Okay… It's been far more than the few weeks I'd hoped to finish this in. I am VERY sorry, people, but what with my summer job, and then last semester deciding to try to kill me, I just wasn't able to work on it much. However, now that the new semester has started, I intend to write a lot, so with any luck I can post a few more chapters. I am posting these chapters as I write them, however; so it could be awhile until the next is up. Although, since this chapter is basically setting up the next – I think – it should go a little faster. I hope! We'll just have to see what happens. The recently released Two Towers has boosted my enthusiasm for this story as well – it made me think of how I want to write that section… *grin* Well here it goes! Enjoy!
Part 5: Elrond's CouncilThe bustle of activity in Rivendell that morning was unusual; however, stranger still was the silence in which everyone carried out their duties. Wren, one of the few with no task assigned to her, wandered about the House in bemusement, helping where she could when permitted. Eventually, she gave up even this and fled the quiet chaos for the peace of the gardens. She glanced back when she reached the nearest courtyard and very nearly ran into a green-clad back – she turned back around to find herself bare inches away from a forest-colored tunic partially hidden by long golden hair. With a shocked exclamation, she quickly retreated several paces, and the owner of the back turned in surprise.
"Wren!" Legolas, startled out of his manners, for a moment could think of nothing else to say. He visibly collected himself and bowed, smiling. "Good morning, My Lady. I take it you found the frantic atmosphere in there a little overwhelming as well?" he added, straightening.
She smiled tentatively. "Yes – enough so, I'm afraid, that I nearly ran into you in my haste to escape. Still, there are worse people to run into, I suppose." One delicate, golden eyebrow rose in response, and she continued in a rush. "Were you the man from Gondor, I would have been worse than embarrassed, I fear. I am not ready to face Men." She dropped her eyes to the pale flagstones beneath her feet. Suddenly there was a slightly larger, soft shoed foot immediately in front of her own. Momentarily she shifted her attention to it, puzzled, when a gentle hand firmly took hold of her chin.
She found herself forced to look up into a pair of the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen, though now they were drawn with concern. I had not noticed his eyes before… "Wren, what happened before you came to Imladris?" His voice was gentler even than it had been two nights ago. He almost took her off her guard.
"Before I…" Her eyes widened in shock and fear, and she jerked backwards out of his grasp with such force that she stumbled and almost fell. Instinctively, Legolas reached out to steady her, stopping with one arm outstretched as he recalled that it was in escaping his touch that she had nearly fallen. He let his arm drop, but his eyes were still dark with worry.
"Little Bird…" he murmured.
Wren slowly passed a hand across her brow, and the panic drained out of her eyes, leaving the frightened Elf-child trembling in it's wake. "Forgive me, Lord," she whispered. "I was… Much happened in those days that I would prefer not to relive by recalling them. It was not a pleasant time, though that is the only time I spent with family." She frowned at her own words. Why do I keep betraying myself by telling him these things?
"You lived with your mother then?" he inquired, wandering toward a nearby stone bench and dropping unconcernedly onto it. For that moment he lost all Elven grace, looking simply weary and unhappy.
"Yes."
"I am sorry. It's a terrible thing, losing a parent. I am fortunate, I suppose, considering that my father still lives. Although that brings a different set of problems entirely." He sighed, and, closing his eyes, began rubbing his temples. A headache had been lingering at the edges of his skull all morning – trying to get through Wren's barriers brought it out in force, and there was still the council to attend.
Wren could see the discomfort etched into his expression and slowly, silently made her way towards the bench. "I imagine it does, though I never really knew my father, so I could not say." Legolas looked up at her, the question written in his eyes. "He could not come around the village much – the men saw my mother as one of their women and did not appreciate the Elf's presence. He brought me here when things became…" She flinched away from the memory and stood in silence for a moment. "He…left, almost immediately after, to get my mother. She'd taken ill and needed…" Swallowing, she stared up at the sky, eyes wide so that the wind could dry the tears she feared to shed. "They were attacked on the way back here. From what I heard, my father was killed then, leaving my mother to wander aimlessly until her illness took her."
"It must have been awful. I'm terribly sorry. And I apologize for…prying. I did not intend-"
The Half-Elf's quick headshake interrupted him. "You did nothing, Legolas. At times I need to…talk. Elrond knows. That was why he encouraged his sons to keep an eye on me." Her eyes narrowed as he again rubbed his forehead. She moved to stand before him. "Legolas." Startled, he peered up at her, and the sudden shift of focus made him slightly dizzy. Wren reached out a delicate hand and touched her palm to his forehead. As she closed her eyes, a cooling sensation enveloped his skull, easing the throbbing headache that had taken over the space between his ears. He did not get headaches often – no Elf was plagued by such trivial things – but when he did get them, they were quite bad.
Eyes still tightly closed, Wren slowly lowered her hand, swaying a little. Legolas stood and caught her just as she collapsed. He gently set her on the bench. "Wren? Are you alright, little one?" She opened her eyes, blinking at him in slight confusion. "What happened?"
She smiled slightly. "I keep forgetting that I am not supposed to do that," she answered sheepishly. "Sometimes I can heal – it comes from being a blood relation to Elrond, I suppose. I terrified him the first time I tried it, passing out the way I did. He said if it affects me so badly I should not do it, but how else will I get better at it?"
"It hardly seems worth the consequences!" Legolas stared at her. Had she no concern for her own well-being?
The laugh that escaped her lips thrilled along his skin like the music of a mountain stream. "What would it matter? I am the least of this House – Elrond has been more than generous by treating me as one of his own." Her eyes grew sad, though her smile did not fade. "Besides, I am already plagued by this sort of thing, though the cause is different. I am not concerned."
"Yet-"
Wren fixed him with a steady gaze, and he suddenly felt like a child caught at misbehaving. "Do you not have a council to prepare for?"
He started. "I-" Many thoughts circled within his mind, the foremost being that it was probably time for a hasty retreat if he did not wish to make an utter fool of himself. He bowed low. "My lady." As he turned to go, he suddenly remembered- "Wren?"
She smiled up at him. "Yes?"
Legolas tapped one fingertip against the side of his forehead. "Thank you," he said gently, and disappeared into the House.
Chuckling, Wren tipped her head back to stare at the clear autumn sky. Now why have I been avoiding him? she thought. He is so courteous and sympathetic. That thought hardened the half-Elf's features. But I do not want his pity. She sighed. I do need some companionship – it's getting harder and harder to pretend that I want to be left alone. "I'm so weary of being alone…" she murmured. Drained by her exertion, she slowly drifted into a half-sleep.
* * *
"It's still not fair!" The half-shouted plea woke Wren from her doze. For the briefest instant she did not know where she was, other than that it was still Rivendell. Her hand touched the cool solidity of the stone bench on which she sat and she remembered.
Another voice answered the first, but it was muffled, hushed, and she was not paying enough attention to understand.
"I don't care. Sam and Bilbo got to go – why couldn't we?" Wren recognized this voice, now. The younger Hobbit…what was his name?…ah! Pippin! That meant the other voice had to be Merry.
"Sam didn't 'get to go,' he snuck in, and if we made a fuss they'd have made him leave. You know he's only risking it because he's so glad Frodo is alive, he doesn't want to be separated from him."
"What, and we aren't pleased enough with his recovery? We want to be away from him?"
"Now, you know that's not what I meant!" Wren wondered how long this discussion had been going on. Both sounded quite agitated, though she was uncertain what exactly they were discussing. Pippin was in the middle of another irritated outburst when the two Hobbits reached the courtyard where she sat.
"We fought the whole way here just to stay by him, so why do we have to-" he broke off, and froze mid-step when he noticed her sitting just ahead of them, watching. "Wren – what are you doing here?"
She arched an eyebrow. "I do live here, friends. One might run into me just about anywhere. Am I disrupting your…discussion?"
Merry shifted uncomfortably, but shook his head. "N- not really. Pippin was just… We were talking about the council, and-"
"They wouldn't let us go!" Pippin cried. "They didn't stop Sam from going!"
"Sam snuck in, remember?" Merry elbowed his companion in the ribs.
"Yeah, but it's not like no one noticed him. I doubt the Elves would miss him, and he could hardly slip past Gandalf!"
Wren decided to intervene before their argument could resume. "Come, friends, do not quarrel here," she admonished, rising. "I understand that you were quite worried about your friend, and do not like to be left out of things after having come so far, but I imagine Lord Elrond and Gandalf want as few people as possible to know what is discussed at this council. If they feel you need to know, they will tell you." Smiling down at the Hobbits, she held out a hand to each of them. "Come with me – I will show you the Valley. Surely you have not yet had a chance to see much of it, and it shall take your minds off this council."
They slipped their small hands into hers, and she led them away from the house.
"Lady," Pippin said, tentatively, as they passed through the clearing where Wren had spoken with Legolas, "why aren't you at the council?"
"I?" She was taken aback. "Why would I attend?"
Merry looked up at her. "You're related to Elrond, right? Why wouldn't you go?"
Wren trailed her delicate fingers in the waterfall, then moved passed it, turning to face them. "You forget, little ones," she said sadly. "I have no influence here. My kinship with Lord Elrond does not change the fact that most of his people still do not quite trust me." With a wave of her hand she stepped into the trees. The Hobbits followed quickly.
"But Elrond trusts you – isn't that enough for them?" Pippin asked.
"For some, yes," she sighed, "but not for all. I had only met one Elf before my arrival here, and was consequently more like Men than most half-Elves. I avoided the Elves here for years, and never allowed myself to…to…" Abruptly she stopped and looked sharply at them. "Why this sudden interest in my place here?"
"You seem sad, Wren." Merry replied, embarrassed. "All of the Elves we've seen so far are so happy. I can't help but wonder, why should you be unhappy?"
The half-Elf could not think of a reason, and did not answer as she led her small companions to the field beyond the stables, where the horses were grazing. They had not seen Bill since their arrival in Rivendell, and he trotted gaily over to them, head and tail high. Asfaloth paused his grazing to see what had caught the pony's attention, and, seeing Wren, he kicked up his heels and joined them as well. While the Hobbits fussed over Bill, Wren reached out to stroke the white stallion's fine-boned face.
"Well, my friend, things are moving again. Glorfindel has mentioned the council to you, I imagine?"
"Yes. But you know that he will not leave Imladris this time, no matter what is decided. He has fought his share of battles." He glanced sidelong at Bill. "This one will not be so fortunate, I think."
Wren laughed, and the Hobbits, unable to understand what had been said, looked curiously at her. "Fortunate! Yes, anyone would be fortunate to be able to remain here during what is to come, but Bill will follow the Hobbits." Her smile faded slightly. "But you cannot fool me, dear Asfaloth – I have known you too long. You are as anxious to be away as I."
"Are we such fools, Wren?" he asked, pawing the earth.
"I do no know, my friend; you ask the wrong person. I want out of Imladris more than anything, so it does not seem foolish to me."
Bill looked over at them. "You are not permitted to leave, Mistress?"
She shook her head. "Because of my Sight, Elrond believes I would be in too much danger outside the Valley." With a sigh, she leaned back against a tree and peered up at the sun through its branches – gold on autumn gold. A little bird hopped about on the boughs and chirped merrily at her. An idea came to her. Holding out her hand, she called it down. Asfaloth watched in amusement as she spoke to it, waiting until she sent it away to question her.
"What was that about?" he inquired, and at almost the same instant, Pippin asked the same. Wren laughed.
"You asked why I am not at the council, Pippin – I answered you truly. However, I had not recalled, at that moment, that it is possible for me to know everything that goes on at the council without actually attending." Grinning, she added, "I have sent a spy, to listen." She repeated her answer for Asfaloth.
He tossed his head. "Lord Elrond will not like that, Child. Should the bird be waylaid or captured, the Enemy could gain important information."
Wren was horrified. Again, her mind had betryed her, and she had not thought of all the possible consequences. "Captured… here?"
"Not even Imladris is proof against all the Enemy's spies. Elrond knows of most of the creatures that enter his Valley, but some things do slip past. Glorfindel tells me that only Lothlorien is entirely barricaded against the darkness."
The half-Elf shuddered. She had unwittingly endangered…everything. "I must call him back, then. Yet he is most likely already there, and I do not know if I will be able to reach him without drawing Master Elrond's notice."
The Hobbits were perplexed by her sudden dismay. "Wren, what's the matter?"
Merry asked, concerned.
She turned to him, her face stricken. "I have done ill, I fear, though I did not intend so. Something more to be used against trusting me, should anyone learn of it..." Wren bit her lip, looking into the woods in the direction of the House. "Can you two find your way back, do you think?"
"We should be able to," replied Pippin.
"As long as I lead – if Pip takes us back we'll undoubtedly get lost." Merry received a sharp elbow in the side for his comment.
Too distressed to notice their antics, Wren nodded, then met their eyes, her own pleading. "I beg you, friends, do not mention to anyone the bird I sent to the council. I was selfishly curious and did not think, and I only hope I have not caused any trouble by sending him. But please, tell no one!"
The two agreed, her expression and tone reminding them of nothing so much as a Hobbit child caught with something not hers, and Wren dashed off. Asfaloth stared after her, saddened. She had been doing so well at controlling her child-like self, but the thoughtlessness of her trying to spy on the council had proven that it was not was not entirely under her control. Not yet.
* * *
Wren dashed through the woods of Imladris, and the gardens – her soft shoes made almost no sound on the cool flagstones as she neared the House. The Council was being held in one of the courtyards and would most likely be well guarded. Getting near the council would be practically impossible – for her. Not, perhaps, for her feathered friends. She had counted on as much when she asked the little bird to spy for her. It seemed the very thing she needed, was another small wind-chaser.
At her desperate chirping call, four sparrows and two finches all fluttered over to her, landing on her hands and shoulders, and on the ground at her feet. One boldly tried to perch on her head, immediately getting it's tiny feet caught in her golden hair, and had to be gently loosed before it could panic. Quickly, she explained what she needed of them and that it was necessary that they go quietly. Her shame for her selfish curiosity burned like white fire – even telling the birds of her childish action filled her with humiliation. Fortunately, the little birds took pity on their friend and swiftly removed to find her spy. Only one remained behind.
Wren recognized him as the finch that had told her of the trio of Elves coming to Rivendell from Mirkwood. He fixed her with a steady gaze, his bright black eyes unwinking. She quailed under the weight of that stare – for though he was tiny, he was obviously measuring her by some inner standard. It was clear he did not approve.
"Y-yes, my friend?" she prompted. The finch gave no reply, but after another moment of piercing scrutiny, he flew after his fellows. With a deep sigh of relief, the half-Elf collapsed onto a nearby bench.
As she waited, she admired anew the beauty of the Elven haven. After living among men, this place had seemed like another world entirely, and the effect its serene elegance had on her never faded. The beams of the evening sun slanted through the trees, turning the crystal waters to liquid gold and the trees to burnished copper. Refsil came running along the cool flagstones, finished with some afternoon roving, and his red fur was fire in the odd light. As he leapt into her lap, she wondered if the Rivendell's visitors could see the wonder of this place, despite the darkness of the news they brought. She wondered if Imladris presented the same never-ending awe to other Elves who lived here, and to those who came to it periodically. She wondered if Legolas could see it from where he sat at Elrond's council.
Suddenly both she and the cub turned sharply, hearing a soft noise along the path, just around a bend and out of sight. Just as the Lady Arwen stepped into view, a trio of sparrows landed on the bench beside her – including the fellow she had asked to watch the council. He chirped wildly at his companions, complaining, irritated that they had ordered him away from his post. Refsil, startled by their bold approach, yipped at them, but that just upset the bird further. One finally had enough and trilled an order for silence at him, and he subsided. Wren swiftly explained what had happened and offered her apologies to the little creature, then asked what it had heard in its brief watch. His information held nothing she had not heard before, and as Arwen approached, she quickly sent the birds on their way, thanking them once more. She felt even more the fool, now, having been so concerned about her spy – nothing good or bad had come of it. Though she had to wonder…why was Arwen here?
The Elven lady stopped when she drew near the bench and stared down at Wren. Refsil, sensing his friend's discomfort, bristled at the intruder, a low growl trickling from his throat. Arwen's gaze shifted bemusedly to him.
"You seem to have acquired a champion." Wren did not reply, could not even look at her. She merely stroked the fox's soft back, soothing him.
"Wren," Arwen spoke again. This time the half-Elf met her eyes. Their blue depths where shadowed by her raven-dark hair, given firey highlights by the lowering sun. "Wren," she repeated, "we have avoided each other too long." Her melodic voice was somber, and Wren was surprised, and a little afraid. "All alliances and friendships will be vital for the future. And…" Here she hesitated. "And I need to talk to you."