Disclaimer: The man who owns this world is dead, and would likely be
turning in his grave at my blatant massacre of his genius. I own Norelda,
and nothing else.
Posting: Why would you want to? But sure, if you, like. Just tell me.
Summary: Riiiiight.... Norelda and Arwen, fifty-odd years on.
A/N: Not sure where this is going... if you have any ideas, please tell
me. Reviews are good... warm and fuzzy. Heh. Keep 'em coming.
________________
Arwen glanced up disapprovingly as her cousin dropped out of the tree that Arwen was sitting under, landing silently, cat-like on all fours. The subject of her perusal looked up her and grinned.
Norelda straightened up to her full, unimposing height of almost a head shorter than Arwen. Her hair had grown back, longer than ever, in the fifty years since she had cut it off in a fit of childish rebellion. It now reached almost to her knees, tied back in a tight plait that swung as she moved. She glared down at the reddish rope of hair; it made scampering about in the trees dreadfully inconvenient, but Lord Elrond had told her that it was unseemly for a Lady to have short hair.
She always obeyed Lord Elrond, everyone in Imladris did. He was so bright and fascinating, with such an aura of command, it was impossible to gainsay him. Thank goodness he didn't mind her clothing. When he had seen her that first afternoon, he had only smiled and said that one must dress according to the situation. She had proceeded to do so, wearing whatever seemed appropriate at the time, which today, for tree-climbing, meant bare feet, old comfortable breeches, torn off raggedly at just below the knees, and an equally ragged and old tunic with no sleeves.
She looked at her perfectly composed playmate, sitting cool and elegant in the shade, and stepped backward into the brilliant sun with a delighted sigh.
"You'll get sunburnt," said Arwen, carefully selecting a different thread.
"No, I won't. You always tell me I'll get sunburnt, but I don't. I go brown." said Norelda cheerfully, flopping down to sit on the floor of the courtyard.
"Or freckle," jibed Arwen gently. "You do have a great deal of freckles." In truth, Norelda had only the barest spattering of freckles across her nose, but Elrond's children loved to tease her about it.
"No, they're all from when I was a child. I'm too dark to freckle now, or burn." And she stretched out her legs in front of her and wriggled her brown little toes at Arwen. "Whereas you, my milky-white cousin, turn a lovely shade of pink if you step out of the shade."
"I do not!" Arwen looked offended.
"Then come out into the sun! It's an absolutely beautiful day, and you're wasting sitting in the shade." Arwen hesitated. "Oh, come on. A bit of sun will do you good! Put some colour in your cheeks. You look a bit sickly. Sitting on the ground won't hurt you, either." Arwen rolled her eyes at this reference to the fastidiousness that had astonished Norelda when she first arrived, and floated smoothly over to where her cousin was sitting in the bright sunlight. She folded her legs under her and slid to the ground, gracefully, as she did everything.
Norelda grinned and lay down on her belly. Her shell, on a thin gold chain about her neck, swung gently back and forth. She waved her feet in the air.
"So, tomorrow we set off on our great journey. First Lorien, then Greenwood." said Norelda after a time.
"Yes," said Arwen, "I can't wait! I've never been outside Imladris. Is the rest of the world as lovely as this? I don't think there could be any place quite so beautiful, anywhere."
Norelda laughed, remembering thinking the same thing about Mithlond. "Even across the sea? I don't remember much of the journey here. It was dusty, then muddy, then wet. I was just glad to get here so I could get off that stinking horse." She smiled at the memory.
Arwen sighed, squinting up at the sky. "I've heard that Lothlorien is the most beautiful place this side of the Sea."
"Yes, and that the trees shower gold upon travellers, and they have a waterfall that sings. And the Lady of the Wood, our Grandmother, is the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Yes, Elrohir was saying that she lived in the Time Before." The Time Before, when there was no Sun or Moon, only Stars and the Two Trees, was a time of far off legend to them. The idea of meeting someone who had lived in that time, who had known and lived among the heroes of their stories, who was a part of their stories, was mind-boggling.
"And that she has seen the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and that that light shines in her face!"
"And she knew Feanor, and he was her father's brother." The familiar tales, well worn and well-known with much telling, flew from their lips, and they smiled and laughed. After a while, a silence fell, comfortably. They sat and lay, dark and bright, beautiful and lively, in the sun for a time.
"Arwen?"
"Yes, Norelda?"
"You do know why our fathers are sending us on this trip, don't you?"
"Yes. They want to broaden our horizons, give us a chance to see the world."
"I think they want us to meet King Thranduil's sons."
"You're such a cynic. Why can't our fathers do something nice for us, without having an ulterior motive?"
"I'm not a cynic, and I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, necessarily. I just think they want us to meet some nice Elf-Lords. If we fall in love and spend an eternity of bliss with them, that will simply be wonderful."
Arwen looked at her cousin with some amusement. "I think father would like you to wed Elledan or Elrohir."
"Don't be ridiculous. They are my cousins, and our mothers were twins. They are as close as brothers to me. Besides, how would I choose which to wed, as they are so alike it is impossible to tell them apart?"
"I suppose."
They sat in silence for a time, soaking up they summer sun. They had spent countless hours like this in the last fifty years, doing very little but sitting quietly and enjoying each others company. They would have very little time for such things during the upcoming months, as they would be travelling and meeting so many new people, and would have little time for relaxation.
After a time Arwen started to squirm. Unused to the hot sun, she was very fearful for her lovely skin, and wanted to move back into the shade of the tree. Norelda noted the squirming and stifled a grin. She knew that her cousin was too polite to say anything, and would sit until Norelda gave her an opening or an excuse to move. She lay quietly, enjoying her cousin's discomfort for a moment longer, then rolled onto her back with a sigh.
"Lets go in now, Arwen. I'm hungry."
Arwen leapt to her feet with what seemed to Norelda to be undue haste. Norelda lay a moment longer, stretching her tiny body until it arched off the ground. Arwen made a strangled noise, and she grinned. Opened her eyes to find her cousin looking down at her with a reproving smile on her face. She smiled back and jumped to her lithely to her feet.
"I wonder what your mother will say about your sunburn" she teased gently as they entered the house.
"Sunburn? I am not sunburned, am I?" Arwen was horrified.
"Of course not, you goose. You just have a little flush in your cheeks is all. It looks very pretty, actually, like you're blushing a little."
"Are you sure?"
Norelda looked sideways at her. "Do you honestly know how beautiful you are, Arwen?"
"You keep telling me so. I can't really see it when I look in the mirror."
"How can you not? You're gorgeous, just perfect."
Arwen looked at her playmate. "Really?"
"Yes, of course. You're utterly beautiful."
Arwen smiled then, a shy, gentle smile. "I'm certainly not as lovely as you, though."
Norelda turned to stare at her in astonishment. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm not beautiful."
Arwen looked at her curiously. "Of course you are."
"I'm not. I'm so plain."
"No! Perhaps not in your face, but you are lovely. The way you move, whether you're dancing or scampering about in the trees, the way your voice sounds when you're talking about the Sea... ours is a race that is leaving these shores, fading into the twilight, but you, you are so full of energy and life that I am often surprised you don't fly apart."
It was Norelda's turn to smile shyly. She had never really seen herself as beautiful. Growing up in the company of Arwen would make anyone feel less than beautiful, and she had given up any hope of equalling her cousin's beauty. Now Arwen was telling her that she was lovely and full of life. Her smile faded somewhat as she recalled how Celebrian had always disapproved of her restlessness and constant movement. She said it was unladylike.
As if reading her thought, Arwen said, "Don't mind Mother. She was raised in Lothlorien, where it's very quiet. She doesn't like things to move too quickly. It makes her head spin."
They both laughed, knowing how dignified the lady Celebrian was. She moved so slowly, gracefully, rarely troubling herself. The worst pranks that any of the children could pull would not so much as disturb a hair on her lovely blonde head, but her lectures afterwards would strip the skin off their backs and leave them as blubbering messes. It was not really wise to upset the lady Celebrian.
*************
Elrond stood silently, watching the maidens come in from the garden, listening to their cheerful chatter, their exchange of compliments. They were children, still., so young, still struggling to find themselves.
They made an amusing picture, the pair of them. His own daughter so tall and elegant, all grace and refinement, glossy hair and good manners. Cirdan's child so tiny and bright, all movement and fire, scruffy appearance and sharp mind. So different. Different, but the same.
They were the last. He knew this for certain. These two maidens, still such children, were the last elves that would ever be born on this side of the sea. So young, they were the last life of a race that was almost finished here. They were special, though exactly what part they would play he was not sure. They signified hope, certainly. Hope for all Middle- Earth.
They were so young.
A/N Wasn't that fun? And kind of pointless, I suppose. Next one will be better. My internet access has been recently curtailed severely, (ie parents put the password back on) so these updates will be sporadic at best. I will try to make them big updates.
Arwen glanced up disapprovingly as her cousin dropped out of the tree that Arwen was sitting under, landing silently, cat-like on all fours. The subject of her perusal looked up her and grinned.
Norelda straightened up to her full, unimposing height of almost a head shorter than Arwen. Her hair had grown back, longer than ever, in the fifty years since she had cut it off in a fit of childish rebellion. It now reached almost to her knees, tied back in a tight plait that swung as she moved. She glared down at the reddish rope of hair; it made scampering about in the trees dreadfully inconvenient, but Lord Elrond had told her that it was unseemly for a Lady to have short hair.
She always obeyed Lord Elrond, everyone in Imladris did. He was so bright and fascinating, with such an aura of command, it was impossible to gainsay him. Thank goodness he didn't mind her clothing. When he had seen her that first afternoon, he had only smiled and said that one must dress according to the situation. She had proceeded to do so, wearing whatever seemed appropriate at the time, which today, for tree-climbing, meant bare feet, old comfortable breeches, torn off raggedly at just below the knees, and an equally ragged and old tunic with no sleeves.
She looked at her perfectly composed playmate, sitting cool and elegant in the shade, and stepped backward into the brilliant sun with a delighted sigh.
"You'll get sunburnt," said Arwen, carefully selecting a different thread.
"No, I won't. You always tell me I'll get sunburnt, but I don't. I go brown." said Norelda cheerfully, flopping down to sit on the floor of the courtyard.
"Or freckle," jibed Arwen gently. "You do have a great deal of freckles." In truth, Norelda had only the barest spattering of freckles across her nose, but Elrond's children loved to tease her about it.
"No, they're all from when I was a child. I'm too dark to freckle now, or burn." And she stretched out her legs in front of her and wriggled her brown little toes at Arwen. "Whereas you, my milky-white cousin, turn a lovely shade of pink if you step out of the shade."
"I do not!" Arwen looked offended.
"Then come out into the sun! It's an absolutely beautiful day, and you're wasting sitting in the shade." Arwen hesitated. "Oh, come on. A bit of sun will do you good! Put some colour in your cheeks. You look a bit sickly. Sitting on the ground won't hurt you, either." Arwen rolled her eyes at this reference to the fastidiousness that had astonished Norelda when she first arrived, and floated smoothly over to where her cousin was sitting in the bright sunlight. She folded her legs under her and slid to the ground, gracefully, as she did everything.
Norelda grinned and lay down on her belly. Her shell, on a thin gold chain about her neck, swung gently back and forth. She waved her feet in the air.
"So, tomorrow we set off on our great journey. First Lorien, then Greenwood." said Norelda after a time.
"Yes," said Arwen, "I can't wait! I've never been outside Imladris. Is the rest of the world as lovely as this? I don't think there could be any place quite so beautiful, anywhere."
Norelda laughed, remembering thinking the same thing about Mithlond. "Even across the sea? I don't remember much of the journey here. It was dusty, then muddy, then wet. I was just glad to get here so I could get off that stinking horse." She smiled at the memory.
Arwen sighed, squinting up at the sky. "I've heard that Lothlorien is the most beautiful place this side of the Sea."
"Yes, and that the trees shower gold upon travellers, and they have a waterfall that sings. And the Lady of the Wood, our Grandmother, is the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Yes, Elrohir was saying that she lived in the Time Before." The Time Before, when there was no Sun or Moon, only Stars and the Two Trees, was a time of far off legend to them. The idea of meeting someone who had lived in that time, who had known and lived among the heroes of their stories, who was a part of their stories, was mind-boggling.
"And that she has seen the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and that that light shines in her face!"
"And she knew Feanor, and he was her father's brother." The familiar tales, well worn and well-known with much telling, flew from their lips, and they smiled and laughed. After a while, a silence fell, comfortably. They sat and lay, dark and bright, beautiful and lively, in the sun for a time.
"Arwen?"
"Yes, Norelda?"
"You do know why our fathers are sending us on this trip, don't you?"
"Yes. They want to broaden our horizons, give us a chance to see the world."
"I think they want us to meet King Thranduil's sons."
"You're such a cynic. Why can't our fathers do something nice for us, without having an ulterior motive?"
"I'm not a cynic, and I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, necessarily. I just think they want us to meet some nice Elf-Lords. If we fall in love and spend an eternity of bliss with them, that will simply be wonderful."
Arwen looked at her cousin with some amusement. "I think father would like you to wed Elledan or Elrohir."
"Don't be ridiculous. They are my cousins, and our mothers were twins. They are as close as brothers to me. Besides, how would I choose which to wed, as they are so alike it is impossible to tell them apart?"
"I suppose."
They sat in silence for a time, soaking up they summer sun. They had spent countless hours like this in the last fifty years, doing very little but sitting quietly and enjoying each others company. They would have very little time for such things during the upcoming months, as they would be travelling and meeting so many new people, and would have little time for relaxation.
After a time Arwen started to squirm. Unused to the hot sun, she was very fearful for her lovely skin, and wanted to move back into the shade of the tree. Norelda noted the squirming and stifled a grin. She knew that her cousin was too polite to say anything, and would sit until Norelda gave her an opening or an excuse to move. She lay quietly, enjoying her cousin's discomfort for a moment longer, then rolled onto her back with a sigh.
"Lets go in now, Arwen. I'm hungry."
Arwen leapt to her feet with what seemed to Norelda to be undue haste. Norelda lay a moment longer, stretching her tiny body until it arched off the ground. Arwen made a strangled noise, and she grinned. Opened her eyes to find her cousin looking down at her with a reproving smile on her face. She smiled back and jumped to her lithely to her feet.
"I wonder what your mother will say about your sunburn" she teased gently as they entered the house.
"Sunburn? I am not sunburned, am I?" Arwen was horrified.
"Of course not, you goose. You just have a little flush in your cheeks is all. It looks very pretty, actually, like you're blushing a little."
"Are you sure?"
Norelda looked sideways at her. "Do you honestly know how beautiful you are, Arwen?"
"You keep telling me so. I can't really see it when I look in the mirror."
"How can you not? You're gorgeous, just perfect."
Arwen looked at her playmate. "Really?"
"Yes, of course. You're utterly beautiful."
Arwen smiled then, a shy, gentle smile. "I'm certainly not as lovely as you, though."
Norelda turned to stare at her in astonishment. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm not beautiful."
Arwen looked at her curiously. "Of course you are."
"I'm not. I'm so plain."
"No! Perhaps not in your face, but you are lovely. The way you move, whether you're dancing or scampering about in the trees, the way your voice sounds when you're talking about the Sea... ours is a race that is leaving these shores, fading into the twilight, but you, you are so full of energy and life that I am often surprised you don't fly apart."
It was Norelda's turn to smile shyly. She had never really seen herself as beautiful. Growing up in the company of Arwen would make anyone feel less than beautiful, and she had given up any hope of equalling her cousin's beauty. Now Arwen was telling her that she was lovely and full of life. Her smile faded somewhat as she recalled how Celebrian had always disapproved of her restlessness and constant movement. She said it was unladylike.
As if reading her thought, Arwen said, "Don't mind Mother. She was raised in Lothlorien, where it's very quiet. She doesn't like things to move too quickly. It makes her head spin."
They both laughed, knowing how dignified the lady Celebrian was. She moved so slowly, gracefully, rarely troubling herself. The worst pranks that any of the children could pull would not so much as disturb a hair on her lovely blonde head, but her lectures afterwards would strip the skin off their backs and leave them as blubbering messes. It was not really wise to upset the lady Celebrian.
*************
Elrond stood silently, watching the maidens come in from the garden, listening to their cheerful chatter, their exchange of compliments. They were children, still., so young, still struggling to find themselves.
They made an amusing picture, the pair of them. His own daughter so tall and elegant, all grace and refinement, glossy hair and good manners. Cirdan's child so tiny and bright, all movement and fire, scruffy appearance and sharp mind. So different. Different, but the same.
They were the last. He knew this for certain. These two maidens, still such children, were the last elves that would ever be born on this side of the sea. So young, they were the last life of a race that was almost finished here. They were special, though exactly what part they would play he was not sure. They signified hope, certainly. Hope for all Middle- Earth.
They were so young.
A/N Wasn't that fun? And kind of pointless, I suppose. Next one will be better. My internet access has been recently curtailed severely, (ie parents put the password back on) so these updates will be sporadic at best. I will try to make them big updates.