tell me, how long he takes to decide what robe to wear each day?-
- Ages. Longer than me.- Arwen laughed, seeing how the messenger Lady buried her head in her arms with a mouthed damn.
– It is very urgent?-
- Quite so.- Arien looked up, seeing the first stars grace the summer night sky.
- Do you get me a new song, Lady Arien?-
- Of course, my lady Arwen. If something I have always the time to collect, is songs from everyway I go.- she smiled.- But I
would like to ask one of you: I've only heard fragments of the ballad of Beren and Luthien through the years, but I've never
hear it complete in an Elven voice. Would you…?-
- I can ask my Finvanna to sing it. He…-
- I would prefer to hear it in the Tinuviel's own voice, if possible.- Arien said promptly, a gleam on her eyes.
- But Luthien…- Arwen blushed, and then looked back to her shyly.- I'm not worthy of that compliment, my Lady Arien.
Luthien was the mother of Dior Eluchil, who was the father of my grandmother Elwing TheWhite. But I can't be but a pale
reflection of her legendary shine.- slowly, Arwen smiled, her manner growing somber. Where childish joy had shone, now it
was a deeper, serious beauty.- I am just the Sunset Star, not the Noon one she was…-
- Please?-
Arwen surrounded the balcony, her hair moving behind her like a living night curtain, till the stone steps that lead into the ample
terrace. Maple trees around still conserved the reddish hue in his leaves, against the sky now of deep darkening blue. And
Arian's soft, childish plea made the smile came back into her impossible beautiful features, again soft and changing as the sky.
- Only if you call me Arwen, my lady.-
- But I am Arian, so.-
- So.-
- Deal.-
- What?-
- So Luthien chose a mortal life, and her sons have the chance to choose?- Arien was still deeply interested, and the two
young ladies walked, arm in arm to the Main Hall, where the places had been put for them, side by side, Arien just front of
Elladan as Elrohir and Arwen flanked Elrond at the head of the table. – But why? How can any Elf to forsake eternal twilight
for the cruel gift given to the Men?-
Arwen stared at Arien, as they sat.
- Maybe love is greater than the promise of eternal life, Arien.- she said, wise eyes in Arien, who shrugged, taking her seat
after her.
- That, my wise lady, is the one reason I can think of worthy enough.-
- Indeed it is.- Elrohir won a brilliant smile from his sister at that.
- I saw your stallion in the ---, my Lady Arien. He is quite a magnificent animal. A Rohan one, is it?- Elladan interrupted,
already picking some bread under the severe eyes of Arwen, because the Lord of the house hasn't came yet.
- Yes, he is. His name is Elfaroth.- Arien smiled, discussion forgotten.- You're an expert, I see, my Lord Elladan. He took me
as fast as I need. He was gifted to me by the Lord of Isengard himself, to help me in my travels.-
- Generous gift, I am sure.- Elrond's tone made some heads turn when he sat, slowly into the head of the table, and the
servants hurried with the food.- Is everything at your please, lady Arien?-
- I could not ask for a better treatment, my lord: I've spent lovely hours in the company of the Lady Arwen. -
Elrond's silence was a bit shocking: he usually was the soul of hospitality, the heart of gentleness. But now his brow was
frowned, his mouth a tense line. And even as Arien ate nonchalantly, the eyes of the Lord of Rivendel were on her with an
expression akin irritation.
Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir did their best to hide their surprise and live up the atmosphera, but everybody breathed in relief
when the dinner was over. The one person apparently oblivious to the Lord's bad mood was Arien itself, who took long
enough sipping her cup of plum wine, her lips turning to the soft reddish orange of the liquor.
- Lady Arien, please come into my study.- Elrond's tone wasn't a plea clearly. But Arien nodded pleasantly, and sauntered
behind Elrond's taut back. Arwen and her brothers looked in alarm: in their father physical idiom, that walk translated between
" royally miffed" and " homicidally pissed off". But Arien winked at them, at Elrond's back, and mouthed:
" Didn't took that long, isn't great?"
Arwen giggled, as Elrohir shook her head in sympathy. In fact, anyone going under Elrond's endless lectures when angry
counted with their utmost sympathy.
- I suppose you aren't really a Gondor's messenger, after all, Lady Arien.-
Elrond closed the door and stood behind his desk, staring at Arien with his eyes going colder by seconds. Arien stood, with not
too much pride but full of dignity against the open window, from where a kind summer breeze moved tendrils escaped from
her hair in a bun.
- I'm sad to tell the wisest elf of Mid Earth that's is wrong, but I am a messenger of Gondor, my lord. –
- This letter comes from Isengard, that even being Gondor's nominal jurisdiction is inhabited for another power.-
- I know.-
- So, you carry too Saruman the white's letters?-
- I haven't denied that, my lord. But I am not his slave, nor of Gondor.-
- Why he sent you, Lady Arien, with such a dreadful letter?-
- Because he surely thought the wise Lord Elrond wouldn't never took his anger into the messenger of bad news, my lord.-
Elrond faltered, stared, and let himself fall into his seat with a groan. When he again peeked through his fingers covering his
eyes, Arien was grinning.
- Don't laugh, messenger. This is NOT a laughing matter.- Elrond smiled weakly.- My apologies. I should have know better
that to believe you are aware of the contents of this letter. I'm afraid my so called " wisdom" deserted me today.-
- Oh, no, my Lord. I am aware of the contains of this letter, as I am of the Lorien's, Black Forest's and Fornost's I have yet
to develop.-
Elrond rose with his eyes cold again.
- You know?-
- Of course. I personally searched for the information that letter contains.-
Elrond was speechless. He paled, and then walked around the desk, to stare directly into Arien's eyes, which didn't flinch
under the lord's intense gaze.
- You are not part of the White Council. How much do you know nonetheless?-
- Enough. –
- How many time have you been the errand boy of Saruman the White?-
- I think you can call me the " errand boy" of Saruman, even if I prefer the title of messenger, thank you.-
Elrond faltered again, and than chuckled without humor.
- And the Lord of Gondor let you serve two masters?-
Arien's eyes shone, at Elrond's slight contempt, but spoke calmly, deliberately.
- I serve one purpose only: the welfare of the Mid Earth, and my own, in that order, Milord.-
Elrond rose eyebrows at the belligerence in her voice. He leaned in his elbows on the desk, taking seat again, and stared at the
lady with his wise, calm, sad eyes of immortal.
- And what can have you seen, Lady Arien, that justifies the wish of Saruman the White to seat ourselves waiting as the
darkness in Dol Guldor grows into black again?- he didn't shout, didn't yelled: but his tone was strong and hard as the steel of
a sword being drawn. And Arien, for the first time looked away, those eyes going right into her brain through the windows her
eyes were.
- I've seen the darkness growing, my Lord, and I have informed of it. But why Saruman the White, White Lord Of Isengard
and High Istari wishes for the Three to wait, I don't know.-
Elrond looked at her, his gaze never wavering. It was a river of silver bathing her, enveloping her: but when she suddenly
answered and glared back, the river found a blue gem: unbreakable, delicate, translucent, but with a deepness of darkness and
light like Elrond haven't seen through the seasons since a very long time.
Where I've seen those eyes…?
- Saruman asked for a response.- Elrond said finally.- Tell him the day of Mid winter, the Darkness would be chased and
banished from Dol Guldor, with or without him. It is clear?- his voice resounded, dangerous, angry: the ring of sapphire in his
hand shone for a second, blue as the night outside when the air was clearer that anywhere in the Mid Earth.
Arien, suddenly, smiled.
- Note taken, my lord. And now, do you want to send any message to Lorien, Fornost or the Forest? I can do you a discount.-
Elrond blinked. And then, laughed, loud.
- And how much is going to cost me to develop the same message to Lorien and to Mithrandir, if my assumptions of who are
you searching are well placed?-
- Indeed are well placed, my lord, and I would thank you any insight about where the Gray Pilgrim can be. I have spent more
time over my horse chasing him north and south the West I've spent in any other mission.- she sighed comically.- But I'll be
glad to repeat your words to the Golden Forest's Lady, and to Mithrandir and the King Thranduil, with only one thing to ask
for.- she smiled charmingly, and Elrond wondered how much it would cost it to him: the messenger smiled like a cat who sees
cream and tries to be nonchalant about it.
- Yes?-
- Can I use your library?-
Quite obsessed, aren't we?
- Do you have any new song for us, Lady Arien?-
Arwen smiled: the anger of her father seemed to have melted, and Arien was still in one piece. The lady, still in her white tunic
smiled, and nodded, as they enjoyed the summer night not in the Music Hall, but outside in the bower.
- Yes, my lady, I have one. I heard it in the great halls of Moria, where I was attended and welcomed: the Lord of Moria,
Balin, gave me fair welcome upon receiving his letter from my lord.-
- The Dwarves can sing?- Elladan looked incredulous.
- Yes. And there I heard this love song.-
- To what? They didn't have women, or didn't they?- Elladan had his eyebrows so high that almost mixed with his hairline.
- Yes, they have, Lord Elladan, and they're beautiful: I've seen them with my own eyes.- said Arien matter of factly. Elrond
gave Elladan a Look, as they called it, to shut him up, but it was unnecessary, because Arien had started to sing and her voice
had the magical gift to make every sound vanish inside her voice. The rhythm of the harp was slow and repeated absorbent in
the slow strength as she sung with only one easy note, the tone deep and soft. It was a soothing song.
She sung.
And Elrond, lonely lord of Rivendel, smiled.
Feel no shame about shape
Weather changes their phrase
Even mother will show you another way
So put your helmets on
Nothing will be wrong
There's no blame, there's no fame, it's up to you
The first words should be finded
Whatever hold you back
I can, I can get it off
Tell me what, tell me what, tell me what you want
I don't know why, don't know why, don't know why are you afraid
Tell me what, tell me what, tell me what you say
I don't know why don't know why, don't know why it's too late
Have no fear for real
It's just a turning wheel
Once you start up there's no other way
Don't put your eyes on boots
Take a step forward your roots
There's no aid there's no trade, it belongs to you
Before you miss something given
You should know what's the truth
I can I can make it out.
- Would you come back before to return Isengard?- Elrond spoke softly the next morning, as he stood in his balcony, watching
the messenger lady leaving with the sunrise in silence, no servants, nobody standing there. It was still fresh mist in the valley,
but the white sky was getting bluer by seconds. It would be a beautiful summer day, good to ride and laugh.
- It depends how quickly I found Mithrandir, my lord.- she sighed, as if she hasn't any illusion than the Gray Pilgrim would be
found easily.
- He is usually here for the Mid Summer Night, Arien.-
Arien smile lit.
- Isn't that an elven custom?-
- I would be surprised at your knowledge, woman of Gondor, didn't I saw how deeply are you interested in elves' matters, or
at least that the books on my library's desk says.-
- Sorry about the mess. I grew interested and interested and then I couldn't remember what book was originally in what
place.-
Elrond was smiling as she jumped to the saddle. She looked pale at the morning sun, but her hair was a shining waterfall, free
in her back over white silk, the horse black as ebony bathed in sunlight.
- Well, you can use my library again when you come back.-
- You are really the smarter elf in Mid Earth, my Lord.- she laughed, and waving goodbye, went into a gallop. And Elrond
stood there watching her disappear through the stone road into the woods, the hills green and white under the just born sun.
Out of the Valley.
Where war is waiting and darkness is falling quickly over the Third Age.
Out of the Valley where the world was as gentle as Elrond was, she walked, into places where the darkness had sharp and
cruel things in her belly.
Take care, Arien of Gondor, sunset lady. Ride safely and then ride back.
I'll see you in under the summer stars.
And I'll make you tell me what are you searching for.
And you'll tell me why.
Tell Me Why
© Berserk Opening Song