Twelve Songs In Rivendel.
An Elrond Romance
by The Fox.
Chapter Six
Into Eregion
Stars.
The people of Elrond's house was clearly used to travel: they had brought comfortable tents,
food more than enough, and any implement they could need, nonetheless traveling as fast as they
could through the beautiful lands of Eregion. It was a background of deep green in winter around
them, holly trees dark, and slowly patched of snow here and there under white clear sky in their way
to the Mountains. Sunlight sometimes filtered through the clouds, and bathed them in long, slender
columns of golden light: but the weather was cold, and they rode enveloped in thick clothes, the
breath of the horses like white mist.
The Lord of Imladris rode his stallion just behind his sons, whom rode straight ahead under
the watching eyes of Glorfindel, talking and laughing, but with their eyes wide open and alert,
traveler well used to travel across lost lands. Behind Elrond, the caravan hurried, thirty archers and
some servants, being careful to not leave so obvious a trail. And Arien rode with them, leaned back
into her saddle, into a step that for her surely seemed a time to enjoy herself, after years of hurry-
hurry riding. Elfaroth looked very pleased, his black long mane sometimes wet with the falling snow,
brilliant and shiny when he galloped. The both went after the servants, closing the group, ready to
bolt into a ride, but quietly following them.
They had stroke a routine easily: Elrond's people were very organized, and they in matter of
minutes settled the camping, complete with a tent for the Lord. There were others for the sons and
Glorfindel, their inseparable teacher, some individuals, some group ones, and a tilt to use as dinning
place and hall where they light warm fire into shields of steel. They seemed to know the map of the
region by heart, and in fact they did, choosing always the best paths for water and walk. They rode
almost all day, with a little stop at noon to eat lightly, till the rising of moon, when they set camp,
dinner, and sleep till the start of light, when they rode again. Arien knew at full gallop they could
have made it in four days, but it would take a week. Besides, the date was still ten days away: the
Solstice of winter.
Arien had asked Elrond for permission to carry some of his books, and usually was engrossed in one
of them, letting Elfaroth follow them as he please. Elrond was the same, but he often lifted eyes
from his distracting texts to look to the Silver Celebdil, Zigil for the Dwarves, gleaming still in the
distance, everytime looming nearer. And his gaze became worried, everytime.
- Arien?- Elrohir's voice called her, and Arien's face peered out her tent flap, where she was
changing from the heavy riding boots into something plumper.
- Yes, my Lord Elrohir?-
- May I come in?-
- Please.- Elrohir bent, and entered the tiny but cozy tent they had lent Arien. It was roughly two
meters wide, a square of gray cloth surprisingly warm shielding her skin from the cold and the
immense fields, but she was clearly a traveler. Her bunk rested in a corner, the clothes of travel
nicely stocked in other, and she was wearing a warm robe and fluffy shoes, sat over the bunch of
covers and skins she enveloped herself to sleep. She had freed her hair, and seemed to be through
the difficult task to brush it into submission.
- How are you? – He said gently, still in his travel clothes, sitting with his legs crossed next the spot
Arien was sat.
- Fine, my Lord, and enjoying this travel. Your people is so very kind and helpful.-
- I wondered if you're too tired, Arien?-
- I am certainly not.- Arien looked back to Elrohir's handsome face. He was slightly thinner than his
brother, and he often braided and tied his hair, unlike Elladan's wild black mane: but even if the
physical differences between them stopped there, it was no mistaking them. Elladan always looked
ready to jump, thin black lion of brilliant eyes, all movement and strength, a fountain of joy in the
deepness of his clearer gaze. Elrohir was far more quiet, far more thoughtful, more alike his father,
but sensitive and gentle in a sort of sweet, intuitive way that came from Lorien, no Imladris. He was
very closer to a gentle black raven of soft eyes and sharp claws.
- If it that so, would you mind go to make company to father?-
- Isn't he busy, my Lord?-
Elrohir sighed, and rested his sharp chin in a knee.-In fact, he is not, unless you count brooding like
an occupation. We had tried to cheer him up, and we haven't accomplished anything. – He sighed,
and added.- He looked bottomlessly depressed. And he hadn't even spoken of it to Glorfindel.-
- It is maybe the proximity of war, my Lords? Or your impending travel into danger?-
It had been decided Elladan and Elrohir would go to Dol Guldor, to participate into the coming battle.
Arien would go with them, as Elrond let his power soar.
- We had went and come back before. No, Arien, is there something he doesn't want to share. And
Elladan and me remembered you always cheer him up…-
- Do you have no idea why he is so sad, so?-
Elrohir looked away, and spoke softly.
- I don't know if you knew, but years ago our mother was caught in the crossing of the Caradhras
by the orcs, and she was… hurt.- his voice dropped.- She went to Mithlond soon after. My father
has never took this roads again, till now.-
- I understand. Must have been terrible for you.- Arien said sympathetically, her eyes troubled.- If I
can help, I'll go immediately. Lord Elrond has been always so kind to me.-
- I'm glad you are here, Arien.- said Elrohir, warmly.
- I am happy of being able to help my Lord. I'll do my best.-
The night had fallen, and in the brisk wind the people of the house of Elrond stood around made-up
fires, charcoal glowing warmly in the shadows, tossed into silver shields than left the warm to soak
the camp, the sweet scent of apple tree wood filling the nostrils. Arien smiled at them as she made
her way to Elrond's tent, no different at others, but maybe the one occupied as the rest laughed and
sung around the fire. It was a beautiful night, the stars clear but not as clear as Imladris's, brilliant
against the deep black of winter sky. It was no clouds to hide the moon's naked beauty, nor the
outlines of the mountains close ahead. And in the cold wind Arien shivered, turning her back to the
heat and the laughter, and standing just outside of Elrond's closed tent, where a flickering light could
be seen through the cloth.
- My Lord?-
- Yes, Arien?- came the voice, soft and strangely tired.
- May I come in?-
A silence.
- Of course.-
She lifted the tent flap and wlked in. Elrond was sat in some fur, a heavy tunic over trousers, his hair
loose, and even if he has a book nearby it was no way to mistake his position for anything else than
brooding. But even sat in fur and barefoot he looked like a King, and Arien stood in the entrance of
the tent, just barely larger than hers.
- How are you, my lord? Despite our travel, I haven't talk to you for a while.- she said, gently, but
her nervousness betrayed for her biting of a lip.
Elrond smiled at her, but it was a smile devoid of the warm hospitality so characteristic of the Lord
of Rivendel. If like he had left part of his soul behind in his home, with Arwen, and now only the
warrior remains.
- I'm fine, thank you, Lady Arien. Do you need something? Another book, maybe?- the tone was
gentle, but tired. Arien neared him, but didn't attempt to sit.
- Your sons are a bit worried about your spirit, my Lord. Is something wrong?-
Elrond stared at her, and then looked away.
- No Arien. Now, please, go.-
She looked at him: coming from the gentle Lord the petition was almost equivalent to a slap in the
face. But the gentle hands that had healed and held her when crying were tense in his lap, his face
troubled. And Arien felt the misery radiating from him.
- My Lord, I am so sorry for what happened to your Lady…- she said, voice quivering a bit at her
own audacity.- But if she had went oversea, she must be happy in the Blessed lands, and waiting for
you.-
Elrond looked at her, and then, suddenly, stood.
Arien almost fell back.
- I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean…- she blurted, suddenly afraid, not of Elrond power, not of his
ring, but cared to have hurt him again. But he neared her, and took her hand.
- I wasn't thinking in Celebrian, Arien.- he smiled weakly.- But thanks. And I am being very rude.
Would you like to walk with me?-
She nodded, amazed for the change. She followed him outside, but he didn't went into the fires or
the light the elves had lit: he took a long cloak and walked around the camp, where the holly trees
made dark tents and little patches of snow graced the grass, blue at the moonlight. She hurried
behind, unminding the cold, following his long strides.
- So, my Lord… what is troubling you so?- she asked, her breath mist in the night.
- Ah, Arien.- he sighed, a beginning of smile on his voice.- Relentless as only a messenger can be.-
- I'm sorry for my bluntness, my lord…-
- It has been my moping around so obvious?-
She laughed, and he chuckled at his own joke.
- Well, I haven't be so much at your side this previous three days…-
- I'm sorry to have neglected you. I had things to consider.- he added, voice low.
- My Lord…- she was at loss for words. They had found a spot where the tree trees made a
triangle, their branches intertwined making for them a perfect frame to the moon. In that shadow,
Elrond eyes were almost white, his hair black as night. He threw his hood back, and stood, bathed by
moonlight, face up as to receive a kiss, the moonlight cascading over him like a caress he needed,
warm whiteness to fade away his worry. Arien stood, mesmerized by the breathtaking sight.
- Arien…-
- My Lord?-
- Sing something for me, please?-
She leaned in a trunk, in the shadows, and her gaze grew dark as she sung, voice quivering slightly.
That I want to fall from the stars
Straight in to your arms
I feel love
I hope you comprehend
Since the many hearts you've broken
A lover's word standing in the maybe
So many words we have left unspoken
This silent voices is driving me crazy
After all the pain you caused me
Even if nothing was your intention
You never knew how much you hurt me
Say, can't you see
That I want to fall from the stars
Straight in to your arms
I feel love
I hope you comprehend…
Her voice faded, the melody still in the air. Elrond let his head fell again, and looked at her, there
standing in the light, she in the shadows. A long silence stretched between them, as the wind died,
leaving all still and expectant…
- Why you do this to me, Arien of Gondor, messenger of Isengard?- he said suddenly, a furious
whisper that started Arien out of the warm shadows like a shot of snow. she took a step back
against the rough trunk, but Elrond, face now serious and tense, strode to her, cloak heavily moving
around him.
She gasped, and found herself staring to white gray eyes, now not a trace of the warm, detached
nobility of the Peredhil son of stars, the Elven Lord of Imladris. She was watching right into the eyes
of a Man, king of Men, and she was caught.
Elrond kissed her, bending his proud head like a drowning man, dark red mantle enveloping her into a
world of heat and softness. Arien almost lost foot, arms molding her into another body, fingers
intertwining in her hair, tilting her head so no recess of her mouth was forgotten, a onslaught so
powerful into her senses that her eyes were closed like by another will. A knee went between hers,
trapping her effectively: a hand that was powerful as steel drove down her back, magic that now not
healed but awoke every nerve, flooding from those fingers. Arien threw her head back, no air in her
lungs, lost in the embrace of something unstoppable.
- My Lord…- she whispered.- No…-
The red jewel she wore always between her breasts, under the tunic, was pressed against her skin,
hurting.
- No Peredhil had even been happy with an elf, my messenger.- he hissed, anger and bitterness in
his voice.- We are so few… we are always alone and lost…-
- My Lord…-
- Few had found the happiness, Arien. Luthien and Idril… Beren and Tuor… their happiness cursed
us with a doom that goes beyond the waning. Elros suffered missing the Fair race in his heart,
ashamed of it, as I miss my Human kind too. But just Elrond and Elwing, my parents, two Peredhils,
could really love each other… Dior, Half Elven as me, suffered his destiny, unloved by Fair Nimloth
till his death… as I suffered mine with poor Celebrian, till she hated me…-
- My Lord, no…-
- She hated me, Arien. She never could understand… she never could accept the Man in me, she,
The Lady of Lorien, daughter of the highest elves… and she left, hating me, the stained elf, the
incomplete man…-
The moon had left: the shadows enveloped them, Elrond's angry, hurt whisper, Arien's breathing
uneven, pained by his pressure, sound loud as harsh.
- What is with you, that turns me into a man? I had forgotten. I was waning… I was waning like an
elf, with no pain…-
- My Lord, I've never…-
- It's the distant blood of Elros in the Númenoreans? Is that it, Arien, what calls me to you so
strongly?-
- Please… let me go, my Lord…-
A silence.
A hiss.
- Like hell I'm going to let go my last chance at love, Arien.-
He was in her again, kissing her with strength unknown to elves, powerful and dark. And she was
beginning to answer in kind, when a shout broke them apart.
The sound of a horn.
- Elladan!- he whispered, running back to the camp.
- Kobolds!-
The torches of the camp flared: the bows sung. In circle around the tents, Elrond people defended
themselves against the onslaught of ugly creatures, dark tall beasts that brandished swords and axes
with unstoppable strength. Defying arrows, Glorfindel was standing over a rock, his sword slaying
any one who dared to come to close to the tight circle of light. Elladan was in the vanguard, his blade
singing in the air in each passing moment, a torch in his left hand putting the kobolds nearby in
flames, his face in a grin. Elrohir was back with the archers, guiding them, his clear voice giving the
orders of Hado I philinn! (Fire the arrows!), his own bow glistening at the firelight.
Elrond stood, disarmed, watching the battle rage, Arien by his side, eyes narrowed. He extended a
hand to quiet her, and closed his eyes for a while. And then, just after an arrow discharge made the
kobolds to recoil, he took her hand and bolted to the camp, as in the same moment Elrohir and
Elladan turned to stare to him directly, just like they had heard a muted call.
Arien, unbelievingly, saw Elrond go against the kobold's back, barehanded, pulling her with him.
Something in the light, whirling.
Elrond caught it in mid-flew: his sword, sent flying by Glorfindel's powerful hand. And he opened the
way, as Arien caught a fallen kobold's knife, and they went over the unprotected backs of the
kobolds.
And they made through, quick and swift, into the barrier of dark, stinky bodies and splashing blood,
to finally get into the circle of light, Elladan and Elrohir receiving them with open arms.
- Down!- Glorfindel shouted, and Elrond covered Arien's with his body in a heap of red mantle as
the arrows flew over their heads. Arien went for Culmoth, as Elrond's Ilmluin gleamin in his hand.
- FIGHT!- Elrond bellowed.- ELBERETH!-
The swords of Rivendel bared naked and white at once at the call of their master, the warriors
followed the Lord and his sons into body-to-body battle, the fires in the camp burning brighter, like a
circle of fire. Engaged in the fight, elves shining like beacons of light, they charged. Glorfindel fought
back to back to his Master: Arien found comprised between fiery Elladan and skilled Elrohir, the
knife still in her left hand, her eyes glistening in a intense pale fire.
It were so many, so many, that killing two only made four to occupy their place. But they fought for
what seemed hours, sweat in their foreheads, till a shout broke the unending song of steel and flesh:
- DUNEDAIN!-
- ELENDIL!-
Estel was beyond pissed, as they finally were able to reunite in the roof that served as hall. Elladan
was cursing as hell in the infirmary tent, being treated, because an arrow had pierced him through
the thigh like a knife in butted. Elrohir was covered in bruises, his pale face red from the scratches,
and Elrond had both hands covered with dried, matted blood from his hurt knuckles.
- You should have told me, Adar!- he growled. Halbarad, Estel's second and best friend risked a
glance to Arien, and lifted his eyebrows in uncomfortable companionship. It wasn't a pleasure
seeing them two fight: Elrond grew cold and aloof, eyes like distant gray glaciers, as Estel exploded
in fire and passion. And now, Estel walked like an infuriated tiger, Elrond comfortably sat, nursing
his hurt fingers, his cold eyes narrowed.
- If we haven't come…-
- My people would have dispatched them, Estel.- Elrond eyed his foster son, facing him with the
unbreakable reserve of the Elves: but in the bottom there was a dangerous flame.
- Father, how are you going to attack Dol Guldor with only thirty bows? You'll be massacred!
Where's Mithrandir? And surely the Lady of Lorien can't agree…-
- Estel?- Elrond was looking slightly murderous.- Would you SHUT YOUR MOUTH?-
The roar quieted Eregion in miles around. Estel stood there, gaping, as Elrond loomed dangerously
close.
- Go to Rivendel. Arwen is alone there. And I would like to know she is protected.-
Estel's young face lit, and it was funny how he tried to stay stern.
- But I would prefer to go to the war, Adar!- he wailed, pacing.- My Dunedain…-
- I know, son.- Elrond was massaging his temples.- And no need to shout at me. You ride very
quickly in Roheryn: so go to Rivendel, and then back to Dol Guldor if that's your desire. There it
would be enough battle for everybody. But…- his voice dropped, and he shed the anger to a tired
mischief.-… I can't help but to be worried for my daughter's safety. If the dark beasts managed to
cross the Misty Mountains, they could attack Rivendel…- he let that thought trail off. Halbarad was
trying his best to hide a smirk.
- I'll go and protect her, Father.- said Estel, eyes shiny.
- Thank you, son.- Elrond had barely dispatched him and Estel was already calling out his Dunedain
to ride into Rivendel, to protect the valley. And Elrohir had the decency to wait for him to disappear
before to start a fit of giggles.
- All hail Lord Elrond, master of wisdom.- he mock praised, grinning.- Dad, Arwen isn't in danger,
isn't it?-
- No.- Elrond said, serving himself a glass of aromatic wine.- and if any dark creature manages to
cross the Misty Mountains in middle winter, let them to conquer Rivendel, if they have any strength
left.- he added, smiling evilly.
- But the Dunedain, even if they are few, would do good in a battle.- said Glorfindel, entering to the
roof to grab a bite, still standing, smelling foul from the crematory pyres where they were
dispatching the kobold's fallen.
- They would, indeed.- Elrond looked at him gravely.- But this is not the Last Alliance. We'll trust in
magic and in the Valar: hope Arda's power in Dol Guldur, a place that is not evil, would be enough.-
he sighed.- And if we fail, no amount of swords or warriors would be enough. the time of swords
will come, my heart says, but not now. And Estel would be need, but when he'll be ready. Till them,
I want him safe.-
- Your foster son, Lord Estel, is the Dunedain Captain?- Arien's voice startled them: they had
forgotten the Lady, face clean and pale but covered in scratches, his warm black tunic matted with
dried blood, a dark bruise over her naked shoulder, where the tunic had been cut in a kobold's
attempt to behead her.
And a bruise in her soft lips that hadn't anything to do with the improptu battle.
Elrond stared at her a second. And then, he said, voice gentle and calm, but still hoarse for all the
shouting.
- Elrohir, Glorfindel, please go to direct the cleaning. I have to talk to Arien, alone.-
The teacher and the young lord shared a look, nodded, and sauntered out the room smirking. But
Arien was nowhere near as cheerful as she neared Elrond, whom was standing there in his dirty
mantle, a glass in hand, his eyes troubled and serious.
But it was the Lord Elrond again, no traces of the wild Human warrior there. He smiled sadly, and
patted the bench where he sat.
- Please, come and sit with me, Arien. I would not try to attack you again, I swear.- he added. Arien
sat with her hurt fingers hiding themselves in the long sleeves of her tunic, and looked at the Lord,
whom was staring back with sorrow in his face.
- I offer you my deepest apologies, my lady. No inner turmoil excuses what I done to you… I
attacked you like a beast and I am deeply ashamed of myself. No Lord worthy of that name would
have insulted you like that. I can only beg for your forgiveness, and assure you I would never indulge
again in such a criminal moment of foolishness.-
- There's nothing to forgive, my Lord.- she said, voice quivering a little.
He slowly took her hurt hand into his own hurt ones. It was warm again, but felt detached, as
healing powers flowed in, calming the pain from the bruises.
- Yes, there is, and can only hope you would forgive me some day, my dear Arien.-
She nodded, numbly. The red stone hanging from her neck had escaped from the fabric, and hanged
out, over her heart, catching the light.
- My Lord…-
- Yes, my dear child?-
- What you did told me was… historical?-
- What?-
- About Dior Eluchil and his wife Nimloth…?-
Elrond blinked.
-… Well, yes. My mother inherited me the diary of her father… a sad story, really.-
- But… your mother was really Peredhil? Lady Elwing the White wasn't only one quarter of
Human?-
- Anyone with a drop of human blood in his vein is Peredhil.- Elrond said matter of factly.
- And in the reverse case?-
- Arien, do you think this is the moment for this conversation?-
She blushed.
- I'm sorry my Lord. I got carried away.-
- Sometimes you get scary with your hobbies.- he sighed affectionately.- Valandil was like that with
his coin collection. Your race is so funny sometimes.-
The remark turned Arien's eyes somber, so much that Elrond's smile faltered.
- Arien…?-
- I'll go to rest, my Lord. When we will get into the travel again?-
- No sooner that noon.- Elrond answered.- Arien…-
- I'm sorry about your lady, my lord.-
- She found rest, and is happy now.- he said calmly.
- I meant… what you did say.-
- Oh.- Elrond stood, and helped himself to the wine.- It happened long ago.-
It was a silence.
- Yes, it happened long ago, in a man's years.- Her voice stood in the air like a sudden rain scent.
But Arien was gone when he whirled around, glass in hand. The red wine spilled over the rough
table, and Elrond meet his own eyes in the mess. It looked like blood, and suddenly, Elrond felt a
wave of nausea.
Elbereth, lady of Stars, its amused you driving me crazy?
Stars
© Simply Red.
An Elrond Romance
by The Fox.
Chapter Six
Into Eregion
Stars.
The people of Elrond's house was clearly used to travel: they had brought comfortable tents,
food more than enough, and any implement they could need, nonetheless traveling as fast as they
could through the beautiful lands of Eregion. It was a background of deep green in winter around
them, holly trees dark, and slowly patched of snow here and there under white clear sky in their way
to the Mountains. Sunlight sometimes filtered through the clouds, and bathed them in long, slender
columns of golden light: but the weather was cold, and they rode enveloped in thick clothes, the
breath of the horses like white mist.
The Lord of Imladris rode his stallion just behind his sons, whom rode straight ahead under
the watching eyes of Glorfindel, talking and laughing, but with their eyes wide open and alert,
traveler well used to travel across lost lands. Behind Elrond, the caravan hurried, thirty archers and
some servants, being careful to not leave so obvious a trail. And Arien rode with them, leaned back
into her saddle, into a step that for her surely seemed a time to enjoy herself, after years of hurry-
hurry riding. Elfaroth looked very pleased, his black long mane sometimes wet with the falling snow,
brilliant and shiny when he galloped. The both went after the servants, closing the group, ready to
bolt into a ride, but quietly following them.
They had stroke a routine easily: Elrond's people were very organized, and they in matter of
minutes settled the camping, complete with a tent for the Lord. There were others for the sons and
Glorfindel, their inseparable teacher, some individuals, some group ones, and a tilt to use as dinning
place and hall where they light warm fire into shields of steel. They seemed to know the map of the
region by heart, and in fact they did, choosing always the best paths for water and walk. They rode
almost all day, with a little stop at noon to eat lightly, till the rising of moon, when they set camp,
dinner, and sleep till the start of light, when they rode again. Arien knew at full gallop they could
have made it in four days, but it would take a week. Besides, the date was still ten days away: the
Solstice of winter.
Arien had asked Elrond for permission to carry some of his books, and usually was engrossed in one
of them, letting Elfaroth follow them as he please. Elrond was the same, but he often lifted eyes
from his distracting texts to look to the Silver Celebdil, Zigil for the Dwarves, gleaming still in the
distance, everytime looming nearer. And his gaze became worried, everytime.
- Arien?- Elrohir's voice called her, and Arien's face peered out her tent flap, where she was
changing from the heavy riding boots into something plumper.
- Yes, my Lord Elrohir?-
- May I come in?-
- Please.- Elrohir bent, and entered the tiny but cozy tent they had lent Arien. It was roughly two
meters wide, a square of gray cloth surprisingly warm shielding her skin from the cold and the
immense fields, but she was clearly a traveler. Her bunk rested in a corner, the clothes of travel
nicely stocked in other, and she was wearing a warm robe and fluffy shoes, sat over the bunch of
covers and skins she enveloped herself to sleep. She had freed her hair, and seemed to be through
the difficult task to brush it into submission.
- How are you? – He said gently, still in his travel clothes, sitting with his legs crossed next the spot
Arien was sat.
- Fine, my Lord, and enjoying this travel. Your people is so very kind and helpful.-
- I wondered if you're too tired, Arien?-
- I am certainly not.- Arien looked back to Elrohir's handsome face. He was slightly thinner than his
brother, and he often braided and tied his hair, unlike Elladan's wild black mane: but even if the
physical differences between them stopped there, it was no mistaking them. Elladan always looked
ready to jump, thin black lion of brilliant eyes, all movement and strength, a fountain of joy in the
deepness of his clearer gaze. Elrohir was far more quiet, far more thoughtful, more alike his father,
but sensitive and gentle in a sort of sweet, intuitive way that came from Lorien, no Imladris. He was
very closer to a gentle black raven of soft eyes and sharp claws.
- If it that so, would you mind go to make company to father?-
- Isn't he busy, my Lord?-
Elrohir sighed, and rested his sharp chin in a knee.-In fact, he is not, unless you count brooding like
an occupation. We had tried to cheer him up, and we haven't accomplished anything. – He sighed,
and added.- He looked bottomlessly depressed. And he hadn't even spoken of it to Glorfindel.-
- It is maybe the proximity of war, my Lords? Or your impending travel into danger?-
It had been decided Elladan and Elrohir would go to Dol Guldor, to participate into the coming battle.
Arien would go with them, as Elrond let his power soar.
- We had went and come back before. No, Arien, is there something he doesn't want to share. And
Elladan and me remembered you always cheer him up…-
- Do you have no idea why he is so sad, so?-
Elrohir looked away, and spoke softly.
- I don't know if you knew, but years ago our mother was caught in the crossing of the Caradhras
by the orcs, and she was… hurt.- his voice dropped.- She went to Mithlond soon after. My father
has never took this roads again, till now.-
- I understand. Must have been terrible for you.- Arien said sympathetically, her eyes troubled.- If I
can help, I'll go immediately. Lord Elrond has been always so kind to me.-
- I'm glad you are here, Arien.- said Elrohir, warmly.
- I am happy of being able to help my Lord. I'll do my best.-
The night had fallen, and in the brisk wind the people of the house of Elrond stood around made-up
fires, charcoal glowing warmly in the shadows, tossed into silver shields than left the warm to soak
the camp, the sweet scent of apple tree wood filling the nostrils. Arien smiled at them as she made
her way to Elrond's tent, no different at others, but maybe the one occupied as the rest laughed and
sung around the fire. It was a beautiful night, the stars clear but not as clear as Imladris's, brilliant
against the deep black of winter sky. It was no clouds to hide the moon's naked beauty, nor the
outlines of the mountains close ahead. And in the cold wind Arien shivered, turning her back to the
heat and the laughter, and standing just outside of Elrond's closed tent, where a flickering light could
be seen through the cloth.
- My Lord?-
- Yes, Arien?- came the voice, soft and strangely tired.
- May I come in?-
A silence.
- Of course.-
She lifted the tent flap and wlked in. Elrond was sat in some fur, a heavy tunic over trousers, his hair
loose, and even if he has a book nearby it was no way to mistake his position for anything else than
brooding. But even sat in fur and barefoot he looked like a King, and Arien stood in the entrance of
the tent, just barely larger than hers.
- How are you, my lord? Despite our travel, I haven't talk to you for a while.- she said, gently, but
her nervousness betrayed for her biting of a lip.
Elrond smiled at her, but it was a smile devoid of the warm hospitality so characteristic of the Lord
of Rivendel. If like he had left part of his soul behind in his home, with Arwen, and now only the
warrior remains.
- I'm fine, thank you, Lady Arien. Do you need something? Another book, maybe?- the tone was
gentle, but tired. Arien neared him, but didn't attempt to sit.
- Your sons are a bit worried about your spirit, my Lord. Is something wrong?-
Elrond stared at her, and then looked away.
- No Arien. Now, please, go.-
She looked at him: coming from the gentle Lord the petition was almost equivalent to a slap in the
face. But the gentle hands that had healed and held her when crying were tense in his lap, his face
troubled. And Arien felt the misery radiating from him.
- My Lord, I am so sorry for what happened to your Lady…- she said, voice quivering a bit at her
own audacity.- But if she had went oversea, she must be happy in the Blessed lands, and waiting for
you.-
Elrond looked at her, and then, suddenly, stood.
Arien almost fell back.
- I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean…- she blurted, suddenly afraid, not of Elrond power, not of his
ring, but cared to have hurt him again. But he neared her, and took her hand.
- I wasn't thinking in Celebrian, Arien.- he smiled weakly.- But thanks. And I am being very rude.
Would you like to walk with me?-
She nodded, amazed for the change. She followed him outside, but he didn't went into the fires or
the light the elves had lit: he took a long cloak and walked around the camp, where the holly trees
made dark tents and little patches of snow graced the grass, blue at the moonlight. She hurried
behind, unminding the cold, following his long strides.
- So, my Lord… what is troubling you so?- she asked, her breath mist in the night.
- Ah, Arien.- he sighed, a beginning of smile on his voice.- Relentless as only a messenger can be.-
- I'm sorry for my bluntness, my lord…-
- It has been my moping around so obvious?-
She laughed, and he chuckled at his own joke.
- Well, I haven't be so much at your side this previous three days…-
- I'm sorry to have neglected you. I had things to consider.- he added, voice low.
- My Lord…- she was at loss for words. They had found a spot where the tree trees made a
triangle, their branches intertwined making for them a perfect frame to the moon. In that shadow,
Elrond eyes were almost white, his hair black as night. He threw his hood back, and stood, bathed by
moonlight, face up as to receive a kiss, the moonlight cascading over him like a caress he needed,
warm whiteness to fade away his worry. Arien stood, mesmerized by the breathtaking sight.
- Arien…-
- My Lord?-
- Sing something for me, please?-
She leaned in a trunk, in the shadows, and her gaze grew dark as she sung, voice quivering slightly.
That I want to fall from the stars
Straight in to your arms
I feel love
I hope you comprehend
Since the many hearts you've broken
A lover's word standing in the maybe
So many words we have left unspoken
This silent voices is driving me crazy
After all the pain you caused me
Even if nothing was your intention
You never knew how much you hurt me
Say, can't you see
That I want to fall from the stars
Straight in to your arms
I feel love
I hope you comprehend…
Her voice faded, the melody still in the air. Elrond let his head fell again, and looked at her, there
standing in the light, she in the shadows. A long silence stretched between them, as the wind died,
leaving all still and expectant…
- Why you do this to me, Arien of Gondor, messenger of Isengard?- he said suddenly, a furious
whisper that started Arien out of the warm shadows like a shot of snow. she took a step back
against the rough trunk, but Elrond, face now serious and tense, strode to her, cloak heavily moving
around him.
She gasped, and found herself staring to white gray eyes, now not a trace of the warm, detached
nobility of the Peredhil son of stars, the Elven Lord of Imladris. She was watching right into the eyes
of a Man, king of Men, and she was caught.
Elrond kissed her, bending his proud head like a drowning man, dark red mantle enveloping her into a
world of heat and softness. Arien almost lost foot, arms molding her into another body, fingers
intertwining in her hair, tilting her head so no recess of her mouth was forgotten, a onslaught so
powerful into her senses that her eyes were closed like by another will. A knee went between hers,
trapping her effectively: a hand that was powerful as steel drove down her back, magic that now not
healed but awoke every nerve, flooding from those fingers. Arien threw her head back, no air in her
lungs, lost in the embrace of something unstoppable.
- My Lord…- she whispered.- No…-
The red jewel she wore always between her breasts, under the tunic, was pressed against her skin,
hurting.
- No Peredhil had even been happy with an elf, my messenger.- he hissed, anger and bitterness in
his voice.- We are so few… we are always alone and lost…-
- My Lord…-
- Few had found the happiness, Arien. Luthien and Idril… Beren and Tuor… their happiness cursed
us with a doom that goes beyond the waning. Elros suffered missing the Fair race in his heart,
ashamed of it, as I miss my Human kind too. But just Elrond and Elwing, my parents, two Peredhils,
could really love each other… Dior, Half Elven as me, suffered his destiny, unloved by Fair Nimloth
till his death… as I suffered mine with poor Celebrian, till she hated me…-
- My Lord, no…-
- She hated me, Arien. She never could understand… she never could accept the Man in me, she,
The Lady of Lorien, daughter of the highest elves… and she left, hating me, the stained elf, the
incomplete man…-
The moon had left: the shadows enveloped them, Elrond's angry, hurt whisper, Arien's breathing
uneven, pained by his pressure, sound loud as harsh.
- What is with you, that turns me into a man? I had forgotten. I was waning… I was waning like an
elf, with no pain…-
- My Lord, I've never…-
- It's the distant blood of Elros in the Númenoreans? Is that it, Arien, what calls me to you so
strongly?-
- Please… let me go, my Lord…-
A silence.
A hiss.
- Like hell I'm going to let go my last chance at love, Arien.-
He was in her again, kissing her with strength unknown to elves, powerful and dark. And she was
beginning to answer in kind, when a shout broke them apart.
The sound of a horn.
- Elladan!- he whispered, running back to the camp.
- Kobolds!-
The torches of the camp flared: the bows sung. In circle around the tents, Elrond people defended
themselves against the onslaught of ugly creatures, dark tall beasts that brandished swords and axes
with unstoppable strength. Defying arrows, Glorfindel was standing over a rock, his sword slaying
any one who dared to come to close to the tight circle of light. Elladan was in the vanguard, his blade
singing in the air in each passing moment, a torch in his left hand putting the kobolds nearby in
flames, his face in a grin. Elrohir was back with the archers, guiding them, his clear voice giving the
orders of Hado I philinn! (Fire the arrows!), his own bow glistening at the firelight.
Elrond stood, disarmed, watching the battle rage, Arien by his side, eyes narrowed. He extended a
hand to quiet her, and closed his eyes for a while. And then, just after an arrow discharge made the
kobolds to recoil, he took her hand and bolted to the camp, as in the same moment Elrohir and
Elladan turned to stare to him directly, just like they had heard a muted call.
Arien, unbelievingly, saw Elrond go against the kobold's back, barehanded, pulling her with him.
Something in the light, whirling.
Elrond caught it in mid-flew: his sword, sent flying by Glorfindel's powerful hand. And he opened the
way, as Arien caught a fallen kobold's knife, and they went over the unprotected backs of the
kobolds.
And they made through, quick and swift, into the barrier of dark, stinky bodies and splashing blood,
to finally get into the circle of light, Elladan and Elrohir receiving them with open arms.
- Down!- Glorfindel shouted, and Elrond covered Arien's with his body in a heap of red mantle as
the arrows flew over their heads. Arien went for Culmoth, as Elrond's Ilmluin gleamin in his hand.
- FIGHT!- Elrond bellowed.- ELBERETH!-
The swords of Rivendel bared naked and white at once at the call of their master, the warriors
followed the Lord and his sons into body-to-body battle, the fires in the camp burning brighter, like a
circle of fire. Engaged in the fight, elves shining like beacons of light, they charged. Glorfindel fought
back to back to his Master: Arien found comprised between fiery Elladan and skilled Elrohir, the
knife still in her left hand, her eyes glistening in a intense pale fire.
It were so many, so many, that killing two only made four to occupy their place. But they fought for
what seemed hours, sweat in their foreheads, till a shout broke the unending song of steel and flesh:
- DUNEDAIN!-
- ELENDIL!-
Estel was beyond pissed, as they finally were able to reunite in the roof that served as hall. Elladan
was cursing as hell in the infirmary tent, being treated, because an arrow had pierced him through
the thigh like a knife in butted. Elrohir was covered in bruises, his pale face red from the scratches,
and Elrond had both hands covered with dried, matted blood from his hurt knuckles.
- You should have told me, Adar!- he growled. Halbarad, Estel's second and best friend risked a
glance to Arien, and lifted his eyebrows in uncomfortable companionship. It wasn't a pleasure
seeing them two fight: Elrond grew cold and aloof, eyes like distant gray glaciers, as Estel exploded
in fire and passion. And now, Estel walked like an infuriated tiger, Elrond comfortably sat, nursing
his hurt fingers, his cold eyes narrowed.
- If we haven't come…-
- My people would have dispatched them, Estel.- Elrond eyed his foster son, facing him with the
unbreakable reserve of the Elves: but in the bottom there was a dangerous flame.
- Father, how are you going to attack Dol Guldor with only thirty bows? You'll be massacred!
Where's Mithrandir? And surely the Lady of Lorien can't agree…-
- Estel?- Elrond was looking slightly murderous.- Would you SHUT YOUR MOUTH?-
The roar quieted Eregion in miles around. Estel stood there, gaping, as Elrond loomed dangerously
close.
- Go to Rivendel. Arwen is alone there. And I would like to know she is protected.-
Estel's young face lit, and it was funny how he tried to stay stern.
- But I would prefer to go to the war, Adar!- he wailed, pacing.- My Dunedain…-
- I know, son.- Elrond was massaging his temples.- And no need to shout at me. You ride very
quickly in Roheryn: so go to Rivendel, and then back to Dol Guldor if that's your desire. There it
would be enough battle for everybody. But…- his voice dropped, and he shed the anger to a tired
mischief.-… I can't help but to be worried for my daughter's safety. If the dark beasts managed to
cross the Misty Mountains, they could attack Rivendel…- he let that thought trail off. Halbarad was
trying his best to hide a smirk.
- I'll go and protect her, Father.- said Estel, eyes shiny.
- Thank you, son.- Elrond had barely dispatched him and Estel was already calling out his Dunedain
to ride into Rivendel, to protect the valley. And Elrohir had the decency to wait for him to disappear
before to start a fit of giggles.
- All hail Lord Elrond, master of wisdom.- he mock praised, grinning.- Dad, Arwen isn't in danger,
isn't it?-
- No.- Elrond said, serving himself a glass of aromatic wine.- and if any dark creature manages to
cross the Misty Mountains in middle winter, let them to conquer Rivendel, if they have any strength
left.- he added, smiling evilly.
- But the Dunedain, even if they are few, would do good in a battle.- said Glorfindel, entering to the
roof to grab a bite, still standing, smelling foul from the crematory pyres where they were
dispatching the kobold's fallen.
- They would, indeed.- Elrond looked at him gravely.- But this is not the Last Alliance. We'll trust in
magic and in the Valar: hope Arda's power in Dol Guldur, a place that is not evil, would be enough.-
he sighed.- And if we fail, no amount of swords or warriors would be enough. the time of swords
will come, my heart says, but not now. And Estel would be need, but when he'll be ready. Till them,
I want him safe.-
- Your foster son, Lord Estel, is the Dunedain Captain?- Arien's voice startled them: they had
forgotten the Lady, face clean and pale but covered in scratches, his warm black tunic matted with
dried blood, a dark bruise over her naked shoulder, where the tunic had been cut in a kobold's
attempt to behead her.
And a bruise in her soft lips that hadn't anything to do with the improptu battle.
Elrond stared at her a second. And then, he said, voice gentle and calm, but still hoarse for all the
shouting.
- Elrohir, Glorfindel, please go to direct the cleaning. I have to talk to Arien, alone.-
The teacher and the young lord shared a look, nodded, and sauntered out the room smirking. But
Arien was nowhere near as cheerful as she neared Elrond, whom was standing there in his dirty
mantle, a glass in hand, his eyes troubled and serious.
But it was the Lord Elrond again, no traces of the wild Human warrior there. He smiled sadly, and
patted the bench where he sat.
- Please, come and sit with me, Arien. I would not try to attack you again, I swear.- he added. Arien
sat with her hurt fingers hiding themselves in the long sleeves of her tunic, and looked at the Lord,
whom was staring back with sorrow in his face.
- I offer you my deepest apologies, my lady. No inner turmoil excuses what I done to you… I
attacked you like a beast and I am deeply ashamed of myself. No Lord worthy of that name would
have insulted you like that. I can only beg for your forgiveness, and assure you I would never indulge
again in such a criminal moment of foolishness.-
- There's nothing to forgive, my Lord.- she said, voice quivering a little.
He slowly took her hurt hand into his own hurt ones. It was warm again, but felt detached, as
healing powers flowed in, calming the pain from the bruises.
- Yes, there is, and can only hope you would forgive me some day, my dear Arien.-
She nodded, numbly. The red stone hanging from her neck had escaped from the fabric, and hanged
out, over her heart, catching the light.
- My Lord…-
- Yes, my dear child?-
- What you did told me was… historical?-
- What?-
- About Dior Eluchil and his wife Nimloth…?-
Elrond blinked.
-… Well, yes. My mother inherited me the diary of her father… a sad story, really.-
- But… your mother was really Peredhil? Lady Elwing the White wasn't only one quarter of
Human?-
- Anyone with a drop of human blood in his vein is Peredhil.- Elrond said matter of factly.
- And in the reverse case?-
- Arien, do you think this is the moment for this conversation?-
She blushed.
- I'm sorry my Lord. I got carried away.-
- Sometimes you get scary with your hobbies.- he sighed affectionately.- Valandil was like that with
his coin collection. Your race is so funny sometimes.-
The remark turned Arien's eyes somber, so much that Elrond's smile faltered.
- Arien…?-
- I'll go to rest, my Lord. When we will get into the travel again?-
- No sooner that noon.- Elrond answered.- Arien…-
- I'm sorry about your lady, my lord.-
- She found rest, and is happy now.- he said calmly.
- I meant… what you did say.-
- Oh.- Elrond stood, and helped himself to the wine.- It happened long ago.-
It was a silence.
- Yes, it happened long ago, in a man's years.- Her voice stood in the air like a sudden rain scent.
But Arien was gone when he whirled around, glass in hand. The red wine spilled over the rough
table, and Elrond meet his own eyes in the mess. It looked like blood, and suddenly, Elrond felt a
wave of nausea.
Elbereth, lady of Stars, its amused you driving me crazy?
Stars
© Simply Red.