Reeeepppoooosssstttt!!!!!
Sorry, just expressing some of my unadulterated joy at finally ridding myself of that error that plagued my otherwise happy troupe of readers. I'm just not gonna bother mentioning her parentage - just ignore them cos that's what I do with mine and it works pretty well most of the time.
Also to the person that emailed me (who shall remain nameless), I have watched the film and read the relevant portions of book 1 and in fact not all of the Nazgul were accounted for. Arwen says (and I quote) "I have been looking for you for two days. There are five wraiths behind you, where the other four are, I do not know…" Therefore I (ahem!!) didn't just invent Nazgul for the purpose of my story…
As he walked briskly through the terrace, toward Nephryn's room Legolas heard the soft flutter of female voices. He stopped and looked of the ornately carved railing to the garden below. There he saw Arwen Evenstar and Nephryn walking arm in arm. They moved at a slow pace and he could see that Nephryn still leaned heavily on her companion. From a distance, it was as though the two were kin, so similar in appearance were they. Nephryn stood slightly taller and slighter than Arwen, and her long raven tresses were tied back, but both had porcelain skin that glowed like the morning dew. Their bright eyes reflected acute perception and sharp intelligence. When they smiled, it affected their entire countenance.
"So it is true that two of the fairest beings in all of Middle Earth do dwell here in Rivendell." As he spoke, both elves looked up, startled.
"Legolas!" Arwen beckoned to him. Quickly, he joined them, as ghost of a smile on his lips. As he approached, he noticed that Nephryn had changed from the loose-knit white tunic into a gown. The garment hung lightly against her frame, and though she was slender by nature, he thought her too gaunt, the product he knew, of her long captivity. But the exquisite sea green colour of the gown lifted her pale complexion, and mirrored brilliant emerald eyes. He noticed too the fine bones of her neck and shoulders now so flattered by the clean lines of the garment.
So captivated was he by this change, that he did not realise that he had been silent for too long until Arwen coughed lightly. Legolas smiled, as he shook off the spell that fell over him. He felt a slight flush creep up his face as he felt Nephryn's shy eyes smiling on him.
"I bring news. The Lord Celeborn has arrived from Lothlorién. He confers with Elrond now." Legolas watched as Nephryn's expression lifted from a demure smile to a full grin. He was glad to be the bearer of her first piece of real good news.
"I would like to speak with him if it pleases the Lord Elrond." The elf-maids pleading eyes made it very difficult for Legolas to refuse her. He did not know whether Celeborn had yet been informed of her presence. It would not be Legolas's place to announce her. As though sensing his dilemma, Arwen intervened.
"I shall go and inform my father that you shall be along to speak with the Lord Celeborn presently. I am sure Legolas would be pleased to escort you to my fathers study."
Legolas nodded, gratitude shining brightly in his face. Arwen departed quickly, leaving the elves to walk at a more leisurely pace. The elf-prince offered his arm and Nephryn took it graciously. As they walked, Legolas could feel the bones of her arms protrude through her dress. His heart ached to think of the horrors she had endured. She stood here beside him, so weak and frail, surely a shadow of her former self, yet she was determined to walk with her head high and proud. He admired the courage necessary to be able to do that.
"You are silent Prince Legolas. Are you well?" Nephryn's mellifluous voice broke into the guarded silence. He smiled down at her. He reached across, taking her hand in his.
"I am very glad to see you improve so quickly. And courage and dignity with which you bear your injuries has left me in your awe. When I first brought you here, I feared that I was too late and though I knew you not, I felt a profound sadness at the prospect of your passing."
Nephryn smiled at this. She placed her hand over his and they walked like that for several minutes.
"I have lived most of my life under the protective wing of the Galadhrim, and before Sauron stole me away, I had no concept of fear or darkness or pain. Those feelings have been deeply instilled in me these last months and I feared that they had taken a part of me that I would never recover. I did not feel whole, as though a part of my soul lay wasted and trampled at Isengard."
As she spoke, she remembered the suffocating terror that threatened to drown her day after day, and a dark shadow came over her face. Legolas stopped walking and turned to face her, willing her to cast aside the fear she had born so bravely. Much to his relief, when she gazed up at him, he saw a renewed flash of hope slice through her revisited terror.
"But you came and you banished the Úlairi who pursued me, and when you brought me here, you purged the fears I thought would live with me forever. You have made me whole again. For all this, I am eternally in your debt."
He traced a slim finger along her cheek, smoothing over a small graze, much as he had done when he first encountered her. He felt no less trepidation now than he felt then, and he found himself wanting to protect her all the time.
"You owe me nothing, for I believe the light of your presence shall brighten even my darkest days. You have already given so much, and you ask for nothing in return. Know that from now, I pledge my life that you will be safe always."
They said no more then for there was no more to be said. They continued on their way, basking in the warm glow of each other's presence.
Aragorn stood on the terrace, overlooking the garden. He had come to send Nephryn to speak with Elrond but he could see that an interruption would be most unwelcome. As he watched the pair, moving gracefully as one, he recognised the flame that burned brightly between them. A fire would burn soon from that small flame, and no amount of water would quench it. Such was the nature of love among elves. Aragorn knew, for though he was mortal, long had his heart belonged to Evenstar. Though his body was corporeal, the depth of his love burned so strong that it would blaze well beyond his lifetime.
Though the news of the One Ring would no doubt wear heavy on his mind in the following days, Lord Celeborn of Lothlorién felt as though a great melancholy had been lifted from his heart. It seemed as only yesterday it had been when beloved Nephryn had disappeared from the woods beyond the boundaries of the Golden Wood. When it was realised that she had been pursued and captured by Orcs, a great grief befell the Lady Galadriél and by extension, the entire kingdom. She had mourned the loss greatly, together with Arwen and Nephryn's parents. She had spoken often of the elf's great gift for weaving enchantments and bending the physical realities to her will. Though she was not her flesh and blood, Galadriél had mentored and taught the elf from a very young age. And while the Lady had never voiced her intentions to him, Celeborn had long believed that his wife was training the elf to succeed as protector of Lothlorién when Galadriél herself passed onto the Undying Lands.
And now, Lord of Rivendell, Elrond stood before him, informing him in a calm and measured voice, that only one day before, an elf-maid was rescued and brought to Rivendell, where she was revealed as the long lost Nephryn. The temptation to cry out in joy was tempered only by the knowledge that, while she might live, it was possible that all of Middle Earth would be in grave danger in the coming days and months.
He walked over to, unwilling to force her to have to take another step. To Celeborn, it seemed that if she did not lean against the elf-prince, she would not remain upright. He stood in front of her; not wishing to crowd her for he did not know how she would react after such a prolonged absence.
Nephryn seemed lost, as she stared at the elf-lord who had been the paternal figure for most of her adult life. He and the Lady Galadriél represented all the safety and warmth and comfort she had been deprived of by Saruman and Sauron. She bowed her head, in respect. Then raising her eyes to his, the warmth and care reflected in them was all the invitation she needed. She half-threw, half-fell into his embrace.
Legolas watched, amazed at the transformation in Celeborn: gone was the solemn, enigmatic leader of a great kingdom. He was replaced by a gentle elf that shed quiet tears, as though his lost daughter were returned to him. Legolas saw, with some small measure of envy, how blindly and utterly she trusted Celeborn, and he longed for the day when she would trust him in that way.
"Truly, Elbereth has seen fit to allay our burden of loss." Celeborn murmured as her held Nephryn gently.
Nephryn cried softly at the words, as though the reality of her safety had only begun to register. For a long time, they simply stood there, in an embrace. Then as Celeborn felt the strength go out of the young elf-maid's body, he led her over to a long daybed, where she sat wearily.
"If the Lady Galadriél were to die tomorrow, she would do so happier that you are alive today. She has felt your absence keenly and mourned your loss every day. As have I, as have we all." Nephryn managed a tiny smile through her tears at this.
"Every day of my seeming endless capture, yearned for the day when she would bestow upon me her light again. That hope sustained me through the darkest night and the deepest pain." Nephryn grasped Celeborn's hand lightly and smiled at him.
"I owe my life to the bravery and valour of Legolas, son of Thranduil, for I would surely be dead at the hands of the Úlairi was it not for his swift actions." She looked at Legolas and for a time, it simply beyond her capability to tear her gaze from his.
Celeborn stood, then and bowed deeply to the elf-prince. Legolas flushed at this, unsure how to react.
"The Lady and myself, the Galadhrim, indeed the entire elven populace is in your debt."
Legolas bowed his head in response.
"The honour was entirely mine. I was glad to help, as I am glad to continue to help." Though Legolas spoke to Celeborn, he could tear neither his eyes nor his mind from Nephryn. As she sat there before him, it seemed to both elves, that the world around merely faded away leaving only them and the flickering flame that burned between them.
Suddenly, Nephryn seemed to sway slightly in her seat. All three elves were before her as soon as she seemed to weaken.
Elrond held a hand to her forehead and examined her eyes before pronouncing that the young elf-maid was simply exhausted, and that she needed lengthy and uninterrupted rest. Legolas offered to take her back to her room. Before leaving she and Celeborn embraced once more, the elf-lord promising to send a message onto to the Lady Galadriél immediately.
Then Legolas leaned in and picked the slight elf from the daybed and left.
As he carried Nephryn through the maze of hallways, Legolas could feel her steady breath against his throat. Though she had looped her arms around his neck to better support herself, he could tell that even the few hours of activity had weakened her. She had no strength to hold her head up, so her forehead leaned against his neck. He could feel even through the layers of the gown, her ribs and spine protruding sharply, so much so that he frowned.
"What is the matter?" Nephryn's voice sounded drowsy and detached.
"You need proper nourishment. You will need to improve your strength before you return to Lothlorién." He spoke to her truthfully because she would know if he was being untruthful. He did not know how he knew this, only that he was quite sure that it was indeed the case.
She did not respond to his words, not because she did not know how but because she was too weakened to care about anything beyond the next moment. Nephryn felt safe and warm in Legolas's arms, and she was unwilling to leave.
When they finally entered her room, he brought her to the bed.
"Please don't leave."
The plea was so quietly whispered that Legolas did not hear her, but Nephryn was so enervated that she could not repeat it. She could not even lift her head to catch his gaze. So when Legolas made to set her down, she simply poured what little strength she had left into keeping hold around his neck. His understanding was instantaneous. He kissed her temple gently, and laid her down before sitting down on the bed next to her.
As before Legolas lay on the bed, Nephryn cradled in his arms her head resting in the crook of his neck. Though she did not sleep straight away, as he had expected. He knew that she was awake because her shaking fingers traced the tiny embroidery on his grey tunic. She had barely the strength to keep breathing, so why now would she not sleep?
"Nephryn, why do you not sleep?" Legolas heard her draw slow breaths, as though she felt she had been found out.
"Will you leave me?" Understanding came quickly then.
"Sleep now, I will stay until you wake, and thereafter until you ask me to leave. Fear not, for I shall not desert you."
Within minutes, her nervous fingers stilled and her breathing slowed. After an hour, he moved her off his chest and onto the bed where he knew she would be more comfortable. As he moved her, Nephryn's arms unconsciously sought out the body that had kept her so safe and warm, and so when she was lying down, he lay next to her, cradling her head gently.
As the dark night finally fell, Nephryn slept peacefully in Legolas's secure embrace. She had sought and had found the solace that had so long eluded her.
The kingdom of Rivendell awoke the following day to the glorious autumnal sunshine, which sprinkled its rays through patchwork cloud that rose leagues into the sky. The golden beams mingled with the rustic carpet of shedding foliage, leaving the secluded realm awash in tones of bullion gold and rich burgundy. Such was the splendour to which the inhabitants woke.
Lord Elrond sat on his balcony, basking in the warm morning glow. So peaceful was his beloved kingdom that if was difficult to imagine anything but the serene calm milieu, and he mentally shied away from the prospect of anything that would threaten this place. But as much as his mind would like to bury itself it the rustic glory, experience and long acquired wisdom told him, that to do so would surely spell doom for Rivendell, and might very well cast the rest of Middle Earth to the same fate.
Today the last of what was to be the Council of Elrond were to arrive. The Men from Minas Tirith were to arrive, lead by Boromir, eldest son of Denethor, and steward of Gondor. Though Boromir would willingly partake in the forum, it was another matter, which had first caused Boromir to seek Elrond's counsel. Elrond only knew that the young steward sought guidance regarding a recurring and troubling dream. The Elf-lord knew not of the detail of this vision, only that I had troubled the man sufficiently that he was willing to make the laborious journey to resolve the matter.
Due to arrive today also was a company of dwarves. Included in their number was Gimli, son of the infamous Glóin of Erebor. Altogether, the council would represent as many as possible of the free peoples of Middle Earth; Lothlorién, Mirkwood, Khazad-dûm, Gondor, the Shire, Isengard and of course Rivendell. The Rohirrim had been invited to join the council, but they had declined. Elrond wondered slightly at his own wisdom in bringing together dwarves and elves, and bringing the reigning steward of Gondor into such close contact with the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor. While such a mix of representatives could well cause fractious conflict, so important was the issue of the One Ring that it would be foolish to exclude any for whom it would have grave consequences.
Deciding that the time for silent pondering was done, Elrond rose and left for the dining room. As he made his way there, though it was early, already there was a bustle in preparation for the arrival of guests, some of whom Rivendell had never met before. He entered the ornately decorated hall to find Aragorn, his two sons and his daughter already eating. Though they buzzed in conversation, Elrond could tell that the underlying mood was sombre, for all present knew the weight of the situation at hand.
As soon as they became aware of his presence, his sons and Aragorn stood respectfully, in keeping with long tradition. Elrond smiled at them and waved them back to their seats.
"My lord, I trust you rested well?" Aragorn spoke formally, knowing well that ever since the whereabouts of the One Ring had come to light, Elrond did not truly rest, for he was keeping vigil for any furtive attack Sauron would launch.
"Alas, I shall rest easier when the dark threat has been banished once and for all, as it should have been at Dagorlad." Aragorn nodded mutely, for he too felt a burden of responsibility. Aragorn was the last of the descendants of the High-King Isildur, whose own weakness had caused the ring of doom to be lost instead of destroyed.
For a long moment, a gloom seemed to descend over the table, but for an interjection by Arwen.
"Father, let you cast aside your worries momentarily so that you may enjoy the hearty meal that has been prepared for you."
Elrond nodded, smiling at this. Clearly, Arwen did not wish to speak of the dark subject further. She was no fool, she like her brothers and her lover, understood the power and wrath of Sauron. But neither would she exist in fear. It was not her way, nor was it the way of any of the peoples participating in this summit. Elrond knew that it all would readily agree to fight for freedom, than cower and await the dark terror.
But bravery did not allay fear; it only set it aside for another time it.
The breakfast proceeded with small talk. Elladan and Elrohir spoke of preparing to rendezvous with their arriving guests on the outskirts, while Aragorn spoke of summoning some of Northern Rangers to aid in hunting down any of the remaining Nazgûl.
In the end, it was agreed that Arwen would accompany Aragorn and his fellow rangers to meet the company of dwarves, who were coming from the south, the caves of Moriá. Elladan and Elrohir would proceed and rendezvous with those to arrive from the east from Gondor.
Three hours later, when the morning sun had risen to its highest, Elrond's sons returned with a company of a dozen men of Gondor. As soon as all of the group had gathered, one man, tall by standards of men jumped down from his horse. Elrond had never met Boromir, but it seemed that Boromir knew enough of Elrond to recognise him immediately.
Boromir steward of Gondor, walked up to the Elf-lord and bowed respectfully before him. Elrond allowed himself a small smile. Though he had seen and experienced the sometimes brash and arrogant ways of men, this man seemed to understand that there was no need for such a strident attitude. In his long lifetime, Elrond had only seen such understand in one other, and that was Aragorn, whom Elrond had raised as his own son.
"It is my honour and great privilege to finally meet you. Long have the people of Gondor remembered yours and Gilgalad's exemplary courage at Dagorlad." Boromir held out his hand in greeting, as it was the custom of men. Elrond shook the man's large hand with his own.
"Come! You and your company must tire from your arduous journey. A meal has been prepared and we have arranged for accommodation for all your men." Elrond lead the way back to the largest building.
An hour or so after the men of Gondor had eaten, all had gone to rest save Boromir, who now stood before Elrond. They had relocated outside, to the large terrace outside Elrond's study. Elrond sat and studied the man as he paced the length of the terrace.
He was tall for a man, though not quite matching the height of Aragorn. His dark hair was roughly cut to shoulder length and he wore a beard. This was peculiar to Elrond, for elves by their nature bore no facial hair other than eyelashes and eyebrows. The man's eyes were a grey-blue hue, the outer iris flecked with gold. They darted nervously back and forth. Most certainly, there was something plaguing this man's mind.
Boromir's clothes were dark leather and heavy wool, without adornment except for a single broach that tied his cloak. These were the clothes of a warrior, practical and comfortable. He carried a large sword on his hip, and Elrond could the outline of a dagger at the hem of his boot. Elrond was certain that, whatever else the man was, he was a assured and capable warrior.
"I have come to speak to you of a dream, which has invaded my thoughts for too long now. I do not believe it to be a coincidence with all that is unfolding at Mordor."
The words that broke the silence surprised the Elf-lord, for the strong warrior before seemed truly worried.
"What is it that comes to you in such a troubled dream?"
"In the dream I see the eastern sky grow dark, but in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'your doom is at hand: Isildur's bane is found!' But this does not make sense to me, for surely if Sauron had the One Ring, he would have overrun all of Middle Earth by now."
Elrond nodded gravely at the truth of the man's words. But he wondered whether to tell Boromir now of the whereabouts of the Ring, or to wait until the council convened. Boromir was a man, just a Isildur had been. Men were by their nature flawed, and even the great Isildur, High King was not spared from the lure of the power of the Ring. His will had not been strong enough, so what then could the Elf-lord expect from the Steward of Gondor. He did not know, but he felt an obligation of truth. It the truth was withheld now, it would be all the more difficult to unite later.
"Sauron does not have the Ring." At this Boromir looked up and stared at Elrond, as though he knew what was coming next.
"The One Ring resides here, at Rivendell. It was found by a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, and it was brought here by the hobbit's nephew Frodo Baggins."
Boromir did not appear to react to this news, but behind the man's cool eyes, Elrond could see a myriad of emotions burn bright: shock, fear, joy, yearning.
"Does Sauron know of its whereabouts?"
"I believe so. Frodo Baggins was set upon by Ringwraiths three days ago. And two days ago, a young elf-maid barely escaped with her life for she too was pursued by the Úlairi"
Elrond stood then and walked over to the ornately carved railings, gazing out over the land. He decided then that Boromir should know the full extent of what had occurred.
"It seems also that the great leader of the Istari, Saruman the White, has been corrupted by the lure of the Ring. I believe that it is only a matter of time before it is found. Rivendell is no match for the combined force of Saruman and Sauron."
Boromir saw the underlying warning: if Rivendell was not safe then nowhere was.
"I understand then was you convened this meeting. Clearly some course of action must be decided upon to keep the Ring out of evil hands."
Elrond's expression remained unchanged, but in his mind he saw the response as a true mark of the man's attitude. Though the bane of Isildur had plagued his dreams, Boromir thought only of keeping the Ring away from Sauron, and not of destroying the curse forever. Though thousands of years had passed, it seemed that the men of Gondor had not yet learned from the failings of those who had gone before. Nevertheless, the Elf-lord did not speak of it.
"I will leave you now to gather your thoughts. There will be a great deal of discussion tomorrow. I believe that our answers lie there." With that, Elrond departed, leaving Boromir with only his thoughts.
Legolas had awoken some hours previously. He could see from his vantage out the window that it was near midday now. And still Nephryn slept, nearly fourteen hours now. She had not woken during the night, and to Legolas she seemed at peace, though how long or whether this peace would sustain, he did not know.
Though he was wide awake, he was very comfortable, and did not wish to leave her side until she opened her eyes. In the gardens below, he could hear loud voices conversing. He did not readily recognise them, and thought that it was unlikely that the raucous, gruff voices belonged to elves. Perhaps some of Elrond's anticipated guests had arrived.
Their voices grew suddenly louder, as though they were arguing, and then there was yelling, like nothing ever heard at Rivendell. The sounds were better suited to an unctuous, decrepit watering hole than one of the last remaining Elven havens. As the yelling persisted, Nephryn shifted in his arms, moaning at the disturbance of her quiet slumber.
Without warning one voice towered above them all, ordering them to desist. Nephryn awoke, startled. Her eyes went to the window, from where the disturbance emanated. She blinked sleepily and her hands sought out his, in search of silent comfort.
"Do not fear. I believe Elrond's guests have arrived."
Nephryn turned to him, her jade eyes sparkling with renewed energy.
"I am not afraid. You are with me, just as you promised. I have nothing to fear." She spoke softly and evenly, as though she was reciting a mantra. Her hand went to his cheek, and she caressed his face lightly with the tips of her fingers.
"So kind. And fair." She whispered, as she gently traced the contours of his face. The noise from beyond the window had vanished, and Legolas found himself lost and drowning in her liquid eyes. He stared as her face drew into a small smile.
"Do you care for me, Legolas?" The question surprised him, but he could see the sincerity plainly written in her demure expression.
"More than I comprehend. You deserve so much more than I could offer. I do not understand this bond that has grown so quickly and so strongly, but I do know that more than I hate to be parted from you, I dread that you will fall in harms way." Nephryn's heart was lifted by this, for she too felt that, though they had only met two days previously, a bond had formed instantly and it strengthened every moment they were together.
"I do not know what I have done to deserve you Legolas. I do not understand. But I do not care."
Gently, he grasped her hands, holding them between his own and drawing them to his lips. He placed the lightest kiss on each grazed knuckle, and then leaned forward pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.
"Do you feel improved? For you were struck with a deep exhaustion last night."
"I feel as though I could sleep for another hundred years, but I cannot spend another moment here. The sunlight and the clear air do beckon. I need to feel the warmth on my face and the breeze in my hair."
Legolas stood up and stretched, before extending his arm to Nephryn. They walked together toward the door. As she passed the mirror on the bureau, Nephryn caught the image of her reflected self. She stopped and stared at the wan being in the mirror. A hand flew to the smell scratches on her cheek and a tiny slit on her pale lips.
"I cannot present myself like this if there are visitors about." She whispered brokenly, as though she had never seen the injuries.
Legolas saw the expression of disdain on her face, but was at a loss as to what he could do. There was little he himself could do.
"Wait here. I shall return." Legolas left Nephryn staring, hypnotised by the reflection. Minutes later, he reappeared, knocking softly on the door as he entered. Nephryn was sitting on the bed, drinking the sunlight that broke through the white linen drapes.
"Nephryn?" She turned around and smiled, squinting in the brightness.
"I have brought someone to help you change and dress." Legolas pushed the door open and ushered a young elf-maid into the room. She bowed lightly and approached the bed slowly.
"I will leave you now. I will be in the gardens when you are ready." With that Legolas inclined his head slightly and left.
The elf-maid walked over to Nephryn, and gently titled her head towards her.
"I am Serutîl. The elf-prince said that you required some assistance."
"Can you perform miracles?" Nephryn responded brokenly. "I am bruised and battered and unfit to seen by anyone."
It was true; Serutîl could see the bruises on her face and shoulders. No doubt they had discoloured and become more visible as she healed. But they took very little from the elf's astounding beauty. Though beauty was simply another facet of the elven existence, Serutîl saw that this elf was truly stunning.
"A little arnica, I think for the bruises, and an Athelas salve for the cuts. Then we shall change your dressings."
Serutîl set to work quickly, pulling several vials from her pocket. Using a small linen gauze, she applied the arnica balm to the extensive bruising along the elf's collar bone and throat. When the contusions were covered in a slick film, she went to the basin and soaked a washcloth in boiling water and held the hot compress to the affected areas. She instructed Nephryn to hold the steaming compresses in place, while she set about mixing the Athelas into a soft poultice.
"This may sting slightly." She warned as she used her fingertips to smear the salve over the long scratches on Nephryn's cheek, and the deeper slit on her upper lip. If it hurt, Nephryn did not show it.
"The Athelas will soak in quickly and draw the wounds closed. Now, if you don't mind, I shall change the dressings on your wound."
Mutely Nephryn removed the loose tunic, leaving only a small, sleeveless shell to cover her. As Serutîl removed the old bindings, she saw the full extent on Nephryn's wounds. Bruises were smattered over most of the visible skin, some were older and tinged with yellow, while others, mostly on her upper torso, were newly formed, a deep angry purple, tinged with red where the skin was nearly broken.
Nephryn caught her staring and hung her head in what appeared to be embarrassment.
Gently, Serutîl tipped her chin up so that she could see her face.
"You have nothing that will not heal, and you should feel no shame, for you have surely survived what might have destroyed many others. You are strong and brave. Do not hide it behind these marks."
She redressed the wound quickly, and only noticed the black marking on the elf's shoulder as her helped her put on an light robe. She paid little attention to it, and attributed the slight undulation in the symbol to a trickery of light.
When Nephryn was dressed, Serutîl led her to the bureau and sat her down in front of the mirror. Nephryn smiled at the reflection now, for much of the bruising was hidden and the scrapes had faded to a rosy pink tone. Serutîl began to unbraid the elf's long tresses, and when the braids were removed, she began to brush it out. It shone in the morning sunlight and fell around her in soft waves.
"Beautiful!" Serutîl murmured under her breath.
"Come!" She held her hand out to Nephryn. "I believe a certain Elf-prince awaits you presence in the gardens."
Legolas sat on a long branch, which bowed deeply out onto the fast moving river Bruinen. The gush of white water flowing at the foot of the great Misty Mountains soothed his mind, and calmed his body. The seeming loud sounds of the newly arrived guests had faded away, and Legolas was content to sit in silence. While he might be content to sit, it seemed that someone else did not want it to be.
Legolas heard the heavy footfalls above the din of the surging currents, and turned toward the unwanted interruption, before the stranger was even aware that he had been seen. Legolas could see now that it was a man who stood below him, at the bank of the river. He leaned one foot on a fallen bough, leaning heavily against it. It seemed that he too sought to lose his dark thoughts in the crystal undercurrents.
Legolas jumped down from the branch, and landed with all the grace of a four-legged tree-dweller. So surprised was the man by Legolas's sudden appearance that in his hasty retreat, he almost stumbled into the river, but for Legolas hands flying out to grab the man's leathern tunic.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"It is nothing," he replied, distrust etched onto his face. "I was merely lost in my own thoughts. I would surely have heard your approach otherwise."
Legolas merely inclined his head, before turning to leave.
"Wait! I did not mean to be so rude. Please, I am a guest here. I do not know your name." Legolas squinted at the man. Clearly, he did not have much contact with elves before this for if he had, he would recognised Legolas as a Wood elf, and so also a visitor here.
"I too am a visitor. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil." He bowed lightly. The man returned the gesture.
"I am Boromir, Steward of Gondor and son of Denethor. It is my honour to meet you." So this was one of the company of men that had arrived from Minas Tirith.
"So Legolas, you too are here for this counsel of representatives?" Legolas nodded, as they walked back toward the gardens.
"Yes, I represent the Wood elves of Northern Mirkwood on behalf of my father." Legolas did not wish to speak further of the meeting for he did not know what Elrond had told him of the subject they had come to discuss.
They walked slowly, in an uncomfortable silence. Legolas was about to speak when a soft melodious voice called his name. Legolas turned around to find Nephryn standing mere feet away. She was alone, but he spied the kind elf-maid retreating quickly into the house. Nephryn had changed into a simple sky-blue robe that flowed like around her like glistening water, pooling softly at her feet. It was drawn in low about her waist by a thin cerulean sash. The long sleeves hugged her slender arms and flared at the cuffs. Her hair was loose now, except for two tiny braids that held the silken tresses away from her face.
As he walked toward her, her face broke into a smile. As he reached for her hands, he saw that the bruising had diminished, and that her colour had perked up.
His slender hands went to cup her face as he drew her close to press a tender kiss to her firm lips. When he drew back, he saw a faint blush creep up her cheeks, and she laughed lightly basking in the glow of his presence. Legolas had all but forgotten that they were not alone, until he heard a soft cough behind him.
Pulling Nephryn gently with him, he turned back to Boromir, his wide grin dissolving into a more subdued smile.
"Nephryn, may I introduce Boromir, Steward of Gondor. He arrived this morning. He will partake in the upcoming council. Boromir, may I present Nephryn Istriél of the realm of the Lady of the Wood." Boromir bowed deeply. When he stood, he grasped Nephryn's hand and pressed a firm kiss to her slender fingers.
"Truly, the most beautiful creatures reside here," He breathed.
Nephryn smiled, for though she received copious amounts of flattery from all who had cared for her, this man was a stranger, unbiased in his opinions. She merely nodded her head in response to his kind words.
"Do you hail from this fair kingdom Nephryn?" Boromir queried, his tone bright.
Nephryn looked at Legolas, unsure as to how much the elf had told him. Legolas expression remained blank, so she proceeded with as much of the truth as she thought appropriate.
"I hail from Lothlorién. I was- am an apprentice to the Lady Galadriél." Boromir smirked at this, as though scoffing at a joke.
Legolas frowned slightly at this, failing to see the humour.
"Something amuses you Lord Boromir?" The elf questioned.
"Merely that the myth of the Lady of the Golden Wood has long been recognised among the people of Gondor as just that, a myth. A fantasy conjured by a race of beings whose existence in Middle Earth dwindles." Nephryn's face darkened at this, and Legolas could feel the fury emanating from her.
Squeezing her hand faintly, Legolas held up a hand to stay Boromir's assumed truths.
"You would do well to be cautious in how you ridicule another cultures beliefs and members. Whether you believe what you call a myth or not, is entirely up to you. Be aware however that when we meet, among your fellow representatives will be Lord Celeborn of Lorién, the myth's husband." Legolas spoke in a calm measured voice, determined not to let his anger seep through.
In his many years, Legolas had seen and met many men, and found that they were entirely too quick to readily accept any information, however unreliable or otherwise. Boromir had been so quick to scoff at one of the greatest and fairest elf-queens that had walked Middle Earth, in spite of the fact that he was a guest among elves.
Boromir recognised the underlying anger, and was immediately repentant, attributing his hasty assumptions to his lack of knowledge of the elven ways. While Legolas remained inwardly sceptical, he accepted the apology, as did Nephryn.
The three walked through the gardens, conversing on idle subjects such as the scenic views in the outlying areas of the Misty Mountains and the ornate elven architecture. Legolas deliberately slowed their pace so that Nephryn would not tire too quickly. He did not know whether Boromir had noticed that the elf-maid was injured.
Their quiet discussions were cut short at the sounds of a crowd arriving across the bridge, into the courtyard. Legolas looked down, over the river, shading his eyes with a long slender hand. Nephryn did likewise.
"I believe our friends the dwarves have arrived." Legolas muttered sarcastically. Surely enough, lead by Arwen atop a large black mare, a group of six dwarves marched heavily. Aragorn brought up the rear, riding his own steed as well as guiding a troop of six horses.
Clearly the horses had been brought along to hasten the return to Rivendell, but no doubt dwarves stubbornness had kept the six representatives from using them. And without doubt, they would later complain about the length and hardship of their journey from Moriả.
Boromir made a move to go down to join the newly arrived guests, but Legolas placed a hand on the mans arm.
"Perhaps you aught to wait until the dwarves have been settled into their rooms. They can be quite cantankerous when they are tired." Boromir saw in the elf's eyes that there was another reason for him to keep his distance, but he decided not to pursue it.
"You are wise Legolas of Mirkwood. I, myself, am quite tired. I shall depart to my room, I think. I shall, no doubt see you later." With that, Boromir bowed his head and turned toward the house.
When he had disappeared from view, Nephryn turned to Legolas, frowning as she spoke.
"Why did you not wish for Boromir to meet with the troop of dwarves?"
"Well it was not because they are grumpy, for you, as well as I know that dwarves are always grumpy." This drew a quiet chuckle from Nephryn, as she nodded her head in agreement.
"No, alas I did not want him to encounter Strider."
"Why not?" Legolas considered his answer carefully. Perhaps he aught to wait until the convening of the council before Aragorn's true identity became known.
"I did not want them to meet because there has long been suspicion among the men of Gondor about the Rangers of the North." Nephryn's frowned at this, as though it did not make sense to her. Although this was not the true reason for Legolas wishing that they should not meet, it was not a falsehood.
"Why so?" Nephryn seemed as though she aught to have known about this conflict Legolas smiled at her persistent curiosity.
"Rangers have long been regarded with suspicion by the very people the rangers protect. Their work is to keep at bay the evil spread of dark creatures of Sauron. Though many might ridicule the Rangers, of which Aragorn is a part, it is quite likely that much of Middle Earth would be overrun by evil creatures were it not for the persistent efforts of the Rangers."
Nephryn seemed to understand then, and appeared to leave the matter be for the moment.
Legolas knew that the two would meet eventually and there would be a great seal of suspicion and doubt, though not merely for reasons that he had given Nephryn. At least though, if Elrond were present, there would likely be less friction, for Elrond's wisdom in such matters of history and lore were widely accepted as trustworthy.
"Come! We have spoken enough of that retched history. You must eat to recover your strength." He proffered his arm, and once more, they made their way into the house.