Chapter 12: disturbing faces--revised
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Hey all!!!! Sorry it took so long to update, I had a crapload of midterms to do, so this project was put on the back burner for a little while. I still have to finish my second ten-page research paper, so the next chapter might be slow in coming. My significant-other has told me that he thinks that I should stop this story here and make the rest into a sequel. Let me know what you think.
PS: Sorry for the really bad grammar in the last version, I hope all of my readers will forgive me.
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The day of the summer festival was fast arriving. There were twenty-three elves traveling to Rivendell, of whom included the Lord and Lady of Lorien, Élharma, Haldir and both of Haldir's brothers.
As everyone made preparations, Lorien took on an air of excitement. There were clothes to be made, food to bring, and the general packing involved in traveling.
Galadriel saw to it that Élharma was well suited for the ball, giving strict orders to Lorien's very best tailors to attire the maiden in their best workmanship. The dressmakers obliged willingly, happy to create works of art for such a flawless subject. By the end of the preparations, Élharma had four splendid gowns with which to array herself in during the festival.
Haldir, too, had new attire fitted for him. Each piece of clothing was fit for a king, there was a green velvet cloak that was ornately embroidered with golden thread, silken tunics, breeches of the softest suede leather, boldly dyed brilliant colors.
On the morning before they were to depart, Haldir and Élharma went to Calmacil's heard to request a ride to Rivendell. Not that the stabelry of Lorien was lacking suitable steeds, the two elves simply preferred calling upon the use of their longtime friends.
Haldir chose to ride Maaio, she had grown into a tall, stocky mare whose coat shone redder than blood. The exuberant mare danced and pranced about as Haldir gently brushed the horse's thick black mane.
Élharma quietly requested Dil's leave to carry her to Rivendell. The now full-grown stallion was more than willing, greeting the maiden with a loud trumpeting call. He had kept the ebony colored coat of his youth; it glistened with an almost midnight-blue hue in the morning sun. The colt was taller and leggier than his father, and, although he lacked the muscle mass of the older stallion, made up for it with a finesse and grace that Calmacil decidedly lacked.
When the preparations were finished, all of the elves mounted their respectful steeds and began the lighthearted journey to Rivendell.
Haldir and some of the other guards, including both Orophin and Rhúmil, rode in front; keeping a wary eye on the surrounding forest.
Next rode Galadriel and Celeborn on their pair of snow white horses. Immediately behind the Lord and Lady rode Élharma, although she would sometimes migrate ahead to ride alongside the Lady whenever the three became involved in any interesting discussions. It might be worthy to note that for most of the trip, they were caught in a light but at times heated discussion over the differences between quenyon and sindarian poetry. After Élahrma came more elves, and bringing up the back was another wave of guards and sentries.
When the procession arrived, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen stood in the courtyard to greet the guests. They all exchanged enthusiastic and joyful greetings as the young stable hands gathered up the horses.
Haldir watched with envy the way Elrohir helped Élharma down from Dil's broad back. Despite his calm, almost bored exterior, the simple action brought flames to his heart. He was so infuriated that this pompous elf would take such…such…such LIBERTIES with Élharma that he thoroughly forgot to dismount his patient steed. It was only when one of the stable hands asked him, "Sir, I will take the horse, if you so please." That he realized how ridiculous he appeared. Quickly dismounting, he mumbled something about enjoying the view and busied himself with finding his luggage among the large stack of bags.
Élharma, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying herself. She had all of the people whom she loved dearly gathered together. Her heart was full of contentment.
Elrohir helped her from the horse, an eternal laugh caught in the depths of his face, "I see you have honed your riding skills even more, my dear maiden." He said easily.
His light comment, mingled with the joy that emanated from the very walls of Rivendell, made her laugh as well.
When she heard a servant ask Haldir something behind her, she turned to see if he needed any assistance. Much to her surprise, Haldir was obviously upset as he hurried to the stack of baggage, his face was flushed and his lips were drawn into a tight, angry line.
'I will see what is bothering him after we get settled.' She thought with concern. Unfortunately, she had no time to think more on the subject, as Arwen had snatched up her hand and was literally bouncing into the passageway that would lead to Élharma's room. The princess was bubbling over with mirth, the joy of the summer festival evident in her every actions. Elrohir gathered up the bags and followed quietly behind.
As they navigated the maze of Imladris, Élharma sensed a strange but markedly unhappiness emanating from Elrohir. She paused, allowing the elf to catch up to her.
"What is bothering you, my friend?" She gently asked.
He kept his eyes locked on the floor.
Arwen grinned impishly, she made an excited noise in her throat but did not utter a word.
Élharma raised an inquisitive brow.
Elrohir did not answer; so Arwen, who could not stand the suspense any longer, blurted out "IknowIknowIknow!!!!" In a high, squeaky voice.
Elrohir flushed slightly as his sister teased, "My deeeeear big brother has thoroughly fallen in loooooove with one of the maidens that came from Mirkwood!!!" with an obnoxious gleam in her bright blue eyes.
Understanding suddenly dawned in Élharma's eyes. "My dear elf, you are truly a good friend. Because you have your father's great sense of loyalty and integrity, you have found yourself in a quandary. Your mind is willing to withhold your promises to me, but your heart has fallen for another."
Arwen and Elrohir nodded in unison, Arwen had a mischievous grin.
Élharma stopped walking and turned to the elf. She took his big, strong hands into her own smaller ones and gently commanded, "Look at me."
He complied reluctantly, slowly drawing his pale blue eyes to meet her own.
"I release you from your promises to me. You have no obligations left to me except that of your friendship, which I hope lasts through all of time." Élharma said.
He grinned, and she continued, her voice becoming fierce to the point of harshness "Now, go, I tell you. Go and get your maiden, and when you have her, don't let her go! Do you hear me, Elrohir? Don't you ever let her go!"
He pulled her into a quick embrace of thanks before handing Arwen and Élharma their luggage and fleeing down the hallway.
Upon arriving to the room, Élharma was pleased to see that her suite was nestled near the outskirts of Imladris, giving her a most delightful view of the gardens. And, much to her delight, the large glass doors that led out to a small patio would place the setting sun in full view.
Arwen was practically bouncing in place, "Do you like it?" she asked in a high voice, "I asked for it personally, since I knew you liked watching the sunset so much."
Élharma turned to her friend, "It is the best suite I have ever stayed in." She said quite truthfully.
Arwen took pains to hang Élharma's new garments in the closet, 'ooooh'ing and 'ahhhh'ing over every fold in the delicate fabrics. She pulled out the dark green gown and held it against the much-amused maiden, "This is what you shall wear for dinner tonight."
Élharma grinned and teased, "Come now, my dear Arwen, calm yourself, I know for a fact that you are well acquainted with such garments. You yourself have many hanging in your closets."
Arwen rolled her eyes and caressed the plush velvet, "I do indeed, but you have never worn anything fancier than that dreary old pink thing. And even that dress I have only witnessed your ever wearing three times!!! I cannot wait to see you attired in such gowns that array your beauty in the way that you deserve."
Élharma laughed aloud, falling into the joy that wrapped its warm arms around her mind like a comforting embrace.
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Haldir, in contrast, was not happy in the least bit. He stomped about his very luxurious room angrily. In his minds eye, the sight of that impish elf's hands on Élharma burned itself on his every thought. And she had laughed!! That creature had actually made her laugh.
The evening bell sounded loud and clear through the halls, signaling for the evening meal; and Haldir steeled himself for the longest session of torment in his life.
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Arwen and Élharma had just finished braiding each other's hair when the bell rang. The two maidens turned to each other to view their handiwork.
Arwen stood with all of the regal nobility borne into her blood, arrayed in a silken gown a hue of blue that rivaled the clearest summer sky. She wore a silver ringlet upon her pale brow and her dark brown hair was loosely looped into itself in an intricate pattern of weaves, and a simple white-gold chain graced her long, slender neck.
Élharma was imperially arrayed in the emerald green gown of heavy velvet fabric. It was a simple cut having not a seam between the bodice and the skirt, revealing her trim figure. It bared her shoulders with an open collar that boasted the graceful curve of her neck. Arwen had twisted and plaited her wavy trusses into a tight but ornate rope that trailed down her shoulders to end in a heavy curl at the small of her back.
Arwen tugged at her friend's arm, "Come on! We don't want to be late."
Élahrma sighed, consciously calming her nerves, "I feel absolutely ridiculous in this blasted dress." She grumbled.
Arwen, not feeling an ounce of pity for her nervous companion, "Come now, Élharma, don't chicken out now, you look…." Here she stopped, for Haldir had suddenly burst through the door to their chambers.
He stood frozen in the doorway, the vision in front of him barely registering upon his conciseness as Élharma. He finally managed to whisper, "Breathtaking," finishing Arwen's sentence for her.
Arwen cast a wicked grin to the stunned maiden before loosely saying, "Wonderful. Haldir, you are just in time. Would you please escort this lady to the dining hall? She is in need of assistance." She quickly scooted around him, capturing the arm of a passing elf in the hallway.
Haldir regained his composure and offered his arm to Élahrma, "It would be my pleasure to escort you to dinner this eve, milady," He said regally.
She smiled up at him with a smile that made his knees weak. Maybe this evening would not be as miserable as he had thought, as long as he could keep that blasted prince away from his maiden, it might actually be enjoyable.
With a gentle smile gracing her full lips, she demurely took his arm in her hand and said, "I would be honored if you would be my escort."
While they walked the hall, Élharma leaned her head against his shoulder and primly asked, "My dear Haldir, what is bothering you? You have not been yourself today."
He arched his eyebrow and answered, "I must know weather or not you have feelings for Elrohir. Forgive mc, but my heart is begging me to discover weather or not you love him."
"As I have said before, you and only you are my only love, and nothing shall tear me from that." She murmured to him.
He grinned, yes; it would be a wonderful evening.
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They arrived at the dining hall to find that most of the guests had already been seated. They were shown their places, thankfully next to each other. On the other side of Élharma were Galadriel and then Celeborn, and on the other side of Haldir were some officers from Elrond's courts. Across the ornately carved table were Elrond, Arwen and Elrond's sons.
The food was proffered and the heady aromas filled the air. The soft buzz of conversation soon arose as the elves began chatting among themselves.
Haldir was absolutely delighted to see his melmë (love) involved in the din. She was completely composed, so unlike the Élharma that had been at the table of Lorien years before.
There was a pause in the conversation and Élharma turned to him, asking, "Does this meal suit you, my dear?"
He smiled and answered, "Yes, my love, it does suit me, although it does not satisfy me."
"What would satisfy you?" She asked innocently, genuine concern flickering across her fair features.
He dipped his head and gently kissed the column of her neck. As he passed her ear, he whispered, "You satisfy me."
To his utter delight, he saw a rose-colored blush creep up her neck and burn upon her cheeks. She hurriedly busied herself with her plate, desperately hoping that no one saw his most recent public transgression. Much to her absolute dismay, she felt Arwen watching them with an air of utter amusement.
Haldir looked around, searching for a familiar face with which to converse. His eyes fell on Elrohir, who was grinning impishly at the march-warden with a knowing look in his eye. Haldir noticed a pretty little elf hanging on Elrohir's arm and returned the prince's grin.
Élharma could not believe that Haldir had kissed her in front of all of these people! She was utterly embarrassed, but a naughty little part of her mind thoroughly enjoyed the predicament. When she was sure that the other elves were carrying on despite her obvious discomfort, she quickly rejoined the conversation.
About halfway through the meal, a herald announced that the Lord of Mirkwood had arrived and would be joining them shortly.
When Lord Tharanduil's procession entered, Élharma watched with detatched interest as the elves were seated. She found her eyes unnervingly drawn to the only pair of amber colored eyes in the midst of pale blue ones. They seemed vaguely familiar, as if she had seen those eyes before. Disturbingly familiar, as a matter of fact. The eyes belonged to Lord Tharanduil's advisor, and Élharma searched the recesses of her mind, trying to remember where she knew that face from.
Her reflective thoughts were put to an end, though, when she found herself drawn into a debate between Celeborn and Elrond over the differences in sub-dialects of sindarin that had emerged in rivendell.
"Now here is someone truly gifted in the knowledge of languages," Celeborn gestured to Élharma, "We have had many discussions over languages, dialects, and all forms of speech in the halls of lorien, and I have yet to best her in an argument! A warning to all: Don't let her beauty fool you, she is a learned and knowledgeable elf, and a very good debater."
Elharma shook her head slightly and primly corrected, "Nay, my lord, there was but one instance where you bested me. I do believe it was concerning the influence that quenyon had on the enunciation in a sub dialect of the Rohiiran language."
Celeborn leaned back and laughed boisterously, "I stand corrected, and my point has been proven!"
As the conversation progressed, Élharma thought distractedly, 'Where have I seen that face before!?!…'
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The next day flew by in a flurry of excitement. The great hall was laid bare, its dark wooden floor polished to a glassy brilliance. Tables were arranged with refreshments, and elves from all of middle earth tuned their instruments together.
Élharma helped Arwen make the appropriate arrangements, being a point of stability as the princess flew into a panic whenever any new adjustments were made to the proceedings.
The evening finally came, and once again the two maidens helped each other prepare for the evening's merriment. And just as before, Haldir arrived just in time to escort Élahrma to the great hall.
As they walked slowly to the dance hall, Haldir could not tear his eyes from the form that seemed to float along the ground beside him. If her attire had taken his breath away the previous night, this evening it knocked him to the floor. Her gown of sapphire silk caught the pale blue hues in her eyes and lit them with a feral fire. The cut was once again simple, yet it was the definition of elegance.
The night wore on quickly, and they danced, mingled, talked, and dined on the fine cuisine.
Haldir most enjoyed the slow dances, the feeling of her solid but slender body rubbing up against him. Élharma, on the other hand, preferred the fast dances, where all of the dancers became a mirage of whirling, spinning, leaping, kicking colorful blurs in a complex pattern of moves.
After one such dance, they moved to one of the refreshment tables breathless, thankfully acquiring glasses of a deep red wine. As they stood at the edge of the crowd, Haldir saw one of his sentries rush in from outside. The elf, breathless, whispered something into Lord Celeborn's ear. Immediately, the laugh that had been written on the lord's face vanished. Searching the crowd, Celeborn's concerned gaze came to rest on Haldir. He beckoned to Haldir urgently as he quietly left the hall.
Haldir turned to Élharma, placing a light kiss on the tip of her nose, "I will return shortly, my love. Try to enjoy yourself despite my absence." He whispered.
She looked at him mournfully and answered, "I shall wait for you until the end of all ages, my love."
He left in a flourish, his rich green cloak billowing as he rushed after his lord.
Time passed and Élharma stood where Haldir had left her, quite content to watch the crowd of elves from a distance. The splendor of the lights, and the lilt of the music dazzled her senses.
Eventually, though, Elrond pulled her onto the dance floor, and they conversed lightly, much as a father and daughter, about the elves and the food and all of the other things. As the night progressed, Élharma danced with one grinning elf after another, her mind continually wondering at the business so urgent that it would pull Haldir away from her.
As she danced, she felt someone watching her, and once again, the sensation felt vaguely familiar, but she could not figure out why.
At the end of a quick ballad, she was moving off of the dance floor when the musicians started up once again. All of a sudden, she found herself swept into the strong arms of none-other than that of Lord Tharanduil's advisor.
"Good evening, my dear lady." He said fluidly
"Do I know you?" She asked, desperately searching her mind for any clue as to his identity.
"I am hurt, D'immaren. Do you not recognize me?" His silken voice pronouncing her name with ease.
That voice….
"I am sorry, but I do not recall where we met before." She said softly.
He smiled lightly, keeping an air of mysterious dignity, "Then I will have to reintroduce myself to you."
She felt his hand caress the exposed skin of her back, and a jolt of electricity exploded in her brain.
Her eyes widened in recognition.
But it couldn't be!!! She had left him for dead!
Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he chuckled, "No, my sweet thing. I am very much alive. You see, I have come to claim the one promised to me by her father. I have come to claim my wife."
She suddenly stopped, jerking away from him, fear in her eyes, "No."
Her mind reeled, NO!!! Anyone but him. She could have handled it better even if her father had walked in the door. But not him.
She ran, hot tears running down her cheeks, out of the hall, through the courtyards, in the passageways, until she reached her room. Locking the door securely behind her, she melted upon the brocade bedcover, sobs shaking her back harshly.
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Haldir followed his Lord out through the courtyard. He could not imagine what Celeborn needed him for, there were plenty of the fleet's finest captains present, and Celeborn could have chosen anyone. He looked worriedly at the dark, looming rain clouds that roiled overhead, desperately hoping that their journey would be short.
Unfortunately, they walked for many hours through the plains as thunder cracked noisily overhead. After the long trek, they came to a group of trees where a large group of elves were congregated.
Upon reaching the small grove, Haldir discovered a figure in the center, hooded in a black cloak that fell to the ground harshly.
"State your business here." One of Elrond's guards shot.
The figure uncovered its face defiantly, and to everyone's shock, it was a human! Not only a human, but a female human! The woman scanned the fair elfin faces before her, challenging them. To Haldir, her face was disturbingly familiar, yet completely foreign; he could not remember who she reminded him of, but she reminded him of someone...
Finally she spoke, "I am searching for the one called Haldir," she said in the common tongue.
There was a murmur in the ranks and Haldir asked nonchalantly, "Why are you searching for this Haldir?"
The woman turned to him, and calmly said, "He is my father."
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hmmmm. Hope you like this chapter. Please R/R!
Well? Is Élharma going to be taken away by this new face? And what is with Haldir having a daughter? A human daughter of all things? What the….?