"Why do you fret, Lady Rhyiel?" Rhyiel looked up sharply. Galadriel had entered her room, bearing a length of purple cloth.
"I have lost something." Rhyiel said hurriedly, trying to avoid the elven queen's eyes.
"Perhaps I can help you find it. What are you looking for?"
"Nothing of great importance."
"Something to cover up that contemptuous love-bite, perhaps?" It was impossible to hide anything from the elven queen. Galadriel saw all. Rhyiel flushed slightly with embarrassment. A knowing smile crossed Galadriel's face. "We are holding are grand feast tonight, my Lady Rhyiel. I brought you this," she held out the purple cloth, "with the hope that you might grace us with your company on this fine evening." Still flushed red with embarrassment, she thanked the elven queen, who promptly left her to ready herself for the feast.
* * * * * * * * * *
The evening was cool and pleasant; the sun glowed over the golden wood as burning embers sear in darkness. As dusk fell, the elves of Lorien began the feasting. Laughter and song were heard throughout the wood. Rhyiel forgot all of her worries momentarily as she took the entire scene in. She was dressed in a loosely flowing, silvery-lilac gown with a belt of silver tendrils around her waist, which fitted the lines of her body perfectly it seemed. Around her neck and draped over one shoulder she wore Galadriel's purple scarf, complimenting the dress, and hiding Haldir's mark. As she saw him approach her, she hurried for the main table where the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were seated. She would be safe from him then.
"Lady Rhyiel! We are so glad you could join us on this fine evening." She smiled and nodded to Celeborn, acknowledging his greeting. Looking around the table, Rhyiel saw many familiar faces. Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood sat opposite her, and the lord Elrond of Rivendel sat three places down from her with his daughter Arwen. Elrond, she remembered, had never trusted her fully, and Thranduil was one of those who feared her. Arwen was a loved and trusted friend and confidant to her though, and the greeting she received from her was most warm. One place at the table remained empty.
"Thranduil, where is the young prince? Is he not well?" Her voice warmed with a genuine note of concern. Thranduil's eyes alighted on hers with a brief nervousness before he spoke.
"Legolas will be attending shortly. I apologise for my son's absence." Rhyiel smiled at the thought of the young Mirkwood prince. He had such a gracious manner. Respectful and polite where ever he went, loved by all. The soft spoken prince was almost a son to her. He was sensitive, but in no way weak; he was more skilled than she was with the bow, although he would still be no match for Haldir. Haldir. It always came back to him. He was so different to her beloved Mirkwood prince. He was no son to her. Abruptly the young prince arrived at the table and apologised profusely for his absence.
"Lady Rhyiel…" A delicate smile alighted his fine features. "It is good to be seeing you again."
"Yes. You were but a slip of an elf when I saw you last, but you have grown so much!"
"You have changed too, Rhyiel." A note of sadness seemed present in his voice. In a different train of thought, Rhyiel realised that only Legolas and Arwen called her by her name, without title. Even Haldir… Damn him… called her "my lady".
"Yes, Legolas, I have changed." She said returning to the present. "I have aged, I know that it shows in my face."
"It isn't that, Rhyiel, for I still think you as beautiful as when I was but a small elfling. It is just…" His eyes darted around nervously, as his father had a habit of doing in her presence. "You seem drained of vitality. It is as if something is eating away at you from the inside, threatening to consume you whole." Rhyiel sighed. Legolas was a very perceptive elf sometimes.
"You are very observant, young elfling…" she said, borrowing a phrase from the past.
"I just know you." She looked up with surprise. She did not expect such an answer from him. A line of worry creased his brow.
"It is true, Legolas, I grow weary of this world, whilst my sister grows strong. I have told you of my sister, have I not?"
"Once."
"Then I shall not have to tell you again."
"I should not want to hear it, if it drains you so."
"Why are you worrying over me, young elfling?"
"I do not wish you to die, although it seems that you will not last." Sadly she nodded, and lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. The purple scarf of Galadriel's slipped slightly as she moved, and the mark on her neck was visible for a mere instant. Both Arwen's and Legolas' eyes widened for the briefest of moments, although no one else appeared to have noticed. That delicate smile spread across Legolas' face again, and he looked as if he were trying not to laugh. Arwen's was a look of incredulousness. Rhyiel ignored them for the present. She knew that they would not interrogate her over dinner, because they knew that she would not answer their questions if they should ask.
The feast went long into the night, and although Rhyiel was enjoying herself, it seemed to draw on and on. Finally she could sit no longer and had to leave. She needed rest, but she needed something else as well. Although she hated him, she found herself missing Haldir's familiar company. Often she would eat her evening meal with him (usually because he was the one who brought it to her) and he was fairly tolerable to her at mealtimes. Almost agreeable. She rose from her place at the table.
"I apologise, but I need rest. I bid you all goodnight." Simultaneously Arwen and Legolas rose in their places.
"Can we escort you to your rest, Rhyiel?" Legolas quietly intoned, a seemingly gracious smile playing over his face. Rhyiel was on the verge of declining when she remembered that once she left, Haldir would most likely leave after her. Although she missed his company, she did not want to see him.
"Yes, I would like that very much." Rhyiel, Legolas and Arwen left the feast, arm in arm. She was quite sure that Haldir spied the young Mirkwood prince by her side then. But he would not follow.
"Who was it, mellonamin¹?" Arwen asked her softly as Legolas erupted into peals of laughter.
"I will tell you, Arwen Undómiel, but not at the moment. Our young prince here does not deserve to know, although I do not doubt that he will find out regardless." Legolas immediately stopped laughing, and a look of mock disappointment crossed his face. "It is no laughing matter, Legolas."
"I am truly sorry, but you misread my logic." Rhyiel looked at him questioningly. "I only find it amusing because I have seen you as such an ancient and wise thing, something that I have held in such high regard for all of my life, someone I feel melancholic at the thought of losing. The sheer absurdity of this," He gestured vaguely at the mark on her neck. "for the briefest moments, you were as young as the rest of us! Am I forgiven?"
"Yes, but I am not going to tell you. Going off the topic, come to the archery range with me tomorrow. I want to see how good you have become."
"Of course. I will bid you goodnight then, and return to the feast."
"Goodnight, Legolas."
"Tell me, Rhyiel, who was it?" Arwen insisted once Legolas had left them.
"An arrogant ass of an elf, that is who." Rhyiel's face coloured in annoyance.
"Whoever he is, he certainly has you vexed. Who is he?"
"Must I tell you?"
"You must. I am your friend, and I want to know who is causing you so much grief." Rhyiel sighed.
"I do not think he causes me grief, but he… Oh damn him!"
"…"
"He is an elf named Haldir." Rhyiel's voice was a strained whisper.
"Haldir? I think I have heard of him… One of Lorien's finest captains, I think it was said of him." Rhyiel nodded.
"Most likely we will see him at the archery range tomorrow. I want to see how much better he is with a bow than Legolas. With his pride to defend, I am sure he will take up the challenge."
"Do you not think he will take up the challenge to win you? Surely he might have thought Legolas a love of yours."
"Legolas is a love of mine, but I love him like I would a son. And I had thought of that. I do not doubt that Haldir might be jealous." Both of the elven women smiled. "Yes, he will be jealous."
* * * * * * * * * *
¹ Mellonamin - my friend
"I have lost something." Rhyiel said hurriedly, trying to avoid the elven queen's eyes.
"Perhaps I can help you find it. What are you looking for?"
"Nothing of great importance."
"Something to cover up that contemptuous love-bite, perhaps?" It was impossible to hide anything from the elven queen. Galadriel saw all. Rhyiel flushed slightly with embarrassment. A knowing smile crossed Galadriel's face. "We are holding are grand feast tonight, my Lady Rhyiel. I brought you this," she held out the purple cloth, "with the hope that you might grace us with your company on this fine evening." Still flushed red with embarrassment, she thanked the elven queen, who promptly left her to ready herself for the feast.
* * * * * * * * * *
The evening was cool and pleasant; the sun glowed over the golden wood as burning embers sear in darkness. As dusk fell, the elves of Lorien began the feasting. Laughter and song were heard throughout the wood. Rhyiel forgot all of her worries momentarily as she took the entire scene in. She was dressed in a loosely flowing, silvery-lilac gown with a belt of silver tendrils around her waist, which fitted the lines of her body perfectly it seemed. Around her neck and draped over one shoulder she wore Galadriel's purple scarf, complimenting the dress, and hiding Haldir's mark. As she saw him approach her, she hurried for the main table where the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were seated. She would be safe from him then.
"Lady Rhyiel! We are so glad you could join us on this fine evening." She smiled and nodded to Celeborn, acknowledging his greeting. Looking around the table, Rhyiel saw many familiar faces. Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood sat opposite her, and the lord Elrond of Rivendel sat three places down from her with his daughter Arwen. Elrond, she remembered, had never trusted her fully, and Thranduil was one of those who feared her. Arwen was a loved and trusted friend and confidant to her though, and the greeting she received from her was most warm. One place at the table remained empty.
"Thranduil, where is the young prince? Is he not well?" Her voice warmed with a genuine note of concern. Thranduil's eyes alighted on hers with a brief nervousness before he spoke.
"Legolas will be attending shortly. I apologise for my son's absence." Rhyiel smiled at the thought of the young Mirkwood prince. He had such a gracious manner. Respectful and polite where ever he went, loved by all. The soft spoken prince was almost a son to her. He was sensitive, but in no way weak; he was more skilled than she was with the bow, although he would still be no match for Haldir. Haldir. It always came back to him. He was so different to her beloved Mirkwood prince. He was no son to her. Abruptly the young prince arrived at the table and apologised profusely for his absence.
"Lady Rhyiel…" A delicate smile alighted his fine features. "It is good to be seeing you again."
"Yes. You were but a slip of an elf when I saw you last, but you have grown so much!"
"You have changed too, Rhyiel." A note of sadness seemed present in his voice. In a different train of thought, Rhyiel realised that only Legolas and Arwen called her by her name, without title. Even Haldir… Damn him… called her "my lady".
"Yes, Legolas, I have changed." She said returning to the present. "I have aged, I know that it shows in my face."
"It isn't that, Rhyiel, for I still think you as beautiful as when I was but a small elfling. It is just…" His eyes darted around nervously, as his father had a habit of doing in her presence. "You seem drained of vitality. It is as if something is eating away at you from the inside, threatening to consume you whole." Rhyiel sighed. Legolas was a very perceptive elf sometimes.
"You are very observant, young elfling…" she said, borrowing a phrase from the past.
"I just know you." She looked up with surprise. She did not expect such an answer from him. A line of worry creased his brow.
"It is true, Legolas, I grow weary of this world, whilst my sister grows strong. I have told you of my sister, have I not?"
"Once."
"Then I shall not have to tell you again."
"I should not want to hear it, if it drains you so."
"Why are you worrying over me, young elfling?"
"I do not wish you to die, although it seems that you will not last." Sadly she nodded, and lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. The purple scarf of Galadriel's slipped slightly as she moved, and the mark on her neck was visible for a mere instant. Both Arwen's and Legolas' eyes widened for the briefest of moments, although no one else appeared to have noticed. That delicate smile spread across Legolas' face again, and he looked as if he were trying not to laugh. Arwen's was a look of incredulousness. Rhyiel ignored them for the present. She knew that they would not interrogate her over dinner, because they knew that she would not answer their questions if they should ask.
The feast went long into the night, and although Rhyiel was enjoying herself, it seemed to draw on and on. Finally she could sit no longer and had to leave. She needed rest, but she needed something else as well. Although she hated him, she found herself missing Haldir's familiar company. Often she would eat her evening meal with him (usually because he was the one who brought it to her) and he was fairly tolerable to her at mealtimes. Almost agreeable. She rose from her place at the table.
"I apologise, but I need rest. I bid you all goodnight." Simultaneously Arwen and Legolas rose in their places.
"Can we escort you to your rest, Rhyiel?" Legolas quietly intoned, a seemingly gracious smile playing over his face. Rhyiel was on the verge of declining when she remembered that once she left, Haldir would most likely leave after her. Although she missed his company, she did not want to see him.
"Yes, I would like that very much." Rhyiel, Legolas and Arwen left the feast, arm in arm. She was quite sure that Haldir spied the young Mirkwood prince by her side then. But he would not follow.
"Who was it, mellonamin¹?" Arwen asked her softly as Legolas erupted into peals of laughter.
"I will tell you, Arwen Undómiel, but not at the moment. Our young prince here does not deserve to know, although I do not doubt that he will find out regardless." Legolas immediately stopped laughing, and a look of mock disappointment crossed his face. "It is no laughing matter, Legolas."
"I am truly sorry, but you misread my logic." Rhyiel looked at him questioningly. "I only find it amusing because I have seen you as such an ancient and wise thing, something that I have held in such high regard for all of my life, someone I feel melancholic at the thought of losing. The sheer absurdity of this," He gestured vaguely at the mark on her neck. "for the briefest moments, you were as young as the rest of us! Am I forgiven?"
"Yes, but I am not going to tell you. Going off the topic, come to the archery range with me tomorrow. I want to see how good you have become."
"Of course. I will bid you goodnight then, and return to the feast."
"Goodnight, Legolas."
"Tell me, Rhyiel, who was it?" Arwen insisted once Legolas had left them.
"An arrogant ass of an elf, that is who." Rhyiel's face coloured in annoyance.
"Whoever he is, he certainly has you vexed. Who is he?"
"Must I tell you?"
"You must. I am your friend, and I want to know who is causing you so much grief." Rhyiel sighed.
"I do not think he causes me grief, but he… Oh damn him!"
"…"
"He is an elf named Haldir." Rhyiel's voice was a strained whisper.
"Haldir? I think I have heard of him… One of Lorien's finest captains, I think it was said of him." Rhyiel nodded.
"Most likely we will see him at the archery range tomorrow. I want to see how much better he is with a bow than Legolas. With his pride to defend, I am sure he will take up the challenge."
"Do you not think he will take up the challenge to win you? Surely he might have thought Legolas a love of yours."
"Legolas is a love of mine, but I love him like I would a son. And I had thought of that. I do not doubt that Haldir might be jealous." Both of the elven women smiled. "Yes, he will be jealous."
* * * * * * * * * *
¹ Mellonamin - my friend
