Title: I'm Your Fella, Cinderella!
Chapter: Eight
Author: Andariel666
POV: Tyrael
Disclaimer: Once upon a time there were two authors, united in their desire to do naughty
things to a pair of certain elves. They had great fun, but alas, in the end, they never owned the elves, nor the cannon, for that belonged to the LOTR Empire. *Runs away crying*
A/N I was *so* pleased, we were so pleased to discover you all liked the last chappie. As
promised a week later, we are giving you more. Special thanks to Jamie, who is our super beta and a fellow pervy elf fancier. *grins* Also I wanted to let you all know you how amazing it is that we even get these chappies out in a week. LOL Andy is in the UK, I'm in the CA (USA) and our beta is in Australia. It's transcontinental madness! Ok..now.
Reviewer messages:
Crystal Snowflakes: Thanks again! Hope you read more!
Jamie the beta goddess: Aside from the sincere thanks for being our beta, thanks for the lovely, glowing review. *grins*
Ebony: You might have problems with exclamation marks...but we still luv ya for the review. Sowie we had to give ya a cliffy. It was my fault really, Andariel had nothing to do with it...
Honolulu: Hope you did not feel you waited too long. Glad you wanna know..
Vendea: Glad you liked it, as for Kalia and Legolas...you'll have to wait and see...
Simbelmyn: LOL You gave perhaps the funniest review I have read in a long time. I'm glad you
didnt get all snobby bout cannon issues and read our ficlet. Even though we are not purists,
I and very much aware of the movie and book cannon, and I will try to not stray too far off...that said, I am tickled pink to learn you were reduced to a squealing rantor, as far as the reaction to their entering..wait and see...and as far as what legolas thinks, why he cut
her hair, and etc.,...you will have to wait and see. *wink*
Silverdracowolf: LOL I'm glad u likes it..keep readin hee hee.
Rori: Wish granted..*waves her wand importantly*
P3gurl: I aim to please, more is coming...
Sokochan: I'm glad it was long enough for ya lol more comin up! As far as who poisoned whom, that won't be answered till later..
Gypsy: Thanks! More coming...er I've been sayin that a lot..er nevermind.. Alrighty! Thats all folks..keep those reviews comin! If I get a hundred..you all get a sequel hee hee.
*
chapter 9
The tournament had been amazing.
Fighting all these males, winning – and none of them knowing I was the one who cooked their dinners. Hah!
I was most definitely winning. I had beaten four Elves already – and I had barely broken into a sweat. The burly Elf, Gilliam, had been a tough one – yet I noticed that his weakness was that he leant more towards the right side. I used this to unbalance him, bringing him to the ground. He then amused me greatly by attempting to kick me in the crotch.
I merely grinned at his surprised, defeated look. He probably expected me to have padded out my crotch or to have the ability to ignore pain – he never suspected that I did not have something down there for him to kick. So I heaved him up, spun him around, and dropped him to the floor.
After a moment, he rose an arm, and cried out, "Amin lava!"
I cheered, and raised my arms, happiness sweeping over me.
I felt invincible.
I caught Kalia's – ahem, Arion's eye, and smiled, winking. I was on a roll, most definitely.
Following Gilliam was a pathetic Elf. He might have been a tough opponent were he not intoxicated by pipeweed. I took him out in three minutes flat, and grinned, as the crowds cheered. I waited for my next opponent eagerly, wanting to continue my success further.
Of course, nothing prepared me for who my next opponent was.
When Haldir entered the fighting arena, I almost gaped. He was dressed like a true warrior, in his native Lothlórien garb, his hair perfectly in place, along with his imposing, cold manner. But goodness, he did look lovely. I was not sure whether to just stand there and stare at him or forfeit the match by throwing myself at him and ripping his tunics off.
But I did neither, and merely faced him as I was meant to do.
A slight smile curved at his lips. "Vedui', Trystalorn son of Trynnon."
The name seemed so unfamiliar that I almost did not respond. I was still surprised that it was Haldir himself standing in front of me. I would have thought he would compete in archery, if anything, but it seemed he rated himself in hand-to-hand combat.
"Vedui', Haldir son of Halthon."
We both bowed our heads, and stood in the fighting stance, waiting for the judge to give us the signal. I waited with baited breath, watching the calm but alert features of the one I desired standing not too far away, readying himself to attempt to bring me to my knees (even if not in the why I would have preferred). His stormy blue eyes were glittering at the prospect of battle, his muscles taut and ready.
A stunning creature.
The signal rang out, and we began to circle each other lazily, sizing one another up. His eyes raked over my form, and were I in my normal servant's outfit of burgundy bodice, dirty white blouse and forest-green skirt, I might have blushed under that torturous gaze. But I knew that right now, Haldir was merely trying to discern my weaknesses.
But he is my weakness, He is the only weakness I have.
The thought consumed me before I could stop it.
Frowning at this, I decided to make the first move. I stepped forward jerkily, causing Haldir to reconsider his step, as I dropped back into a prowl to match his own. He watched me still, searching for signs of a way he could bring me down effortlessly. But I wasn't going to let him take me down without a struggle. However I was worried that he just might succeed – since I was beginning to feel a bit light-headed.
'Tis the heat', I thought. And these awful bandages are chafing my skin.
I darted forward again, and this time, I kept to the attack. I swung my fist, and was blocked easily, as I was brought painfully close to that face…
I ducked his own attack, barely managing to flip backwards neatly, and I spun a kick, which he deflected by gripping my foot. I jumped up, spinning in midair, and I felt my foot catch his chin. He dropped my other foot, startled, and I landed on my feet, flinching at the thought that I might have badly hurt him.
But no – all I had done was catch him lightly. He looked amused and impressed, which emboldened me further. We began the circling again, and when I cast him a cocky smile, I could see a flash of wonder in his eyes. He recognised my trademark look.
But did he recognise me?
Nay, he did not.
For had he recognized me, he would not have charged at that moment with the intent on trying to win the tournament. He would have walked over to me, yelled at me – perhaps even spanked my bottom for insolence. He would not allow me to continue.
I deflected his blows with as much ease as I could muster, but it was tough. I could see why he was March Warden – he was speedy, accurate, and cunning. When his fist hit my lip, making my head fall back, I was surprised at how the aforementioned fist had gotten past my defences, but before I could ponder it, I dropped into a split, with my legs spread out on either side, and executed a punch to his groin – not for the first time, either, remembering my handshake-gone-wrong.
His eyes widened in pain, and he gave off a hoarse cough. I quickly got back to my feet, but Haldir was already composed, forcing aside his pain, and swinging a kick to my hip, which brought me back to my knees.
With a grunt, I swung at such an angle that I could perform a high-kick to him, forcing him backwards so that I could get up again. We charged at each other, but both dodged out of the way at the last moment, both somehow choosing the juvenile tactic of pulling each others' hair as we ran past, causing me to yelp, and him to growl.
Facing him, I stuck my tongue out, and he raised an eyebrow. We both charged at one another, and this time, it was a clash for dominance – a clash of arms and legs and teeth and hair.
It seemed oddly erotic to me, as I could smell his male scent, feel his heart beating, he was so close to me. I had taken pains that he would not recognise my own scent, so I had no fear of that.
In our tangle of arms and legs, I managed to uppercut his chin, claw his face with my nails, pull his hair, and knee him in the gut. He had bitten my shoulder – which had made me want to grin like I was insane, he split my lip, had kicked my shin in another bout of childish brawling, and had mainly bruised my skin with his tight grip.
All the while, his scent was making me awfully heady. I was growing more and more drowsy and dizzy, caught up in the almost sensual movements of him, his grace, and his skill.
I then realised how hard it was to breath.
Frowning, I bent down, resting my hands on my knees.
"Trystalorn?" Haldir asked, and I could actually hear concern in his voice.
But I barely acknowledged him. I felt myself swooning, and heard cries of distress just before I hit the ground and all went dark.
*
Drawing breath was one of the most beautiful things I had ever felt – as if a weight were being removed from my shoulders (or in literal terms, my breasts). This, added to the memory of seeing Haldir in his battle stance, seemed to have made my day.
Dear Valar, that Elf was beautiful.
Yet at the same, I was worried about my punishment for entering the tournament. Not just from the judges and Elrond – but Haldir himself. I knew that this beautiful, tempting Elf had a rather ugly, off-putting temper.
I'd come back to consciousness hearing Kalia saying, "Aye, that's it my girl, breath, breathe."
She was cradling me in her arms, and I realised then what the entire problem had been due to one small fact. My chest was unsupported. I had strapped myself down too tight, and removed the air from my lungs. I had been very foolish.
After I'd managed to gasp out, "Did I win?" And Kalia laughed, I noticed the rather angry look on the March Warden's face. But I did not fear him – I felt regret. In several ways, truth be told.
The first was that I had probably almost defied him by entering the tournament – even if he technically was not my master, and the second was a rush of guilt and regret when my night with Rathborn hit me once more – I still felt as though I had wronged him in some way. It was a very confusing thought.
"Stubborn elleth," Kalia sighed. "I told you not to strap yourself down too much. You are too…"
"Big?" I finished, forcing a smile to play on my lips, and trying to avoid Haldir's angry gaze.
"What in Arda were you two thinking?!" Lord Elrond cried, pushing his way through the crowd.
"I would like to know that myself," Haldir growled.
I sighed, and Kalia helped me up, so that I could run if need be. I was a little unsteady on my feet, still light-headed as the oxygen was rushing back to my brain.
"We were entering the tournament," I replied, putting a bewildered expression on my face. "I thought that was obvious?"
The Elves around us were frowning and muttering amongst themselves, disapproving of the audacity and cunning Kalia and I had both been showing.
Apparently, they had expected us to remain leashed and reigned like a pair of Wargs.
"It was clear that two such as yourselves are not allowed to participate," Haldir said through clenched teeth.
"And why is that?" I asked, glaring at him. "Is it because we are female, or because we are the ones to lick your boots?"
"Tyrael!" Kalia hissed in warning, not wanting to cause a scene (even though we already had), but the words were already out of my mouth, and Haldir's hand closed over my arm in a rather tight grip.
His eyes were flashing angrily, his jaw set.
"You have repeatedly been nothing but trouble," he snarled, his voice so harsh it actually hurt me – I could almost feel myself flinching away from him, sad that I had annoyed him.
"You have broken property, you have fought with others, you speak in disrespectful tones – more importantly, and you flout rules. You have gone too far, Tyrael…"
"Haldir, we beg of you to try and understand," Kalia pleaded, shooting me cautious glances, as my anger mounted. "How would you feel were you not allowed to show your skills? Simply because of your social status?"
Haldir seemed to have been touched by her words for a moment, before his grip tightened on my arm to very painful extremes, his blue crystalline eyes flashing.
"Haldir, perhaps we should…" Legolas started, but Haldir was already growing more and more annoyed at me, and this made me feel worse and worse.
"I could have killed you, woman!" The March Warden growled, his arched eyebrows drawn in a way that would probably make an army of Orcs turn and flee. "I injured you!" At this, he pinched my lower lip quite hard, making me cry out at the pain. I realised that on the inside of my mouth, my two front teeth on the bottom had gone through my lip during the battle.
That bastard, I thought.
"Is it that you enjoy being hit?" He continued, apparently not realising what he had said. I paled visibly, barely noticing that all the Elves surrounding us had gone silent and were watching the exchange.
Legolas seemed to have noticed that the colour had drained from my face.
"Haldir…"
"I do not answer to you, oh great March Warden of the Galadhrim!" I yelled, sarcasm and venom lacing my voice, ignoring Kalia's pleas for me to calm down.
Haldir had gone too far with that comment. I pointed to Legolas, whose face seemed kindly and concerned. "I answer to him! He is the one I serve, not you. You do not have any right to tell me what to do; I am not one of your wardens! Now LET – GO!"
I attempted to tug my arm away, but he held fast. I actually raised my hand to rake my nails across his face, which I had actually done during our little combat session, but I thought better of it, and dropped my hand to my side.
Haldir was so surprised that I did not strike him that he seemed to lose concentration, and I took the momentum to give a shove, just hard enough that he would be taken by surprise, and I yanked my arm from his steely grasp. I cast Kalia a quick glance, before I ducked and ran for the secret passage to the kitchens.
*
Not much later, Kalia and I were called to Elrond. The regal Elf was watching us with blank eyes, as we sat awkwardly in front of him. We had broken many rules – older than us by far – repeatedly.
This would not be let off lightly.
I waited for his anger, his condemnation. He was just studying the two of us, and just as I was getting uncomfortable, he said, "I grow weary of meeting you ladies in my office for reasons which have nought to do with servitude."
He clasped his hands, index fingers steepled under his chin, and regarded us with his blue eyes.
"I have decided that the punishments shall be dealt by your employers. Kalia, you shall receive yours from Haldir, and Tyrael, you shall receive yours from Legolas. It seems only right. Perhaps they can talk some sense into the two of you."
He gave us a dark look.
"Do you realise what chaos you caused? Disrupting the old rituals and rites of our ancestors, flouting rules, disregarding those whom you are supposed to be loyal to."
Kalia cleared her throat nervously. "My lord, we merely wished to…shine, for once…"
Elrond sighed. "Contrary to what you may believe, I do understand. But you also have to understand that obedience is what binds you to your tasks. Lack of obedience could result in exile." He gave us a serious expression, his eyes belying his exasperation. "I feel that perhaps I should leave the punishments elsewhere."
I nodded. "As you wish, my lord." I was happy for once that Haldir was not my employer.
"I shall, however, make one punishment. You and Kalia are not allowed to the ball," Elrond said. "Normally, at such an event, the servant's and their masters can be equal in their joy. I am afraid that you shall miss it."
I saw Kalia's jaw open and close, as she looked lost for words.
"My lord!" I said quickly. "'Twas all my doing! Do not punish Kalia when she was simply following my example."
"She should know better," Elrond said evenly. "I know she does know better."
A slight smile suddenly graced his features.
"Although, I must admit – it was rather bold of you both to enter the tournament. Quite a surprise."
He obviously liked surprises. He shook himself.
"That is all. Your employers shall be your punishers. Neither of you will attend the ball. I apologise for such misgivings, but you must learn the errors of your ways. Good day to you."
*
Misery.
Sweet misery. Which was so good at keeping me company, especially if it was accompanied by a bottle of wine.
Well, in fact, there still was no wine, due to the distraction of myself and Rathborn, so I was actually drinking the cooking brandy. As soon as I had entered the kitchens, I had ordered the Elves to take a break, and stay away for at least fifteen minutes, so that I could be alone.
They naturally considered me to be in charge when Swelter was unconscious – which was most of the time. I was the only one with any proper cooking skills, not to mention leadership skills, which I had acquired from dear Orevon.
So I sat alone in the kitchens, accompanied only by the various meats and foods ready for the dance after the tournament. Well, the bottle of brandy was also accompanying me.
Soon after I had sat down to prepare myself for a long night in the kitchens, the door opened and Kalia came in, frowning but not looking angered. She still appeared to be worried. Worry was not an expression sent my way often, let alone by a female – Kalia was the first female I had spoken to properly in many decades – millennia, even.
This was made all the more incredible by the fact that her close friendship with her employer had the tendency to bring about a jealousy that was rarely awoken within me.
I said nothing, but offered her the bottle, which she accepted and gladly drank from.
"I have not yet seen Haldir," she said after a moment, gauging my reaction with watchful eyes. "I suppose I am worried as to what punishment he shall give me."
"It is Legolas who shall give me mine," I replied, drinking deeply from the bottle. "Haldir has no place to bully me in such a manner."
Kalia shot me a wry look. "But we are the dirty servants."
"Aye, but we are also Elves," I replied, shooting her a dark look. "Do not forget that servants we may be, but we too are deserving of rights and rules. It shall be Legolas Thranduillion who shall dealeth my punishment."
I sighed, shaking my head. "To become a male seemed like a good idea at the time. I so wanted to show my skill in hand-to-hand combat – yet I knew that being a woman and a servant combined would be against me."
I glanced down at my chest.
"It never occurred to me that it might be a health hazard."
Kalia laughed softly. "'Twas a good idea, except for two things. The first being that yes, we should have guessed that you are too well-endowed to be strapped down, and the second is that it was not a good thing that Haldir was there when you awoke. Or that he fought you in the first place."
My mind instantly flashed back to the fight.
"He moved with much grace, like a cat," I murmured. "Almost ridiculously graceful for such a strong Elf."
Kalia smiled at me. "You do not deny the attraction?"
"Nay, I do not deny it – except, perhaps, to him. I am merely intelligent enough to realise that such things are folly."
I gave her an apologetic look.
"I am sorry I cost us the ball, Kalia."
"'Tis of no matter."
"Do not lie. I know you were looking forward to the gathering. I have ruined it."
Kalia opened her mouth, as though to say something, when the kitchen door opened. Legolas stepped in, his face carefully neutral. He was standing tall, the proud warrior prince. He was quite beautiful when it came to it. His eyes were an amazing blue that put the sky to shame. His skin, although slightly darker than Haldir's, was fair. His hair was golden.
I could see why Kalia liked him – well, I would like him! He was the sort of sweet Elf I had imagined being mine once upon a dream – one who would not treat me harshly, but care for me – no matter of my build and personality.
Aye, I could have liked him greatly.
If he were not so overshadowed by another Elf in my mind.
Legolas was warm to Haldir's cold – yet for once, I did not seek the fire. I was turning to the ice. This confused me more than I let on, and seeing the prince caused me to heave a heavy sigh. Legolas stepped into the room, regarding us with blank eyes. It seemed he was almost as good as the March Warden by ways of neutrality.
Eventually, he turned to Kalia, and said, "Perhaps you should go to tend Haldir, Kalia. I fear that his patience is not with him at the present."
She nodded, giving him a look full of meaning, and he returned it.
I felt a now familiar pang of jealousy stab at my heart. Kalia desired her employer, and even if it was considered forbidden, he obviously returned her feelings. And she still seemed to be at peace with him even though he had cut her precious hair.
Kalia gave me a small smile before leaving the room. I watched her go, not quite wanting to be left with the prince. When the door was shut, I flicked my gaze to Legolas, and arched my already severely arched brows at him.
Legolas regarded me for a moment, as though studying my face for something, his own face thoughtful.
Then he said, "I have not known you for long, Tyrael. In fact, I barely know anything of you, past your service and your name. But I do know some things about you, some that you know that I know, and others you do not."
He pulled out a stool and sat opposite me. "I understand that we have not necessarily had a comfortable relationship like the one Haldir and Kalia share…"
An expression must have crossed my face, because he murmured softly, "So dour. Why?"
"You need not feel as though you owe me anything, my lord. I merely do my duties, nothing more. I do not need a friendship."
My words were clipped and uncontrolled, and all I could do was search his face for any signs of offence. But he merely raised his eyebrows.
"Is that really the cause for your distaste, I wonder?" Then he continued, "I would like it if we were on friendly terms, Tyrael. I do not merely wish for you to 'lick my boots'."
I flushed slightly and looked away. "That comment was not meant for you, my lord."
"Indeed," he murmured. "My name is Legolas, Tyrael. Use it. Now – do not think I have come here merely to punish you for your disregard of rules and rituals. I understand that were I in your position, I would have tried anything to enter such a contest. I understand that the rules seem unfair – but you must also understand that all rules are there for a reason, even if they do not seem right. Perhaps some day, Lord Elrond shall see the misgivings of such things, and shall let Elves of all stature compete in events of skill showing and celebration. But until then…you must understand that today, you and Kalia have disregarded rules that are older than you yourself."
"Kalia was at no fault in this," I said quickly. "It 'twas I who suggested that we disguise ourselves. I persuaded her. Do not punish her, for she merely followed my lead."
"And it is honourable of you to speak thus," Legolas smiled. "And now I must ask. Who, exactly, was your comment for, if not me?"
I frowned. "'Tis of no importance."
"I do not believe you."
I glared at him, before realising my impropriety, and forced myself to break my features back down to neutrality.
"Believe what you will, my lor – Legolas. It was a comment fired merely out of anger and bewilderment."
"At whom?"
He looked innocent enough, but I knew he was far from it.
"This is doing nothing for building a friendship, Prince Legolas," I said blandly, drinking some brandy.
He sighed. "Perhaps you believe me blind, Tyrael. You believe that I do not see your eyes follow him, or the admiration you hold. You think I do not see that you both anger each other to the point of battle. And that it is all done with a passion. There is no hatred, and you cannot say there is. I know there is not."
I found myself staring at him wide-eyed. I had thought I was being so discreet in my jibes, my gazes. How could I have been so naïve?
"I understand that there has been an altercation of late that has the two of you glaring at each other as though you can see evil in each others' eyes. But do not think I do not know how you feel for him."
"And what is it I feel?" I asked sarcastically, raising the bottle for a sip.
"You love him."
I choked, sending good brandy everywhere. Legolas patted my back.
"Nay," I choked out. "You misunderstand…"
"I do not. I know it, for I am in the same situation."
I glanced at him, suddenly seeing the pain in his eyes. He was torn between what was expected of him, and what was in his heart.
"Amin hiraetha I am sorry, Legolas," I said softly. "I should be more considerate."
A small smile graced his lips. "Do not apologise, Tyrael. 'Tis not your war to wage. You have your own to deal with."
I nodded. I loved him. How could I love someone like Haldir? How could I have allowed it to happen? It was ridiculous.
"He hates me," I found myself saying.
"Nay, never hate you," Legolas chuckled. "I feel that the two of you have the same problem. You are both stubborn, both dominant, and both blind. Have neither of you spoken to each other?"
I frowned. "Of course we have spoken."
"Properly? Without argument, jesting, or orders?" I shook my head. "Then that is what should be done."
"Oh, well that is easy for you to say. Kalia is quite docile and pleasant," I scoffed. "The March Warden is like a Warg which has been neutered with a blunt sword."
Legolas shook his head, though the curve of his lips suggested that he was amused by that simile.
"It is my suggestion, mellon. It is your choice whether you take heed of it." His face suddenly became serious. "I have managed to convince Lord Elrond to allow me to handle your punishments. I believe he would have been rather strict with you." He crossed his arms. "You are to clean my weapons whenever I deem fit. I shall show you how. You shall do reparations to my clothes and the clothes of any others I say. You shall be courteous and follow orders without argument or disregard. I am being very courteous compared to what Lord Elrond would have had you doing. Have I made myself clear?"
"Aye, you have. I thank you for your kindness," I murmured, my throat dry (which was incredible, due to the amount of alcohol I had been downing).
"And if you dare to be so bold as to appear in my service drunk, you shall regret it. Understood?"
I cringed, but said, "Aye."
Legolas studied me for a moment, before saying, "I have also managed to reason with Lord Elrond. You and Kalia shall be allowed to go to the ball, but if either of you put one toe out of line, such leniency may not be shown again. I am to accompany Nessa – I believe that Haldir may accompany Kalia. An Elf showed a particular interest in accompanying you."
Kalia is too damn lucky, I thought, and gave the frowning prince a questioning gaze.
"An Elf by the name of Rathborn," Legolas said, giving me a quizzical look. "He does not appear to be trustworthy. Are you to accept his invitation?"
My heart was sinking in disappointment. Not Haldir, but Rathborn.
I sighed.
"Aye, Legolas. I know Rathborn – you need not concern yourself with him."
Legolas nodded, though looked dubious. He cleared his features, stood tall, and said, "I suggest you call your staff back. The ball shall not be long away, and the food needs to be prepared." I nodded. "I shall see you soon, Tyrael. Good day."
"Good day, Legolas," I replied. "I thank you sincerely for both myself and Kalia. She shall be most pleased."
He nodded, smiling, and turned away. I sighed, watching him leave. I felt friendlier with the prince – yet the chasm between Haldir and myself seemed the same – if not wider. I had not felt this feeling of loss since I was in my childhood. It felt as though a portion of warmth and content of my chest had been removed. I had angered the one, which I loved…and if I knew myself, I would probably not do anything about it even if I knew I was being foolish.
A new thought then occurred to me.
"Sauron's balls!" I gasped. "A ball! That means dancing!"
*
I had left Kalia alone for an hour or two, hoping that she and Haldir would finish whatever they might be doing. In my mind, I could clearly picture some unsavoury things they might have been doing, but I told myself that she had eyes for the prince and the prince alone. So I found myself walking to Haldir's door, frowning at the fact that I had to go through him to speak to my friend.
Hastily, I knocked. And his normal, arrogant voice said, "Enter."
I opened the door, and ignored him as best I could, settling my eyes on Kalia, who was helping him with the fletchlings of his arrows.
"I came to see if I could borrow Kalia for a short time."
She glanced at me, and then at Haldir, looking worried about a repeat performance of our last argument over her. But Haldir merely said, "You have been here for some time. You may leave."
I watched as she rose, all the while outwardly ignoring the March Warden, but watching him with my peripheral vision, as he lounged back in his chair, his fingers gently grasping an arrow, stroking the fletchlings.
'Oh, to be that arrow.'
I left the room, not bothering with the formalities. I had only agreed to be courteous to Legolas. Outside the door, once I had shut it, I turned to Kalia.
"You are lucky," I murmured softly. "I did not realise until recently how kind and courteous the prince can be."
She smiled, and was about to reply, when the door opened, and Haldir handed her the hair scarf she had been wearing since after the tournament.
"You forgot this," he said in a cold, curt manner, and gave me a very cold look before disappearing into his chambers, slamming the door.
I gave Kalia a look that spoke of my surprise and disgust at his childish behaviour.
"I think he heard you, Tyrael," she murmured, looking at the door with something akin to concern.
"Oh? And my complimenting the prince for a positive character trait deserves such rudeness?" I shook my head.
"Tyrael, you do not underst…oh, let us go," Kalia sighed. "You did, after all, request my presence."
"Aye, I did," I nodded, and led her towards my room, which had been given to me due to my duties to the prince.
It was right next to his rooms. It was the first time Kalia had been there. On the way there, I muttered, "I trust Haldir has asked you to the ball?"
"Aye," Kalia sighed. "I am truly sorry, Tyrael. I did not know how to say no…"
"You need not have said no anyway," I replied shortly. "I already have a date."
I was always tentative about letting people into my room – the only one who had been in there was Legolas. It was not large, but not exactly small, either. The bed was a beautiful pine, its coverlets surprisingly soft and beautiful. There was a bedside table, a small chest-of-drawers for my garments, a mirror, and a shelf along the wall, which held the few books I owned. It was small, boring, but better than my previous room.
I blushed slightly when I realised that the pillow of Haldir's, which Kalia had given me, was on my bed, plain for all to see. I used it as my own pillow, inhaling his scent as I collapsed into sleep. His scent was a mixture of rain, woodland, leather and red wine.
Kalia glanced around, and her gaze settled on the books on the shelf. She studied them.
"This is a nice room, Tyrael."
"You only say this because it is next to the quarters of your fancy," I replied with a smirk, watching with odd unease as she plucked a book of battle strategies and combat skills from the shelf.
"Aye, you caught me," she smiled. "What is this book, mellon? Is this how you learned to fight?"
"In a way," I replied. I wondered whether to tell her more, and lapsed into silence for a few moments, before I said, "I was trained to fight by a great Elf named Orevon. After he was slain by Orcs…I trained from the book."
Kalia raised an eyebrow. It was the most I had ever told her of myself, and it obviously stunned her that I had spoken of my past. She opened the book to the first page, where the inscription was.
To Tyrael,
May this book aid you in times of need.
~Orevon.
"Why did you ask me here?" Kalia asked softly, and I noticed that she suddenly seemed to have become…softer. As though my speaking of Orevon had warmed her in some way.
Perhaps she was pitying me?
The thought sparked anger, but I forced it away. I did not need pity. Even if Orevon had been the father I had never had, I knew that the Valar had called him to the Halls of Mandos appropriately. They did everything right – why would they prematurely take him away?
I always imagined Orevon reborn as an Elfling, learning to fight all over again. It made me smile, and when Kalia looked at me oddly, I twisted the smile into a smirk, and said, "I desire your help, my dear."
"Oh? And what, pray tell, can I help you with, arwenamin my lady?" Kalia retorted, placing the book back with infinite care.
"Legolas has been courteous enough to…" I caught the pained look on her face, and knew what was wrong. "Do not think of it. The March Warden's tempers shall simmer down soon enough. He is a grown-up, though he does not act like it. If he dislikes that the prince earns praise for his actions, then he needs another millennia to grow out of his immaturity. Now, back to the important manners at hand. The prince has been courteous enough to ensure that we go to the ball. And that is where my problem lies."
"You have nothing to wear?" Kalia asked instantly, apparently not even dreaming of my true problem. She glanced critically at my chest. "We should probably attempt to make something – we do not want a repeat performance of the tournament, thank you very much." She studied me. "Judging by your colouring, I think a rich autumn red would suit you perfectly…"
I glanced down at the bodice over my blouse – it was burgundy, and it had always suited me, so I had to agree – red was my colour.
"…I hear Petrenella herself is a very good seamstress…"
"Kalia."
"Hmmm?"
"As much as I may – and do – need a dress, that is not why I called you here."
"Oh? And why did you call me here?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Well, you see, it is a little problem that may be quite big in some cases…"
"Meaning…"
"Well, you see, at this ball – I need to do certain things, with certain people even, and if I cannot do certain things, then I would appear rather foolish…"
I was babbling, and I knew it.
"Tyrael."
"Aye?"
"You cannot dance, can you?"
I heaved a sigh.
"Nay, I cannot." I gave her a pathetically lost look. "Would you teach me?"
"Would this be to impress a certain March Warden?" She teased, and suddenly looked confused when my face darkened.
"Tyrael, what has happened between the two of you?"
I said nothing.
"Is it to do with the comment he made? About…" she took a breath. "About enjoying being hit?"
I felt the sneer before I could stop it, and slowly fought it back away.
"Is it about that comment? I suppose. But not only that. His entire being infuriates me beyond belief – I do not need him."
"Tyrael…"
"I am learning to dance for my date," I forced out, hating myself for my words.
"Oh, yes, your date. Who might that be?"
"An old friend of mine. Rathborn."
*
Learning to dance in my room was particularly tough. It was not small, but was not necessarily large enough to learn dancing in either. And aside from that – I was a clumsy idiot.
When I was not stepping on poor Kalia's toes, I was tripping over my own feet and falling into various items around the room. At one point, when she spun me around and I lost my footing, I even fell into Legolas, who was concerned by all the banging noises and had come through the door linking his rooms to my own. He managed to keep both of us on our feet, giving us surprised looks.
"I am learning to dance," I grouched, rubbing at a nasty bruise on my arm. "I am not sure I like dancing."
He laughed. "Such things take time, Tyrael."
Soon after this, I had both Legolas and Kalia teaching me various forms of dancing. I grew better – but some dances were doomed from the start. Legolas realised this, and soon gave up when I sent both him and Kalia crashing to the floor.
I really did not know my own strength.
Legolas was soon called away by Elladan and Elrohir, who gazed at us curiously. Although he did not show it, I knew that the prince was relieved to be out of this bull paddock.
Kalia spent some more time running through the dances that I was quite good at, and eventually proclaimed that I was well enough. I thanked her profusely, and as she left to deal with Haldir, I sought out the prince's laundry and clothing for the ball. By the time it was finished, I left it on the bed, and decided to find him to tell him that all was prepared.
I found him with the twins, Estel, two silver-blond haired Elves and Haldir – they were all competing amongst themselves, whilst Kalia sat nearby watching.
It had been unexpected that they all be together.
"Legolas," I said, purposely ignoring Haldir.
All of them turned towards me curiously, and Legolas smiled.
"Your clothing is ready and waiting for you. Is there anything else you require?" I could not help but quirk my lip at this comment, as it could be taken many ways.
Elladan snickered, and was elbowed by his brother.
"Aye," Legolas nodded, ignoring his friends. "I need you to go to the kitchens and run the preparations for the feast. It would seem that the head chef is unconscious, and the other Elves are at a loss as to what to do."
I nodded. "I shall go there right away."
I noticed the two silver-blond Elves eyeing me with interest, both with grins hovering upon their lips. I raised an eyebrow curiously, but gave a subtle bow.
"My lords."
Looks of amusement flicked across their features. One of them bowed back.
"If I am not mistaken, this be the infamous Tyrael."
I blinked, and the other Elf snickered, whilst the one who had spoken cast a glance to Haldir, who was glaring at them openly.
"Indeed I am. Might I be so bold as to inquire your identities?"
The so-far silent one smiled.
"Ahh, yes, for we have not been introduced before, even though I have seen you about. I am Orophin, and this is my brother Rúmil. We are brothers to Haldir."
Oh, lovely, I thought inwardly. Yet now that I knew, I could see the similarities between the three. I did not need to look at Haldir to compare him – his face was burned into my mind.
I executed another bow.
"'Tis a pleasure, my lords. I apologise that I was not so fortunate as to meet you earlier. Yet, if I may ask – in what way am I famous?"
Rúmil chuckled. "Ahhh, but we have heard much about you, my dear! From both Kalia and Haldir."
I had to use much willpower not to blush.
"And that Petrenella," Orophin added. "But she referred to you as the 'damned hellcat'. 'Tis not difficult to know of whom she was speaking of."
He rested his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up, so that the sun glinted off my eyes.
"Interesting…"
Haldir cleared his throat loudly. "Come, brothers. Do you dawdle because you fear to be beaten?"
Both brothers cast amused glances at the haughty March Warden, before looking back to me, an odd expression in their eyes.
"I should probably leave anyway, since I am needed in the kitchens," I added, nervous at the contact Orophin had shown. I had felt nervous enough when discovering who they were, let alone to have one touch me.
"You have permission to leave half an hour before the ball," Legolas said with a smile. "I understand that women need a certain amount of time to prepare."
I put on a look of mock hurt. "You think I am a preening wench?! I am hurt, my lord!"
"You are going to the ball?"
I shot a cold glance Haldir's way, annoyed that he had forced me to answer – he was, after all, better than me, damn him. Why did he have to speak to me? I was ignoring him perfectly well, and he had to ruin it.
"Aye," I said, fighting to keep the annoyance from my voice.
I turned back to Legolas. "I must leave now. I shall see you later, perhaps."
I gave him a sweet smile. "If only all were like you – thinking with the head on their shoulders, not elsewhere. Good day, Legolas. A pleasure meeting you, Rúmil and Orophin."
I turned and walked away before they could even consider saying anything, but I could feel Haldir's glare on my back, and I heard Elladan saying (amidst the laughter of Haldir's brothers), "I like her. I hope that am I to have a daughter some day, she will be like her."
"Me too," Elrohir said, and then paused. "Which is probably why I shall never reproduce."
*
Kalia collected me promptly from the kitchens forty-five minutes before the ball was to start. I could tell that she was preoccupied, and neither of us spoke as we moved to her rooms – where we had agreed to get ready after we had smashed mine up during our dancing lessons. I knew she was feeling a cacophony of emotions – guilt, at attending with The World's Most Arrogant March Warden, disapproval at my earlier comment, and nervousness at the upcoming ball.
I would have been lying if I had said I was not feeling nervous. In fact, when Kalia had first arrived, I had said, "Perhaps I shall forfeit my position at the dance and simply help in the kitchens."
Although Haryon looked pleased at this, Kalia definitely did not. She fed me a line on how the prince had worked hard to gain us the privilege, before she showed a sign of her temper and odd mood by grabbing me by my braid and dragging me from the kitchens.
Petrenella had indeed helped me with my dress. Kalia had already measured me (and at the time, had given a surprised squeak at my chest measurement – apparently, it was still bigger than she had suspected) and given the preferences to the eager elleth, and now I was struggling into an autumn red dress, Kalia lacing it up behind me.
Even I had to admit it was a thing of beauty.
Of a velvety material, it was an off-the-shoulder dress, running around the back in a straight line, until the front, where the lines met in a shallow V, which still showed how the bodice of the dress pushed my breasts up and created a rather shocking cleavage. The waist of the dress met in a belt, which dipped like a crown to follow the line of my abdomen, ending in a point, like a triangle. The skirts were made up of layers – the layer of red velvet, then a layer of deep purple lace, then the normal petticoat under-layer. The sleeves were full, and hung down in billowing waves of red velvet and purple lace.
It was an amazing dress – I felt almost like royalty, and when I saw it in the mirror, I could scarcely believe it was I – I had gone from the grubby elleth in the dirty white blouse, burgundy bodice, and deep green skirt to a princess.
Kalia cleaned up my face, before helping me brush through my freshly cleaned hair, brushing so much that it shone like it never had before. Dead-straight curtains of dark brown/black. I had been considering a style, but Kalia said to leave it down – no braids, just my hair hanging loose and free. I did not protest – I only tied my hair back normally because of an unfortunate incident one time in the kitchens when Rathborn's old endearment 'fire-cat' became a horrible truth, as I fought to beat the flames out of my hair when their loose length had accidentally found their way into a flame in the furnace.
Kalia herself wore a rich purple dress that hugged her narrow shoulders and came down in a V. There was a bodice to the dress, which thrust her chest up just enough to create a cleavage.
The purple silk of her dress was covered with some darker purple lace. Her sleeves were billowing, the dress clinging to her slim figure. Her short blond hair (which was surprisingly less curly) had now been pinned back in an elegant way, hiding her hacked-off locks. She looked truly beautiful – and I told her thus.
She blushed. "Do not flatter me, Tyrael. It is you the Elves shall flock to."
I frowned. "Not with Rathborn on my arm, my pretty." She gave me a concerned look, but I had returned to smoothing out the folds of my dress.
I felt ridiculous in some ways. My form was sturdier than most elleths, and so I felt almost as though I were dressing in the attire of the opposite sex. I said so to Kalia, frowning, and she laughed.
"You look fine, Tyrael. Surprisingly feminine."
I chuckled, before giving myself one last scrutinising look, and leaving Kalia to Haldir, whenever he would arrive. I was to meet Rathborn in the apple orchard, where he would then lead me on to the dance. He was never fond of picking his fancies up from their doors, but merely set meeting places. It was part of what made him so mysterious.
His violet eyes were brought out by the silvery sheen of his tunic, his dark hair contrasting in a very attractive way. The smirk at his lips was seductive, and his roguish eyes followed me carefully.
"Is this truly Tyrael before me?" He drawled.
"I trust that was rhetoric," I drawled back. He grinned, and looped my arm through his.
"Aye, I could never outwit you, my dear." We began walking towards the ball, me feeling rather silly in the dress. As though sensing it, Rathborn said, "It may be different to normal, but you look lovely all the same. Do not fret."
His words were oddly comforting – something that I was not used to from Rathborn. I tried to keep my suspicions curtained though, and merely nodded. Inside my mind, I was calculating that Haldir had probably collected Kalia by now. He was always, always punctual – that much I knew.
We arrived at the hall promptly, and I was amazed at the burst of bright colours, at the –
Absolute lack of merriment.
The Elves were just milling about, talking among themselves, but longing for decent music and a good dance. And no wonder. The musicians seemed to be in a blind panic, and could not get out one proper chord. What was wrong with them could have been anything between drunkenness and fear, but it was terrible.
"Dear Valar," Rathborn murmured quietly. "I have seen more cheer in a burial ground."
I frowned. If this had been what the torment had been over, I might as well have stayed in the kitchens. Even Lord Elrond looked particularly pained, as did his children, sitting beside him. I caught the gaze of Elladan and he gave me a cross-eyed look, making me laugh. He then gave me a confused look, before his eyes lit up with recognition. He nudged his brother, who gazed at me, and both grinned the sort of grins that made you feel that a foul plot was afoot.
Before I could consider it, however, Kalia's voice said from beside me, "Well, this is most definitely…calm."
"Dormant," Haldir's voice added coldly, and I turned to glance at them. Kalia was shaking her silvery head at the musicians, looking truly pained by their music.
Haldir was glancing at Rathborn, who was glancing back at him with amusement dancing in his eyes.
Kalia glanced at Haldir, then at me and Rathborn. Her brow creased slightly, but she did not frown as blatantly as Haldir was.
"You would be Rathborn?" She asked, making an attempt to be polite.
I understood her hesitance. Rathborn's presence was not one to be trifled with unless you were the scandalous and brazen sort. He was stifling, and seemed to give off a scent that was dangerous in itself. His eyes held levels of darkness even though they were light, and his ego was displayed before him proudly. As I said, if you were not the sort of elleth to like that type, then he would not go down well at all.
"Aye," he said with a smirk, his eyes glittering, as he bowed his upper body to her. "And who might you be?"
"Kalia," she replied, giving me a quick glance. I could tell she did not really like my choice of date.
Though she was nowhere near as bad as Haldir. He was openly sizing Rathborn up, sneering and frowning and glaring at odd intervals. It would have been amusing were I not both annoyed with him and too busy noticing how good he looked. A midnight blue tunic with silver embroidery adorned his well-built upper body, his hair in its normal style and glinting in the light. His chin was raised, his eyes stormy as ever. He would not have needed a big sign pointing to him and reading 'March Warden of the Galadhrim' for you to know his status and importance. It came off him in waves.
Yet Rathborn refused to be intimidated. He merely gave Haldir a calculating look, whilst saying, "Haldir of Lórien. I was wondering when I might cross your path. Congratulations at the tourney. You definitely tried Tyrael's skills. Yet she stood her ground."
He gave me a smile that actually never ceased to melt me. "I have trained her well."
Haldir glanced between the both of us. "You trained her?"
"I thought Orevon trained you," Kalia frowned, puzzled.
"Orevon trained you?" Haldir asked.
"You knew Orevon?" I blinked.
"Aye, I did. A fine warrior. He trained you?"
His shortness was bothering me.
"Aye, he did. When he passed into the Halls of Mandos, I learned from a book, until Rathborn was generous enough to offer his services."
"I'll bet," Haldir murmured.
I felt my face flush, and Kalia cast him a surprised glare, but Rathborn merely smiled, tightening his grip on my elbow.
Was Haldir purposely trying to spite me?
Perhaps I had been giving him too much credit in not expecting it. It was as though he had just insinuated me as a vacuous whore. Before I could start yelling at him, another interruption came.
"Could this possibly be Kalia?" Rúmil was gazing at the poor, blushing Elf with wide eyes, which were both playful and sincere in their awe. "Why, you are as beautiful as this gathering is…idle."
"Dormant," Haldir repeated grumpily.
"And look here," Orophin added, his eyes on me. "The hellcat herself. But how different she looks! Red most definitely suits you." He bowed down, taking my hand and kissing it.
I realised that there had to be a flush upon my cheeks by now. "You shall have to save me a dance, dear Tyrael."
"And I," Rúmil added, smirking.
I shook my head with a sigh. "I would not wish my dancing upon anyone."
By the time the next distraction came, I was ready to pull my loose hair out of my scalp. It seemed that Haldir's brothers were not so keen on Rathborn either, though they were both more tactful about it than he was. But Orophin's glances sent my way were making me deeply uncomfortable. Something unreadable shone in his eyes, and it made me want to recoil into the crowds. It was not a nasty look, but it was similar to how I might have felt were Haldir to just sit in front of me and stare at me for hours on end. A sort of scrutiny and analysis, I suppose.
The party was still fairly dead. The royalty and nobles were talking amongst themselves, but seeming bored beyond words. The Lord and Lady of Lórien were sitting together, speaking to Elrond, whilst another Elf that looked disturbingly like Legolas but for the narrower face listened keenly, sipping from his goblet.
Thranduil.
I glanced at Kalia and saw that she had noticed him, and looked pained. I gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, and she rewarded me with a smile.
When Legolas finally appeared with Nessa, I do not think a single elleth in the room was able to hold in a gasp. The pale blue, shimmering tunic hugged his form comfortably but revealingly, with no extra detail but the shimmering colours of the surface. He held himself regally, and his shocking blue eyes glittered against the tunic's powers, his hair resting down his back and to his waist in golden strands.
"Nessa looks lovely," Kalia murmured, fighting to keep the sadness from her voice but failing slightly. I cast a critical eye over the gold digger on the prince's arm.
"Aye, but she is the tempting crisp skin of the apple, hiding the maggots in the core," I whispered to her, and her lips curved at the thought.
The ball was still not very lively, and I was just about to give up hope, what with hearing Rathborn talking to Rúmil and Orophin about combat techniques (and it seemed blatantly obvious that the brothers wore mocking stares), Haldir speaking to an Elf I did not know, and Kalia forlornly watching Legolas as he sat at the table.
But as I was ready to say before – the next distraction came as I was beginning to grow weary. The distraction was in the forms of Elladan and Elrohir, who marched up to us, and with simultaneous bows, turned to my dear friend.
"Kalia, I request a favour," Elladan said, giving her a smile. "I fear that should this party continue thus, I shall have to become inappropriately drunk, leading to an unfortunate incident like last time, where I was swept away unconscious down the currents of the Bruinen."
I raised an eyebrow.
"So I implore thee…show us your violin skills. Bring this ball to life."
Kalia blushed such a shade of red that were she to stand in front of me, she would all but disappear completely.
"Nay, I could not!"
"Please, Kalia, we are begging you," Elrohir said, clasping his hands. "We shall surely be dragged into pits of despair should we have to sit through another conversation about the weather."
I smirked. Some things did not change no matter what status you were.
"I agree with them, Kalia," I said, casting her a glance. "Perhaps your music – if it is as good as Lord Elladan says – shall awaken the party."
"But Tyrael…"
"You need not be shy, Kalia. You have a chance to show your talents. Take it."
She frowned, giving me a mournful gaze. She did not want everyone's attentions on her, which was obvious. I smiled as softly as I knew how, and gave her an encouraging nod.
With a sigh, she allowed the now happier brothers to lead her to where the violin was.
"This should be interesting," Rathborn murmured. "Do you believe she can bring the party to life, aikanarocath hell-fire cat?"
I frowned thoughtfully, watching as Kalia began to tune the violin carefully, slowly attracting the attentions of many in the hall.
"Aye, I believe she can."
*
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