Chapter Six
The riders kept their course along the Loudwater River till they reached the ford. At the Ford of Bruinen, they followed the road and at length, came to the high moor. It was here that Callysta caught her first glimpse of The Last Homely House East of the Sea. It was built by Elrond as a retreat for the Elves and for those whose hearts are filled with weariness, sadness and fear.
Slowly, the riders descended the long steep paths that led into the cloven vale of Rivendell. Once they crossed the bridge, they were met by a few Elves who were on guard duty. They have arrived at last.
Elrond greeted them in his fair hall. And so, that was how Callysta met the great Halfelven Lord of Rivendell. Her first impression of him was that the face of Elrond was unmarred by age, neither old nor young. In it was written the memory of many events both joyous and sorrowful. His hair was as dark as night and upon his head sat a circlet of white silver.
"Aaye ar mae govannen! Hail and well met!" Elrond said to Legolas and Figwit. To the Dwarf, he said, "Hail, son of Gloín!"
The three bowed before the Lord. Unsure of any Elvish protocol, Callysta did a little curtsey before him.
"Good day, m'lord." Callysta greeted him, solemnly and he nodded his head in acknowledgement.
Then, she told him the tale of how she came to be in Rivendell. It was the same one she gave Figwit, Legolas and Gimli. Although she did not falter in her story, her heart was uneasy. She felt that Elrond was far too wise to fall for her story but if he had guessed, he did not show it and he accepted her tale without much questioning.
"That was a valiant deed you did unto Figwit, Callysta. Perhaps you have come to us in our hour of need. But let our hearts be glad whilst the Light still shines. Cast your worries aside and rest well for the next few days." Elrond bade her.
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Callysta scooped up a handful of suds and blew it. Tiny bubbles floated across the tub. All around her, chambermaids busied themselves. Some were pouring rose-scented water into the tub while others cleaned the filth from her hands and feet.
I could get used to this, Callysta sighed to herself. She leaned back on the tub and closed her eyes. The pain from the Orc-arrow was fast diminishing, thanks to the gentle Elvish art of healing and Elrond's herblore.
When she was ready, they clothed her in a pale pink dress that fell down to her shapely ankles. It was made of the soft silk and lace wove by Arwen Undomiel herself. They braided her hair and put nephredil blossoms in her golden locks. When Callysta gazed at her features on the mirror, there were hardly any traces of the old Callysta left.
The wonders of an Elvish makeover, she smiled.
Callysta found Figwit and Legolas deep in conversation at the great balcony overlooking the deep green ravines of Imladris. As she approached them, her nose caught the sweet scent of nephredils that was borne upon the cool afternoon breeze. The scent reminded her of a story her mother had told her once when she was a girl-child.
In the story, the heroine of the story was a young poor girl. Coincidentally, she was also a thief like Callysta. In her village, there was a rich family with a beautiful daughter. One day, while she crept into the rich man's house to steal some bread, the daughter caught her. When she looked up, she was surprised to see that both of them were mirror images of one another. Desiring adventure and mischief, the rich girl suggested that they trade places and the poor girl agreed. While she was pretending to be the rich girl, the poor girl fell in love with the young man the rich girl was supposed to marry and he was in love with her too. The poor girl was troubled because he knew not her true identity. What was to become of them, Callysta had no idea because her mother never finished the story. The poor girl's name was Roselips, the crude name for nephredil and now, the smell of the flower made her wonder if she would suffer the same fate as Roselips.
When the two Elves turned around to meet her, Callysta could see the glimmer of appreciation sparkling in Figwit's eyes but Legolas was silent, brooding as usual.
"He maa sai vanima, arwenamin You look very beautiful, milady. What have they done to you? You are a vision of loveliness and grace." Figwit praised her.
Callysta blushed to the tip of her toes.
"You look good…and clean." Legolas said, and with that, he excused himself. Callysta stared after him in disbelief. What was his problem exactly? Callysta fumed in her heart, I don't give a bloody care what he thinks of me!
Even Figwit noticed his curtness and how Callysta was stung by it. He tried to distract her, "Legolas has many troubles in his heart but let's not worry about that now. Come, what would you say if I volunteer to be your guide for the afternoon around Rivendell?"
Callysta nodded and allowed Figwit to lead her away but her heart was troubled nevertheless.
Figwit showed her many fair sights around Rivendell. And of course, she met many Elves. Some were stern and grim while others were playful and child-like. Callysta regarded both with unconcealed awe. For a while, they walked on a greensward among the white stems of birches and paused at the Bridge where Arwen and Aragorn had exchanged their vows. Callysta could not help but wished that Legolas was by her side instead of Figwit.
As they walked further on upon the bright meadow at the edge of the Woods, Callysta espied at wooded path leading out of the vale. She asked Figwit about it.
"That path is unused for most parts now but it leads out to Nan Caranfíon. Redwine Valley in your tongue." Figwit told her.
She knew where Redwine Valley was. The valley earned its name by its reputation for distilling the best red wine in that part of Middle-Earth. She remembered a time when she used to visit the villagers and how kind they were to her. They welcomed her as one of them, despite of the dark fate that had fallen in her path. In fact, she was born in Redwine Valley but that was a long time ago… All these, she could not tell Figwit.
That night, Elrond bade her to have dinner with them. Callysta chose a turquoise blue gown, which serves to accentuate her eyes, for the dinner. The hall of Elrond's house was filled with folks that night. Elves for the most part, though there are a few other guests of Men and Dwarves. Food and wine was aplenty. Indeed, it was a great feast but at length, the feast came to an end and it was time for speeches.
Figwit stood up to make his. His eyes were bright and a smile played upon his lips. He told the guests how Callysta had risked her life to save his and he toasted to her good health. Callysta was blushing tomato-red at the end of his speech for she was not used to being showered with compliments. She drank to the toast and was glad but nothing prepared her for what Figwit has to say after that.
"I have found her to be the most amazing mortal woman I have ever met. And so, by the leave of my sister-father, Lord Elrond, I would like to ask the hand of Lady Callysta in marriage." Figwit announced to the table. A wave of excited murmur spread around the table. Elrond frowned at the announcement but said nothing.
Callysta almost choked on her wine. In a fit of violent cough, she expelled the wine in a jet of spray. Poor Legolas, who was seated opposite her, found himself as the unsuspecting target. Callysta was dumbstruck, as all eyes fell upon her.
"The Lady does not have to give her reply now but I bid her to think of my proposal." Figwit told her and Callysta breathed a sigh of relief. Later, he said to her that he would send word to Galathor for the consent of Lord Galathor if she wished to accept his proposal.
Callysta excused herself from the merry-making after the feast. She took herself outside to the marble terrace, breathing in the cool air to clear the fog of confusion in her head. Her logical side told her to confess everything to Lord Elrond and receive her punishment. Her heart told her to wait. In truth, she was reluctant to end this fairytale.
Be patient. Perhaps tomorrow may bring new counsel, she told herself. That was when she saw a small light, flickering faintly ahead of her. Intrigued, she walked towards it.