~*~Author's Note~*~
Yes. I am aware that Amothaea is not a real tributary of the Anduin. For
the sake of this story, PLEASE imagine that it is. * bows * Thankies.
Enjoy.
"Meet me at the Amothaea" was a common enough phrase in Lothlorien. Amothaea, a tiny tributary of the mighty Anduin, was a meeting place as well as a navigational point within the Golden Wood. Many of the elves of Lothlorien could recognize the mouth of the tiny tributary easily enough, and had met there once or twice with friends or companions. This, however, was not Amrodiel's purpose down at the river today. With quiet grace, she set off alongside the Amothaea, her feet bare, so as to better enjoy the soft forest carpet below her. Amrodiel walked for about five minutes to a near forgotten place along the tributary-a small cliff that went down roughly 7 feet. She sat down upon the cliff, and carefully swung herself over the side. She landed gracefully on a large patch of moss, cool and comfortable beneath her feet. Her pale green eyes smiled wryly, filled with pride at making the jump so easily. Amrodiel looked over at the Amothaea, which passed over the small cliff, tumbling down about two feet wide, and continuing on its way through the winding forest. Her smile softening slightly, she stepped off the patch of moss, and walked roughly two meters to a large, smooth stone that jutted out over the Amothaea. There, she took off her garments of sky-blue, leaving her creamy skin exposed to the bright, warm sun. She stepped into the Amothaea, the water coming up to mid- shin. The water was cool and refreshing against her skin. She shivered with pleasure as she took a few steps forward, and stopped as she came under the falling water. It tapped against her with a gentle pressure, as she tingled at the sensation. Her long, fair hair grew wet and began to stick to the back of her neck, curving inwards at the nape. What Amrodiel wasn't aware of was the pair of dark eyes that watched her silently as she danced gingerly in and out of the water's spray. These eyes were not prying, nor piercing. They were intense, focused, and soft at the same time. They carefully observed the gentle curve of Amrodiel's hips, her delicate cheekbones, toned torso, and lithe figure. Blissfully unaware, Amrodiel stepped out of the water, and back on to the stone, her back to the watching eyes. She sat down upon the stone, absorbing the pleasant rays of the sun, all while the dark eyes silently observed. It remained this way for near ten minutes, as the water on Amrodiel condensed into tiny diamond droplets, and her hair dried into thick, gold bands of spun gold, and the dark eyes. The dark eyes continued to watch, motionless, unseen. Amrodiel then stood up, stretching her arms up to the welcome sun. The dark eyes followed her arms journey, carefully watching the soft bend in her elbows, and the gentle way that her neck curved back. She then reached down, picking up her clothes and dressing herself in a relaxed and unhurried manner. Once fully garbed, she looked around nonchalantly, expecting nothing-which she found. The eyes had disappeared. Content, and pleased, Amrodiel climbled up the cliff once more, and walked back to Lothlorien, enjoying the gentle feeling of the forest floor upon her bare feet.
"Meet me at the Amothaea" was a common enough phrase in Lothlorien. Amothaea, a tiny tributary of the mighty Anduin, was a meeting place as well as a navigational point within the Golden Wood. Many of the elves of Lothlorien could recognize the mouth of the tiny tributary easily enough, and had met there once or twice with friends or companions. This, however, was not Amrodiel's purpose down at the river today. With quiet grace, she set off alongside the Amothaea, her feet bare, so as to better enjoy the soft forest carpet below her. Amrodiel walked for about five minutes to a near forgotten place along the tributary-a small cliff that went down roughly 7 feet. She sat down upon the cliff, and carefully swung herself over the side. She landed gracefully on a large patch of moss, cool and comfortable beneath her feet. Her pale green eyes smiled wryly, filled with pride at making the jump so easily. Amrodiel looked over at the Amothaea, which passed over the small cliff, tumbling down about two feet wide, and continuing on its way through the winding forest. Her smile softening slightly, she stepped off the patch of moss, and walked roughly two meters to a large, smooth stone that jutted out over the Amothaea. There, she took off her garments of sky-blue, leaving her creamy skin exposed to the bright, warm sun. She stepped into the Amothaea, the water coming up to mid- shin. The water was cool and refreshing against her skin. She shivered with pleasure as she took a few steps forward, and stopped as she came under the falling water. It tapped against her with a gentle pressure, as she tingled at the sensation. Her long, fair hair grew wet and began to stick to the back of her neck, curving inwards at the nape. What Amrodiel wasn't aware of was the pair of dark eyes that watched her silently as she danced gingerly in and out of the water's spray. These eyes were not prying, nor piercing. They were intense, focused, and soft at the same time. They carefully observed the gentle curve of Amrodiel's hips, her delicate cheekbones, toned torso, and lithe figure. Blissfully unaware, Amrodiel stepped out of the water, and back on to the stone, her back to the watching eyes. She sat down upon the stone, absorbing the pleasant rays of the sun, all while the dark eyes silently observed. It remained this way for near ten minutes, as the water on Amrodiel condensed into tiny diamond droplets, and her hair dried into thick, gold bands of spun gold, and the dark eyes. The dark eyes continued to watch, motionless, unseen. Amrodiel then stood up, stretching her arms up to the welcome sun. The dark eyes followed her arms journey, carefully watching the soft bend in her elbows, and the gentle way that her neck curved back. She then reached down, picking up her clothes and dressing herself in a relaxed and unhurried manner. Once fully garbed, she looked around nonchalantly, expecting nothing-which she found. The eyes had disappeared. Content, and pleased, Amrodiel climbled up the cliff once more, and walked back to Lothlorien, enjoying the gentle feeling of the forest floor upon her bare feet.