SUES AND SWORDS
Disclaimer: (dmraist)
There once were two girls with a pen,
Who had rabid 'magination within.
"His Greatness Tolkien is
Owner of all this,"
They said as they wrote on again.
AN: For all who thought this an issue--Tragic Beauty especially--Rúmil is NOT speaking Westron. I realize that I wrote, "the elves switched to Sindarin" rather than "Celerion switched to Sindarin" and that this might be confusing; as a result, it now reads using 'Celerion'. Profuse apologies for any confusion this may have caused.
3. Of Meetings and Sightings
Lan woke with a start, wondering why she was in a large, white, fluffy bed. She remembered entering Lórien, and meeting that rather attractive elf, Celerion. She also remembered being carried, but not to her current location. "I must have passed out from fatigue yesterday," she mumbled. "Not surprising, as I've been supporting the weight of two elves for a few days now."
"Actually, it was two days ago that you entered our wood, and you have been asleep most of that." Lan jumped, and compulsively yanked her covers up to her neck. The things she normally wore to sleep, although comfortable, were not things she would have wanted anyone to see, especially Celerion, and she doubted her current outfit was much more fit after several days of traveling and sleeping in it.
Celerion laughed, and stood from the chair he had been in. "So the lady wants her privacy. I shall depart, and send a healer in to check your well-being and give you further instructions." Lan nodded and smiled weakly as he strode out of the room.
Lan rearranged herself, trying to look more awake and composed, when another elf walked briskly into the room and sat down beside her. She was dressed very simply in a pale green ankle-length gown with slightly flared sleeves ending about mid-forearm. Her clothing was decidedly Elven, but she soon proved to be rather unusual for an elf.
"I am Temeril. I am a healer, and I have been tending you as well as your companion for the past several days. How do you feel? Are you tired, or do you feel as if you have had a good rest?"
"Well, I suppose I feel rather refreshed. But..."
"And have you noticed any aches?"
"No. But..."
"Alright, good. It is perfectly fine for you to get up and walk around today, but if you begin to feel at all faint or tired, SIT DOWN. I assume you will wish to wash off the dust of travel. If you go through that door," she mentioned, pointing to a passage to the left of the bed, "you will find a warmed tub and some drying cloths. Most just bathe in the river, but since you are recovering, an exception has been made. There is also a change of garment, which the Lady Galadriel requested that you be given. Remember, if you become tired, REST!" With this, she turned to leave, but Lan snatched at her sleeve.
"Um... how long... um... did Celerion... uh, sit there by me?" Lan blushed and averted her eyes.
"Why, he remained there the entire time. What else would he have done?" She again turned, and exited just as briskly as she had entered.
Lan sighed, and started to get up to go to the bathing room to wash away the grime and fatigue from her person and her clothing. She knew there was an extra set, but a backup never hurt anyone. As she set her feet on the floor, she reached onto the artfully carved bedside table for her glasses, which, amazingly, had remained intact. She almost went apoplectic when she put them on and discovered that she no longer needed them. She left them on the table, planning to keep them for memory's sake. She left her sheathed sword and belt where she'd found it, carefully laid on a desk beside the passage leading to the bath.
'Now to actually wash for the first time in days,' she thought with relish as she picked up her boots and walked down the corridor. 'At last!'
~~~
Some time later, Lan found herself staring, a bit disbelievingly, at the clean clothing left for her. It was lovely enough, she was sure, shivering inside the large towel-like cloth wrapped around her. Just... gowns were not very much Lan's ideal clothing. Sighing, she dressed herself, feeling awkward in the flowing material.
At home, she had always dressed in a very elvish manner, but simple outfits only--plain leggings beneath a long tunic, much like the practice outfit she'd brought to Middle-Earth. This unfortunate set of clothing (padded tunic, long leggings, boots, and thick socks) were so travel-stained that Lan nearly despaired of ever returning them to a usable condition. Not quite, however--she soaked the clothes thoroughly, scrubbing enough dust from her tunic and leggings that they returned to their normal forest green. Her socks, as grimily sweat-stained as they were, were a hopeless cause, but her boots hadn't suffered nearly as badly as the rest of her clothing. Unsure of exactly how to clean them, she cleaned their outsides and simply put them back on, discovering that the inside (at least) had been cleaned for her. Smiling at the enjoyable surprise, she returned her wet clothes to her room and set off to look for Karine.
~~~
Lan eventually got directions from a young elf, whose bright green eyes inspected Lan thoroughly. The girl's golden orange hair swirled about her as she changed direction, leading Lan to Karine's room. "She's in there, and I hear she's still unconscious, but I think you can visit her if you like."
"Thank you," Lan replied, and brushed aside the split curtain over the doorway. She stopped mid-stride when confronted by the back of a familiar and apparently irritated figure.
"I will NOT have anyone disturbing my patient! She's still out, though she's coming around. Does that satisfy your curiosity? Now get out until she's rested; no visitors for the next two days." The healer hadn't looked up during her tirade, but did so now, aware that the visitor had made no move for the door. "Oh. It's you. I assume you're clean, then?"
"Yes, but--"
"That's good. Hmm. You're fidgeting. That gown is a bit small, isn't it? Well, I'll have to mention it to Lady Galadriel when next I see her. I need to get some poultices and herbs, so you can stay with your friend--Karine, I presume?--until I get back. If she starts tossing and turning make sure she doesn't fall off the bed, but other than that, leave her alone. Is that perfectly clear?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Temeril shrugged. "I needed someone to watch her while I was gone, in any case. Oh, and don't let anyone in. She needs to REST, which she cannot do without peace. I'll be back soon."
With that, she swept out past the hanging curtain, leaving Lan standing in the center of a not-so-large room.
Lan settled into the recently vacated chair next to the peaceful (although comatose) sleeper, pondering her first encounter with the elves of Lórien, and wondering 'why in the name of all that is holy did he stay by my bedside for TWO DAYS?!" Her thoughts were interrupted by loud growls from her stomach. 'Well, it has been... four days since I've eaten. When the healer comes back, I should ask her where I can get food.'
She sat back in her chair, prepared to wait several hours for Karine to wake up, but Temeril returned and shooed her away. "You'll only prove an obstacle in this tiny room, and you need rest more than you need to help."
"Um... I was wondering..." she started, but a loud growl from her stomach made her meaning clear.
Temeril laughed. "Hungry?" Lan nodded in affirmation. The healer gave directions to the nearest place to receive food aside from meals. "Now go! My patients can only heal when I can see them."
~~~
Lan left the room and began wandering in what she thought was the right direction. She became so absorbed in gazing around what was rapidly becoming a large and impressive hall that she walked once again into Celerion.
"You seem to have developed a knack for bumping into me." Celerion turned to her and smiled, causing her blush to deepen. He laughed and called something over his shoulder at his companion, who was helping him carry a heavy beam. His companion grinned and snagged a passing elf, enlisting him to take Celerion's place. As the elves and their burden moved swiftly away, the elf at the rear leaned down and whispered something in Celerion's ear that made him flush slightly and protest. "No, no, nothing like that! Ai! He never listens to me." He sighed, cheeks darkening as he looked at Amelan. "Well, my good Lady Amelan, you have somehow wandered into an incomplete hall. If you will allow me to escort you to your destination?"
Lan nodded, realized he probably wouldn't understand the gesture, and replied, "Yes, I was just..." Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she winced and pressed a hand against it in embarrassment.
"I see." Celerion was amused. "You realize that you were going in precisely the opposite direction?"
"Uh... no, I didn't really; well, I mean I knew I wasn't going the right way, but I had no idea where I really was, and, um..." She trailed off as he laid a hand on her arm. The effect of his touch was to freeze her in place, and she stared up at him like a bewildered animal. Realizing abruptly that they resembled nothing so much as a pair of star-crossed lovers finally united, Lan tried to pull away, but Celerion's grip was stronger than she expected. He seemed to be deep in thought as his bright blue eyes held her own green gaze.
With a start, he came to and released her arm. "I'm... sorry. Shall we proceed?" He offered his arm to her, a formality that she thought might be related to the rosy pink that now tinged his cheeks, and how he kept his eyes focused straight ahead.
They made an interesting pair, between Lan's pure white gown with its delicately embroidered leaves and flowers in glowing colors, and Celerion's rough working outfit--rugged medium green tunic, beaten leather belt, and dark green leggings. Both had well-worn sturdy leather boots, the only similarity between two beings so disparate. Celerion walked with grace befitting any noble while Lan's steps were uncertain and uneven, not light as Celerion's. His hair fell silver and silken to his shoulders, and hers to the middle of her back in a golden brown cascade. Though they both had the delicate features of the Eldar, Celerion's face was carefully arrayed to show no emotion, and Lan's face revealed confusion and uncertainty clearly. Finally it was Celerion's voice that broke their long and embarrassed silence.
"May I ask... Lady Amelan, may I ask the meaning of your name?"
Amelan was taken aback by the unexpected question. "The meaning of my name?" she asked, her consternation clear in her face. "I... well, I don't know. So far as I know, it doesn't have one."
It was Celerion's turn to be shocked--so shocked, in fact, that the stopped sharply to look at her in incredulity. "No meaning?" he responded. "I find it difficult to believe."
"Why?" she confronted him. "The name 'Amelan' might be a bit strange, but I think it a nice name, and not nearly so odd as some thing I have heard."
"I... do not mean it as an insult to your parents or to you, but in my society, to willingly take and use a name without meaning, without significance, is unheard of." Her words had shaken him from his stunned astonishment, and they had once again begun to walk.
"True, but my society is far different from yours. We choose names that reflect our personality and what we like, rather than what they mean, although many do have meaning. My name is rather strange, at least where I come from. Most young women have names like Nikki, or Sara, or Lindsay, or Michelle. Very few people still remember the meaning of those names." She resented the thought that her name had no significance.
"How is 'Amelan' unusual in comparison to those? I have never heard such strange names in my lifetime! They are composed with none of the flowing grace of a name like..." he trailed off. Amelan had a suspicion that he was about to say her name, but made no comment.
"A name like whose?"
"Lady Galadriel's name is certainly beautiful." Lan grimaced at such an answer, its only purpose obviously being to cover up his mistake.
"If every name has meaning, what does yours mean? I certainly am not familiar with the term."
"Well, um... in actuality, it isn't really... oh, look! Here we are!"
He had chosen a rather convenient time to reach their destination. It would be difficult for her to pester him while shoveling food into her mouth, which at this point she was prepared to do whether it was socially acceptable or not. But it would be nice to have conversation over lunch...
"I am sorry, but I will be unable to keep you company. I must return to my work in the other hall. If you need help, anyone would be delighted to assist you." He turned and walked away, leaving Lan confused, hurt, and curious, but she put those thoughts aside until she could finish eating.
~~~
Looking down at her empty plate, Lan tried to recall the last thing she had eaten before that, suspecting as the culprit a brown sugar-cinnamon pop tart. That would certainly explain how she had cleared several plates so quickly--the food was heavenly, especially when compared to her least favorite flavor of uncooked instant breakfast.
As she stood and prepared to leave, she noticed movement by the entrance. A small group of men and (what appeared from this distance to be) four children and a dwarf had entered the hall. The fellowship had arrived! Lan stared, but realizing that she must look rather daft standing about with her mouth wide open, she hurried out of the hall. Although she admired the fellowship, she had no desire to let anything slip which might jeopardize herself, her companion, or the quest to destroy the ring. She made a mental note to make sure Karine knew not to interfere, Sue that she was. She was so absorbed in her thoughts of the horror "Aragorn's Wife" might wreak if introduced to the Fellowship that, by the time she saw the elf hurtling her direction, it was too late to move aside.
As Legolas ran into her, Lan felt the slight dizziness Temeril had warned of. Throughout his apology she felt fainter and fainter, and Aragorn must have noticed that something was wrong as he guided her to a chair to sit down. "Legolas, you should not have been so distracted and excited at meeting old friends that you ran into this young lady," he admonished in Sindarin (keeping their words private should any of the Fellowship overhear).
Legolas bowed his head, properly rebuked. "Again my deepest apologies in upsetting your balance, Lady," he apologized. "Please allow me to compensate for this damage I have wrought in my unadvised haste--if there is any manner in which I can aid you, please speak of it to me."
He sounded so distressed by what he had done, as any elf of high breeding, that Lan searched for a simple way for him to 'redeem' himself. "Well, yes, indeed, you might escort me to my room, as I ...am a guest here and am not yet familiar with my surroundings. If you will accompany as far as the north wing--formen--I can find my way past that on my own."
Legolas jumped at the chance. "I would be grateful if you would allow me the honor, milady. I do not know how many of my companions would be willing to join me--" here he glanced at Aragorn, "--but as for myself, I am familiar with the halls of Cerin Amroth, the lovely Naith of Lórien. I would be delighted to serve as your escort for a time."
"If you would have me, Lady, I, too, would accompany you," Aragorn said, in flawless Sindarin. "I will put aside my hunger for a time."
Lan searched her tired mind for a properly formal response. "I accept both your offers of escort and offer my gratitude for this service. May I ask who it is that conducts me?" Of course, Lan already knew them, but did not want to slip and mention their names without having been told who they were.
"I am Legolas, and my companion is Aragorn."
"A prince of Mirkwood and a king of Númenor. Strange people walk the world in these times." Amelan mentally whacked herself over the head. She would never have revealed such knowledge were she better rested! Even now she paid the price for having spoken--the pair had become suddenly very wary of her.
"You... know much of us, Lady, or so it would appear," said Aragorn, voice ever so slightly cold and forbidding.
"Perhaps you would deign to speak of yourself... and how it is you come by such knowledge."
"I am a traveler, a bard." Lan's voice barely shook, despite the pressure of the situation. "My name is Amelan, a family name whose meaning has been obscured by the ages. I... I passed through Mirkwood on my travels, and once a time ago through Rivendell. There I recall one whom Lord Elrond looked upon as his own son, called Estel--Hope. Only later did I learn of his true lineage, as the grandson of Arador and son of Arathorn."
Aragorn's expression barely relaxed as she related her entirely improvised fabrication. 'Bless Tolkien for his appendices,' she thought to herself, anxious for a reaction from either of the stone-faced warriors. She felt as if she were shrinking beneath their combined gazes: one stormy grey and the other the brown of oak. Finally Aragorn turned to the elf and drew him aside to speak privately. Lan began to feel gradually fainter with worry until she was so light-headed she feared she would collapse from full-blown vertigo. 'When Legolas bumped into me, I must have hit my head against the wall,' she though vaguely to herself. As she collapsed, her thought was 'Oh, no! Now I'm starting to act like Karine!'
~~~
Next she knew, a pair of elven arms was bearing her weight. Again. She looked up, expecting to see Celerion's fine-boned face, bright blue eyes, and silvery hair, but instead saw Legolas's broader face, rich brown eyes, and golden hair. 'Oh. Legolas caught me when I fell.' She shut her eyes against another wave of dizziness, but not before catching sight of Aragorn striding warily beside the elf. 'So he came along, too. Terribly decent of him.' With her eyes closed, she lost track of the distance they traveled before Legolas stopped abruptly.
"Amelan! Lady Amelan! What's wrong with her?" Celerion's face, normally as smooth and flawless as any sculptor could hope to make his masterpiece, had become creased with worry. Lan, after fighting to clear her vision long enough to see him, had to close her eyes because the light hurt them. She could not understand what the voices around her said, but she could tell they were alternately tense, worried, and subdued. Why? She felt herself shift, and thinking that she was falling, held out an arm to stop herself. Someone took her hand and drew her arm back, and she was placed into a new set of arms. After more voices, they turned and moved on.
~~~
Eventually, Lan felt herself placed on a bed, and her boots were removed before she was shifted into a more comfortable position and a blanket placed over her. She opened her eyes slightly and found herself staring into Celerion's bright blue eyes. "Wha... why...?"
"Hush, rest." Celerion smiled at her, brushed a tendril of hair away from her face, blushed, and was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Authoresses' notes:
(dmr) I think that Kaylana and Galadhwen will be amused if I mention that yes, I have made a map for Cerin Amroth and yes, I have drawn out (in some detail) their rooms. Or maybe you'll just say u_u;; and continue with your lives ^^ Pairings... whee! (btw, narwen, next ch is the entrance of a 'rogue' character. You find them everywhere ^^;)
(elerian) Well wasn't that a happy chapter? We could make another happy chapter if we get reviews! I wrote an ode to melba toast this morning, yep I did! Wheeeeeeeeee!!