RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
16.
"Gandalf!" cried Elenath as she leapt out of bed and threw herself at the old Wizard in a joyful hug. He leaned on a gnarled staff and was robed in gray, his long hair and scraggly beard hanging down, it seemed, almost to his knees.
He chuckled to himself as he pulled her near. "My dear, I hope that you never become to old or too wise to greet your old godfather in such a way."
"Why are you here?" she asked, "Will you stay long?"
"Well," he replied, "I heard a rumor that the young princess of Rivendell was near death. Apparently those rumors were false, though it is strange to see you abed at this hour."
"That is Grandfather's doing," she said. "He is far too protective. I feel fine."
"Poisoned by grimleaf two days ago and you feel fine?" Gandalf raised one eyebrow and regarded her quizzically. "That is quite extraordinary."
She told him what had happened and of her miraculous recovery as she settled herself back into bed. Then for a long while she listened to tales of where he had been and whom he had seen. She asked eagerly after the hobbits and then finally asked, "What do you know of Dimnarion of Mirkwood?"
"The prince's body guard?" Gandalf thought for a moment. "He is a mystery to me, just as he is to the Elves of that realm. But, Elenath, if the Sword burns you when you speak of him or when he comes near, then you should be wary. Calmakil does not lie."
She sighed. "But neither can I shun someone who has been only kind to me these past few days. Dimnarion has been thoughtful and charming, even when I have not been."
"You are far too trusting," he said. "Far too trusting. Now…" he bent near to kiss her forehead. "I must have a word with Lord Elrond if it is well with you."
***
"Here!" exclaimed Elrond, "In my own realm – my own protected kingdom! An Elf poisoned my granddaughter – right here! Am I so powerless that evil may enter Rivendell unnoticed, Mithrandir*?"
The Wizard sighed and leaned on his staff. "Calm yourself, Elrond. I am quite sure that a good many things go unnoticed by you in Rivendell. You cannot be all-knowing."
"But surely I should have seen such an evil as this."
"The darkest evil is often difficult to detect. Even I sense nothing but the peaceful serenity of your realm. Yet your granddaughter is strangely agitated, and that cannot be ignored. She is the Sword bearer."
***
Dimnarion paced back and forth in his chambers. Who ever heard of an Elf getting sick? All of that poison – wasted. One thing was for sure, that bush would be dead by nightfall.
She was infuriating, that princess! She should be dead by now by the hand of the Orcs. At the very least she should be deathly ill! What was he doing wrong? Dimnarion sat down on his bed to think. And then he began to brew another cup of the deadly tea.
***
"Your Highness?"
Elenath sat up in bed to search for the source of the timid voice and found it in the Elf Raion who stood nervously in the doorway of her chambers. The Elf was young - only about two hundred years old – and was just beginning his training as a warrior. His bright eyes peered curiously but politely at her and a smile just barely tugged at the corners of his mouth. Lying back, she bade him come near. "Yes, Raion?"
"I bring a message from Dimnarion." He handed her a small scroll tied with twine, and she unrolled it.
1 My Lady ~
I pray that I have not offended you in any way, for my heart aches at the thought of being barred from your presence as you suggested this afternoon. Please accept my apologies for any foul deed or unrighteous act I have committed, Princess. Know that I am ever your servant and I had hoped to escort you to many more banquets. If that is not possible, will you at least permit me to share with you an occasional cup of tea? I have one at the ready for you now. You need only call.
~Dimnarion
She sighed, recalling how cruel she had been on the practice field that morning, telling him to get away from her. And what foul or unrighteous act had he committed? None! Still Gandalf had advised her well on many other matters. Why should this be any different?
"Have you a response for me, Your Highness?" asked Raion.
"Yes," she answered. "Tell him to come and we shall have tea." After all, what harm could come to her in the very house of her grandfather?
***
Something was not right here. Legolas could sense it in his innermost being. Elves did not fall ill as Elenath had that afternoon, poison or no poison. He fretted over this, his heart breaking at the thought of her suffering. "Whoever has done this," he said to himself, "will pay and pay dearly."
"You are worried about the princess."
Legolas leapt to his feet. "Lady Merethiel!"
"I am worried about her as well, Prince Legolas." She sighed. "What happened today I know not, yet it fills my heart with dread. Who would want to hurt her?"
He had no answer for her and only shook his head and looked away. "Whoever it is, mark my words, will wish he was never born."
"You care very deeply for her, don't you?" she asked him quietly.
"Alas, I cannot say, Lady. For I promised her I would not until the laurel blooms and I do not wish to displease you. You and I are to be married ere the end of autumn."
She gently slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "It would not displease me, my lord. In fact my heart would leap with joy to see the two of you happily wed."
*Mithrandir – Gandalf's Elvish name
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
16.
"Gandalf!" cried Elenath as she leapt out of bed and threw herself at the old Wizard in a joyful hug. He leaned on a gnarled staff and was robed in gray, his long hair and scraggly beard hanging down, it seemed, almost to his knees.
He chuckled to himself as he pulled her near. "My dear, I hope that you never become to old or too wise to greet your old godfather in such a way."
"Why are you here?" she asked, "Will you stay long?"
"Well," he replied, "I heard a rumor that the young princess of Rivendell was near death. Apparently those rumors were false, though it is strange to see you abed at this hour."
"That is Grandfather's doing," she said. "He is far too protective. I feel fine."
"Poisoned by grimleaf two days ago and you feel fine?" Gandalf raised one eyebrow and regarded her quizzically. "That is quite extraordinary."
She told him what had happened and of her miraculous recovery as she settled herself back into bed. Then for a long while she listened to tales of where he had been and whom he had seen. She asked eagerly after the hobbits and then finally asked, "What do you know of Dimnarion of Mirkwood?"
"The prince's body guard?" Gandalf thought for a moment. "He is a mystery to me, just as he is to the Elves of that realm. But, Elenath, if the Sword burns you when you speak of him or when he comes near, then you should be wary. Calmakil does not lie."
She sighed. "But neither can I shun someone who has been only kind to me these past few days. Dimnarion has been thoughtful and charming, even when I have not been."
"You are far too trusting," he said. "Far too trusting. Now…" he bent near to kiss her forehead. "I must have a word with Lord Elrond if it is well with you."
***
"Here!" exclaimed Elrond, "In my own realm – my own protected kingdom! An Elf poisoned my granddaughter – right here! Am I so powerless that evil may enter Rivendell unnoticed, Mithrandir*?"
The Wizard sighed and leaned on his staff. "Calm yourself, Elrond. I am quite sure that a good many things go unnoticed by you in Rivendell. You cannot be all-knowing."
"But surely I should have seen such an evil as this."
"The darkest evil is often difficult to detect. Even I sense nothing but the peaceful serenity of your realm. Yet your granddaughter is strangely agitated, and that cannot be ignored. She is the Sword bearer."
***
Dimnarion paced back and forth in his chambers. Who ever heard of an Elf getting sick? All of that poison – wasted. One thing was for sure, that bush would be dead by nightfall.
She was infuriating, that princess! She should be dead by now by the hand of the Orcs. At the very least she should be deathly ill! What was he doing wrong? Dimnarion sat down on his bed to think. And then he began to brew another cup of the deadly tea.
***
"Your Highness?"
Elenath sat up in bed to search for the source of the timid voice and found it in the Elf Raion who stood nervously in the doorway of her chambers. The Elf was young - only about two hundred years old – and was just beginning his training as a warrior. His bright eyes peered curiously but politely at her and a smile just barely tugged at the corners of his mouth. Lying back, she bade him come near. "Yes, Raion?"
"I bring a message from Dimnarion." He handed her a small scroll tied with twine, and she unrolled it.
1 My Lady ~
I pray that I have not offended you in any way, for my heart aches at the thought of being barred from your presence as you suggested this afternoon. Please accept my apologies for any foul deed or unrighteous act I have committed, Princess. Know that I am ever your servant and I had hoped to escort you to many more banquets. If that is not possible, will you at least permit me to share with you an occasional cup of tea? I have one at the ready for you now. You need only call.
~Dimnarion
She sighed, recalling how cruel she had been on the practice field that morning, telling him to get away from her. And what foul or unrighteous act had he committed? None! Still Gandalf had advised her well on many other matters. Why should this be any different?
"Have you a response for me, Your Highness?" asked Raion.
"Yes," she answered. "Tell him to come and we shall have tea." After all, what harm could come to her in the very house of her grandfather?
***
Something was not right here. Legolas could sense it in his innermost being. Elves did not fall ill as Elenath had that afternoon, poison or no poison. He fretted over this, his heart breaking at the thought of her suffering. "Whoever has done this," he said to himself, "will pay and pay dearly."
"You are worried about the princess."
Legolas leapt to his feet. "Lady Merethiel!"
"I am worried about her as well, Prince Legolas." She sighed. "What happened today I know not, yet it fills my heart with dread. Who would want to hurt her?"
He had no answer for her and only shook his head and looked away. "Whoever it is, mark my words, will wish he was never born."
"You care very deeply for her, don't you?" she asked him quietly.
"Alas, I cannot say, Lady. For I promised her I would not until the laurel blooms and I do not wish to displease you. You and I are to be married ere the end of autumn."
She gently slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "It would not displease me, my lord. In fact my heart would leap with joy to see the two of you happily wed."
*Mithrandir – Gandalf's Elvish name
