Disclaimer: Just saw TTT yesterday: marvellous! I do not own anything that J.R.R. Tolkien (and for that matter: Peter Jackson, don't curse die-hards) already owns.
7. Tough study
After a nice bath Thûlocuil cleaned her training garments with a soft cloth. She greased the leather tunic, arm- and legplates. Then, with content, she looked around. She was clean and warm from the bath, her gear was clean and greased, she had had a good tough training; what more could a warrior want for?
In her mind she saw a flash of two eyes. Thûlocuil sighed. She knew who he was before she was introduced to him. Stories of the Fellowship were told everywhere in Middle Earth. Different from each other, but the still single Elf prince spoke much to the imagination of maids and for that was a favoured gossip and story-telling object. She had heard stories about him from she-elfs and women, from Dwarves and Hobbits; these had been full of friendship and the ones told by Hobbits tend to be very long too. She had even heard Orcs talk about the Prince of Mirkwood, full of hate but, none the less, with admiration. And now she had seen him in real life...
He did not look as prissy as some, men, had told her, and not as divine as some, women, had told her. They all had forgotten to look at his eyes. They had been polite but she had seen the hint of irritation he was trying to hide on their introduction, the friendship for Aragorn and Arwen and the sudden curiosity towards her later on.
'I do not want to think, I want to know' a voice echoed in her head. Warmth ran through her blood. Yes of course she liked the way he looked and there had been a warmth in his voice when talking of his Dwarf-friend but... He was an elf, an elf who had witnessed personally the devilish things Sauron had done to his kind and friends. She ought to beware of him! With all pleasure I'll keep my eyes on him! She saluted to herself in the water of the bath. With a smile she pulled the plug and turned to pick up her things from the floor.
Back in her bedroom she sat down on the bed. The adrenaline from the training had not yet died out and she knew that sleep would not come easy. But then there was no need for it right now; the next days would not be though, she would travel through secured and familiar terrain, besides, an elf did not get too tired when skipping a night's sleep. First she packed her things into two bags she could place on either side of her horse's saddle. The dress and lace tunic went at the bottom. There would be no need for them were she was going. Their material was not at all elvish, but felt would not tear when she would crawl underground, slog through streams, and scramble over rocks and cliffs or heaving swords at the next orc. Although she did most of these things in more appropriated clothes.
Since her travel tomorrow would be on horse back she kept a sleeveless tunic behind. This one had a split both in front and back to sit on a horse with ease. For now she had just put on a dark-brown, rough silk, long sleeved shirt and black silk pants. The shirt was decorated around the neck, wrists, and lower hem with sand-coloured embroidery. Her boots were on in a minute. She let her still wet brown hair hang loose. Then she left her room, went down some stairs and came to a corridor in the oldest wing of the castle. From her earlier visits to Arwen she knew where she was going. There was an old oaken door with iron ornate hinges. She opened it and was standing in the dark library. With her elven-sight she had no trouble finding the heard with wooden blocks beside it and a tinder in the soft light from the stars that came through the windows. She lit a fire. After that she went to the large books with dark blue covers on which was written in silver 'Index'. She would read all she could find about this Prince.
Aragorn woke up, he felt hungry. He watched Arwen sleeping next to him. Her open eyes reflected what little light came in through the transparent curtains. He went to the window and pushed aside the curtains. From the constellation of the stars he made up that it was past midnight but still some hours until the break of day. He would go down to the kitchen, see if he could find some food. He put on a silk bathrobe and opened the door. "The notorious food-lifter strikes again..." Arwen whispered. "Dîn melethril egor Im avon anna nad" Aragorn whispered back [Silence lover or I will not give a thing]. "Im edhellen, Im avo boe aes ned i fuin [I'm elvish, I don't need food in the middle of the night]. "Faed deri..." [Just wait...] and with that the 'notorious food-lifter' was on his way.
Returning from the kitchen Aragorn saw a streak of light coming from under the library doors. I wonder who is working there tonight, he thought and entered. In front of a nice fire he saw Thûlocuil. She was sitting in an easy chair with legs crossed and her boots on a little table. In her lap was an old book and on another chair there was a pile of books waiting. When he came in, she looked up. "Bain dû, Thûlocuil". She returned his goodnight. "I thought you would not mind" she continued, gesturing around her. "Not at all, please..." he motioned her not to get up. "Your library is well organized, it is a pleasure to search for information in it" she said. "Thank you."
There was a silence. Then Aragorn said: "I know that Arwen knows you very well and the two of you've probably talked about this, but I would like to say something to you about Prince Legolas."
Her interest was drawn at once, a sublime smile being his encouragement. Aragorn continued: "He would not be offended in anyway if you were to tell him what you do for a living. He would most likely be interested. You are a well-skilled warrior and so is he. Because of this and his descent he is one who certainly knows how to value another great warrior. Be it man or woman, dwarf or elf. Did you know that he was part of the Fellowship of the ring?"
"Yes I did," she replied. He had not expected that. If she knew, then why had she not just told Legolas that she was a Ranger like himself once? "Well, I just wanted you to know," with that he bid her goodnight and went to the doors. Then, just before he went through them, he turned and said: "I probably should not be saying this and Arwen... well, he is a dear friend of mine and if you'll play him, you'll find me on your way! Bain dû!".
The door was shut firmly and the King of the West went on his way.
A/N: 13 September 2003: changing some errors in spelling.
