The Misadventures of Caladriel and Rinnalaiss
By Caladiel Meril W.
Starring: Caladriel, Legolas, Thranduil, Rinnalaiss, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Halbarad, and an Elf named Faelon.
Okay, major no-no here, Rinnalaiss is an extra daughter to Elrond, Caladriel is Legolas' younger sister. Rinnalaiss might be adopted, I'm not real sure, but her older brothers Elladan and Elrohir dote on their tomboyish little sister. She's the baby of the family sort of, although older than Estel in years, she is still quite childish. Caladriel is not allowed to be the tomboy she wants to be, and is only Legolas' half sister. This is preLotR, Estel is only about thirty or forty. Why all this guessing? This is a transcribed dream, that's why. Oh, and a groom in this story is not a groom in the sense of bride and groom, a groom is actually someone who takes care of the horses.
And this switches from Third person to first, usually Caladriel's POV. I kind dreamed it as an onlooker that they didn't see, but sometimes I was in her head. Couldn't think of Gondorian names, I have a list of Elvish names, but I wasn't able to locate a Gondorian and Numenorean name generator.
Chapter two: Rangers.
Caladriel had a descision before her. Would she do as the groom asked or would she ignore him? If his guesses had been wrong, she would have decided against following the servant, but he had been right, she was misserable, and she wanted change so badly. Descisiveness surged through her. She quickly shed her silken robes and pulled on the clothing he had left her. Her daggers and curved short sword fell out of the rolled bundle. He had planned well. She unsheathed a dagger, watching it sparkle, the mithril inlaid blade had almost a glow of its own. Her daggers were plain in comparison to those of her brother, they lacked the etchings and decorations that his had, and only a faint inscription graced the blade. She contemplated taking the dagger to her hair, its length was not practical by a long stretch of the imagination. She decided against it for now, she would ask Faelon before doing anything rash. Pulling on the soft leather boots, she recognized them. They were the same pair that Faelon had made for her three years ago, the ones that her father had had taken away. She wondered for a moment if this constituted stealing. No, she decided, there was nothing wrong with reacquiring her own possessions.
She looked in the mirror, seeing herself arrayed as a male Elf, but unable to hide her femininity. For a moment, she wavered. Legolas would surely find out, and if he caught Faelon there'd be no saving him. She was royalty, her brother held no power over her, but her groom had no such claims in his favor. She threw her cloak around her shoulders, pulling the hood over her long locks. She snuffed the candles, and snuck out to the courtyard.
Faelon stood in the shadow of the stable, holding Caladriel's horse. He looked sadly at Legolas' horse, which he had purposely lamed so the prince wouldn't be able to follow them right away. It wouldn't do the animal any lasting damage, but Legolas wouldn't be able to ride it for a week at least. Faelon gazed out from the depths of his hood, hoping Caladriel hadn't decided to wake the house and send them out on him. He saw the light in her window go out, and shortly thereafter, he saw her lithe, cloaked form slip across the courtyard to him. She ducked into the shadow and looked at him.
"It was very thoughtful of you to include my weapons, I thank you." she whispered. "But my hair, should I cut it? It will only hinder me."
Faelon's heart leapt into his throat. He didn't want to see her hair shorn, but perhaps it had to be done.
"Take off your cloak, my lady, I will see if it must be cut." Faelon said quietly.
Caladriel removed her cloak and let the groom inspect her hair.
Faelon sighed. It was much too long, unless....
"What are you doing?" Caladriel asked, feeling Faelon's fingers twined deep in her hair.
"Trying to save your golden tresses." Faelon said, braiding quickly and deftly.
When he finished the braid the tail reached the back of Caladriel's knees.
"It should do, I don't think anyone will notice." Faelon said. "Mount your horse, if you would."
Caladriel swung onto the back of her silver horse, soothing the highstrung animal with her voice and hands. The stallion recognized his mistress' voice and quieted, ears flicking back and forth to listen to her, getting ready to obey her commands. Faelon touched her elbow. Caladriel looked at the tall, dark haired Elf.
"Calad, can you shoot a bow?" he asked.
She nodded. He handed her a bundle.
"Hold this in front of you. We will have very little trouble getting where we're going, but you'll need those later." he said. "Shall we go?"
"We'd best, unless you want to meet a cranky Glorfindel." Calad said, nudging MithrilArrow toward the open gate.
Faelon nudged his bay horse in the same direction, keeping the horses at a walk until they were out of the earshot of those in the house. Then he nudged the dark colored horse into a brisk trot, which the gray copied.
"Where are we going?" Calad asked, just loud enough for Faelon to hear.
"To visit some friends of mine. They are expecting you and anxious to make your acquaintence." he said.
Caladriel questioned the wisdom of this journey for a moment, but Faelon smiled.
"Calad, I am no friend to theives. They are good honest men, not one will harm you." Faelon said. "It is because of them that we meet with so little trouble on this ride. It was they who brought your stallion and weapons from Mirkwood."
"Then I owe them. That was a kind thing for them to do for someone they do not know." Calad said.
She didn't catch Faelon's smile, or she would have asked more questions.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am happy to be up on Mithy again, I like a horse with spirit. The palomino I rode before was quite dull, she had no spirit, she was merely plodding. Mithy has spirit and heart, and takes joy in life. He is sleek and lean, swift as eagles. I wish that Faelon would stop being so mysterious, although I suppose that is what draws me to him. I wish I knew what friends we are going to visit. Other than Estel, I know no men. I watch Faelon ride with that easy, confident air that spurs his mounts to give their all. He has always had a special way with horses, even when he was small, he could approach the wildest stallion and pat it without coming to harm. All Elves have a way with animals, but none of them save him are foolish enough to approach a wild stallion with a band of mares. Sometimes I fancy that Faelon isn't really an Elf, he is of horse kind, and that is why they so willingly obey him, why they are so quick to love him.
Faelon's mount moves with easy grace, which is amazing, considering that the poor creature was dreadfully lame a few weeks ago, having been ridden too hard and abandoned by a thoughtless mortal. I think I have so many pets because this groom of mine is obsessed with bringing home strays! Without fail, if he goes hunting or for a ride, he comes back with an animal (or human) of some sort. For instance that peacock who has taken up residence in Lord Elrond's stable.
Faelon drops his hood in order to hear better, reining in his horse. I rein in Mithy too. Faelon whistles softly, and a small foal comes out of a thicket, looking at him quizzically. The little one's mother follows. I steal a glance at Faelon, knowing these are the strays of the week. A man slips through the thicket, and I get the feeling he is not a stray. He is cloaked and armed, and I wonder if Faelon's prediction of a safe journey has just been proved wrong. Not so.
With a cry of joy, Faelon dismounts and approaches the man, who tells him he wasn't expected here so soon. Faelon tells him some things about the events in the Hall of Fire, and the man walks to my horse's side to look up at me. I can see the look of curiousity on his face, and an unruly lock of hair falls over his forehead. As I gaze at him from the depths of my hood, I realize he wants to know what I look like. With a smile I drop my hood around my shoulders. The mortal's jaw drops, he has never seen a she-Elf before.
The man offers to ride ahead and tell the rest of the group that we are coming, leading his saddled horse from the thicket. Faelon declines the offer, asking him instead to ride with us. Faelon remounts his horse and pulls my hood back over my head. Apparantly, my hair reflects too much moonlight.
"What is going to follow us in quest of my hair?" I ask doubtfully.
"They might mistake it for gold, and unfortunately, that is the only gold in the world that I cannot replace." he says simply, provoking a soft snicker from our riding companion.
"It's true, Faelon. One doesn't come upon gold such as that very often. I cannot believe you don't have a battalion of bodyguards for this princess. She is everything you said and more." says the man. "And you trust us with her? How can you let her out of your sight, HalfElf?"
Faelon laughs softly.
"I only leave her in the care of ancient Elf Lords who think of her as a daughter." he says.
I am puzzled, why did our companion call Faelon a halfElf? I never thought he could possibly be one before, but that would explain his hair and his eyes. Perhaps our guest was only joking, surely Faelon is a full blooded Elf.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faelon stole a glance at Caladriel. He wondered if she'd made note of the half Elf remark. He certainly hoped not. One look at her face told him she had, and a slight fear made him tingle at the realization that she was learning too much about him. He could see the glow of the campfires up ahead, and urged Shadow to move faster.
The men in the camp looked up in surprise at the rider who rode into their camp as though he belonged. Then they recognized him and knew he did in fact belong there. A cloaked figure on a silver gray stallion followed him, and one of their own men followed the stallion's rider. They wondered if perhaps the cloaked rider was the Elven princess that their half-Elf friend worked for, and that he talked about nonstop. They were sure that her beauty had been exagerated, knowing that none was so fair as the daughter of Elrond, whom they actually had yet to see. Of course, Faelon protested that just because Arwen Undomiel was exceptionally beautiful, it didn't mean all the other Elf-maids were ugly. He felt that his lady ran a rather close second to the Evenstar. He rode to the leader's tent. Halbarad came out into the firelight quickly, and they all concluded that this was in fact the princess of Mirkwood. They looked on expectantly, wanting to see this Elf that Faelon so admired. Faelon aided the rider to dismount, and then she dropped her hood back, unclasping her cloak. She was wearing some of their friend's clothes, which surprisingly flattered her figure. They looked at the long golden braid in astonishment, realizing that her hair probably enveloped her in a golden cloud when it was loose.
She was apparantly not too lady-like, they decided, seeing the short sword and obviously custom made daggers that she carried. She bowed gracefully to Halbarad, who also looked surprised. She was civil, but not overtly friendly, regal, but not prideful, authoritive, but not over- bearing. They liked her at once, it was easy to see why Faelon was so fond of her. They knew much about him that she did not, his history and parentage, how much he liked her and wished that he were her equal.
"I see you will not be welcome in the halls of Mirkwood anymore." Halbarad said sadly to Faelon. "They will think you a kidnapper."
Faelon nodded. He wouldn't show it, but being thus cut off from the place he'd called home for so long did hurt.
"There is little love lost between the prince and I. He has always thought ill of me, and he has tried to have me sent to the prisons many times." Faelon said. "He did not like that I got along with his sister so well. I wish that he did not hate me so, I would love to treat him like a brother."
It was Halbarad's turn to nod.
"You've done your best, lad. It's all that they can ask of you. But why did you bring Caladriel along with you?" Halbarad asked.
A smile played about Faelon's lips.
"Two reasons. One, I love her. Two, she is not a refined lady like the Evenstar, she prefers dirt to silk any day, and she was becoming depressed because of trying to be a refined lady when she's a Ranger at heart." Faelon said.
Calad smiled, having overheard the dirt-and-silk remark. It was true. She loved to be out in the open air without worrying about ruining a dress. One of the Rangers came to her.
"My lady, would you like me to picket your horse to graze?" he offered.
She offered him a warm smile, already starting to enjoy this adventure of Faelon's.
"No, thank you. He is half wild, you would only be hurt. Just turn him loose, he will not run." she said.
The Ranger looked surprised that this princess had smiled at him, and woodenly obeyed. He went back to his bedroll, looking stunned. One of his comrades snickered.
"What's the matter? Did she hiss at you?" he teased.
"No, I could have handled that." the young Ranger sighed. "She talked to me, and without sounding condescending. Those Elf nobles usually aren't so kind, they're usually so lordly that they make you uncomfortable."
"Except for Lord Elrond. I've met him, Strider lives in Rivendell a lot of the time. I've met Elladan and Elrohir too. They aren't so bad."
Mithy was now loose, and the horse wandered out of the encampment to join the picketed horses, closely followed by Faelon's bay. That was a fine horse, no mistake. If Elves were in charge of horsebreeding, the riding horses would be much improved. Their own horses were often crossbreds of Elven and Rohirrim mounts, inferior to the horses of the Elves, but superior to the horses of Rohan. Halbarad noticed his men sitting up and watching.
"What, do you think you're all Elves? All of you get some sleep except for the sentinels." he said.
"Really my lord, sentries this close to Rivendell? Why?" Calad asked.
"They'll be out looking for you soon, princess, and rest assured, they would come looking for us almost right away. We're going to move camp in the morning." Halbarad said. "And you needn't call me 'my lord', I am only a Ranger."
"I'll call you 'my lord' until you start calling me 'Calad'." Caladriel said, her rebelious streak surfacing.
Halbarad looked surprised.
"Very well then, Calad it is." he said, giving Faelon an odd look. "Just call me Halbarad."
With a slight bow, Caladriel walked to the far end of the camp and sat down near the horses.
"She *is* and odd one. Wherever did you get her Faelon?" Halbarad asked.
"I told you she was odd. But you ought to see her throw knives, she's not to bad." Faelon said, hiding a smile. "She's been taught a lot of things that most she-Elves aren't taught. I suppose that's my fault. I really shouldn't have taught her to ride that half wild horse, or have encouraged her to learn to throw knives. Her brother taught her a lot of the rest, he wanted to see if he was any good at teaching."
"Backfired, didn't it." Halbarad snickered.
Faelon smiled and nodded. Halbarad was exactly right. It amused many of the Elves as well.
By Caladiel Meril W.
Starring: Caladriel, Legolas, Thranduil, Rinnalaiss, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Halbarad, and an Elf named Faelon.
Okay, major no-no here, Rinnalaiss is an extra daughter to Elrond, Caladriel is Legolas' younger sister. Rinnalaiss might be adopted, I'm not real sure, but her older brothers Elladan and Elrohir dote on their tomboyish little sister. She's the baby of the family sort of, although older than Estel in years, she is still quite childish. Caladriel is not allowed to be the tomboy she wants to be, and is only Legolas' half sister. This is preLotR, Estel is only about thirty or forty. Why all this guessing? This is a transcribed dream, that's why. Oh, and a groom in this story is not a groom in the sense of bride and groom, a groom is actually someone who takes care of the horses.
And this switches from Third person to first, usually Caladriel's POV. I kind dreamed it as an onlooker that they didn't see, but sometimes I was in her head. Couldn't think of Gondorian names, I have a list of Elvish names, but I wasn't able to locate a Gondorian and Numenorean name generator.
Chapter two: Rangers.
Caladriel had a descision before her. Would she do as the groom asked or would she ignore him? If his guesses had been wrong, she would have decided against following the servant, but he had been right, she was misserable, and she wanted change so badly. Descisiveness surged through her. She quickly shed her silken robes and pulled on the clothing he had left her. Her daggers and curved short sword fell out of the rolled bundle. He had planned well. She unsheathed a dagger, watching it sparkle, the mithril inlaid blade had almost a glow of its own. Her daggers were plain in comparison to those of her brother, they lacked the etchings and decorations that his had, and only a faint inscription graced the blade. She contemplated taking the dagger to her hair, its length was not practical by a long stretch of the imagination. She decided against it for now, she would ask Faelon before doing anything rash. Pulling on the soft leather boots, she recognized them. They were the same pair that Faelon had made for her three years ago, the ones that her father had had taken away. She wondered for a moment if this constituted stealing. No, she decided, there was nothing wrong with reacquiring her own possessions.
She looked in the mirror, seeing herself arrayed as a male Elf, but unable to hide her femininity. For a moment, she wavered. Legolas would surely find out, and if he caught Faelon there'd be no saving him. She was royalty, her brother held no power over her, but her groom had no such claims in his favor. She threw her cloak around her shoulders, pulling the hood over her long locks. She snuffed the candles, and snuck out to the courtyard.
Faelon stood in the shadow of the stable, holding Caladriel's horse. He looked sadly at Legolas' horse, which he had purposely lamed so the prince wouldn't be able to follow them right away. It wouldn't do the animal any lasting damage, but Legolas wouldn't be able to ride it for a week at least. Faelon gazed out from the depths of his hood, hoping Caladriel hadn't decided to wake the house and send them out on him. He saw the light in her window go out, and shortly thereafter, he saw her lithe, cloaked form slip across the courtyard to him. She ducked into the shadow and looked at him.
"It was very thoughtful of you to include my weapons, I thank you." she whispered. "But my hair, should I cut it? It will only hinder me."
Faelon's heart leapt into his throat. He didn't want to see her hair shorn, but perhaps it had to be done.
"Take off your cloak, my lady, I will see if it must be cut." Faelon said quietly.
Caladriel removed her cloak and let the groom inspect her hair.
Faelon sighed. It was much too long, unless....
"What are you doing?" Caladriel asked, feeling Faelon's fingers twined deep in her hair.
"Trying to save your golden tresses." Faelon said, braiding quickly and deftly.
When he finished the braid the tail reached the back of Caladriel's knees.
"It should do, I don't think anyone will notice." Faelon said. "Mount your horse, if you would."
Caladriel swung onto the back of her silver horse, soothing the highstrung animal with her voice and hands. The stallion recognized his mistress' voice and quieted, ears flicking back and forth to listen to her, getting ready to obey her commands. Faelon touched her elbow. Caladriel looked at the tall, dark haired Elf.
"Calad, can you shoot a bow?" he asked.
She nodded. He handed her a bundle.
"Hold this in front of you. We will have very little trouble getting where we're going, but you'll need those later." he said. "Shall we go?"
"We'd best, unless you want to meet a cranky Glorfindel." Calad said, nudging MithrilArrow toward the open gate.
Faelon nudged his bay horse in the same direction, keeping the horses at a walk until they were out of the earshot of those in the house. Then he nudged the dark colored horse into a brisk trot, which the gray copied.
"Where are we going?" Calad asked, just loud enough for Faelon to hear.
"To visit some friends of mine. They are expecting you and anxious to make your acquaintence." he said.
Caladriel questioned the wisdom of this journey for a moment, but Faelon smiled.
"Calad, I am no friend to theives. They are good honest men, not one will harm you." Faelon said. "It is because of them that we meet with so little trouble on this ride. It was they who brought your stallion and weapons from Mirkwood."
"Then I owe them. That was a kind thing for them to do for someone they do not know." Calad said.
She didn't catch Faelon's smile, or she would have asked more questions.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am happy to be up on Mithy again, I like a horse with spirit. The palomino I rode before was quite dull, she had no spirit, she was merely plodding. Mithy has spirit and heart, and takes joy in life. He is sleek and lean, swift as eagles. I wish that Faelon would stop being so mysterious, although I suppose that is what draws me to him. I wish I knew what friends we are going to visit. Other than Estel, I know no men. I watch Faelon ride with that easy, confident air that spurs his mounts to give their all. He has always had a special way with horses, even when he was small, he could approach the wildest stallion and pat it without coming to harm. All Elves have a way with animals, but none of them save him are foolish enough to approach a wild stallion with a band of mares. Sometimes I fancy that Faelon isn't really an Elf, he is of horse kind, and that is why they so willingly obey him, why they are so quick to love him.
Faelon's mount moves with easy grace, which is amazing, considering that the poor creature was dreadfully lame a few weeks ago, having been ridden too hard and abandoned by a thoughtless mortal. I think I have so many pets because this groom of mine is obsessed with bringing home strays! Without fail, if he goes hunting or for a ride, he comes back with an animal (or human) of some sort. For instance that peacock who has taken up residence in Lord Elrond's stable.
Faelon drops his hood in order to hear better, reining in his horse. I rein in Mithy too. Faelon whistles softly, and a small foal comes out of a thicket, looking at him quizzically. The little one's mother follows. I steal a glance at Faelon, knowing these are the strays of the week. A man slips through the thicket, and I get the feeling he is not a stray. He is cloaked and armed, and I wonder if Faelon's prediction of a safe journey has just been proved wrong. Not so.
With a cry of joy, Faelon dismounts and approaches the man, who tells him he wasn't expected here so soon. Faelon tells him some things about the events in the Hall of Fire, and the man walks to my horse's side to look up at me. I can see the look of curiousity on his face, and an unruly lock of hair falls over his forehead. As I gaze at him from the depths of my hood, I realize he wants to know what I look like. With a smile I drop my hood around my shoulders. The mortal's jaw drops, he has never seen a she-Elf before.
The man offers to ride ahead and tell the rest of the group that we are coming, leading his saddled horse from the thicket. Faelon declines the offer, asking him instead to ride with us. Faelon remounts his horse and pulls my hood back over my head. Apparantly, my hair reflects too much moonlight.
"What is going to follow us in quest of my hair?" I ask doubtfully.
"They might mistake it for gold, and unfortunately, that is the only gold in the world that I cannot replace." he says simply, provoking a soft snicker from our riding companion.
"It's true, Faelon. One doesn't come upon gold such as that very often. I cannot believe you don't have a battalion of bodyguards for this princess. She is everything you said and more." says the man. "And you trust us with her? How can you let her out of your sight, HalfElf?"
Faelon laughs softly.
"I only leave her in the care of ancient Elf Lords who think of her as a daughter." he says.
I am puzzled, why did our companion call Faelon a halfElf? I never thought he could possibly be one before, but that would explain his hair and his eyes. Perhaps our guest was only joking, surely Faelon is a full blooded Elf.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faelon stole a glance at Caladriel. He wondered if she'd made note of the half Elf remark. He certainly hoped not. One look at her face told him she had, and a slight fear made him tingle at the realization that she was learning too much about him. He could see the glow of the campfires up ahead, and urged Shadow to move faster.
The men in the camp looked up in surprise at the rider who rode into their camp as though he belonged. Then they recognized him and knew he did in fact belong there. A cloaked figure on a silver gray stallion followed him, and one of their own men followed the stallion's rider. They wondered if perhaps the cloaked rider was the Elven princess that their half-Elf friend worked for, and that he talked about nonstop. They were sure that her beauty had been exagerated, knowing that none was so fair as the daughter of Elrond, whom they actually had yet to see. Of course, Faelon protested that just because Arwen Undomiel was exceptionally beautiful, it didn't mean all the other Elf-maids were ugly. He felt that his lady ran a rather close second to the Evenstar. He rode to the leader's tent. Halbarad came out into the firelight quickly, and they all concluded that this was in fact the princess of Mirkwood. They looked on expectantly, wanting to see this Elf that Faelon so admired. Faelon aided the rider to dismount, and then she dropped her hood back, unclasping her cloak. She was wearing some of their friend's clothes, which surprisingly flattered her figure. They looked at the long golden braid in astonishment, realizing that her hair probably enveloped her in a golden cloud when it was loose.
She was apparantly not too lady-like, they decided, seeing the short sword and obviously custom made daggers that she carried. She bowed gracefully to Halbarad, who also looked surprised. She was civil, but not overtly friendly, regal, but not prideful, authoritive, but not over- bearing. They liked her at once, it was easy to see why Faelon was so fond of her. They knew much about him that she did not, his history and parentage, how much he liked her and wished that he were her equal.
"I see you will not be welcome in the halls of Mirkwood anymore." Halbarad said sadly to Faelon. "They will think you a kidnapper."
Faelon nodded. He wouldn't show it, but being thus cut off from the place he'd called home for so long did hurt.
"There is little love lost between the prince and I. He has always thought ill of me, and he has tried to have me sent to the prisons many times." Faelon said. "He did not like that I got along with his sister so well. I wish that he did not hate me so, I would love to treat him like a brother."
It was Halbarad's turn to nod.
"You've done your best, lad. It's all that they can ask of you. But why did you bring Caladriel along with you?" Halbarad asked.
A smile played about Faelon's lips.
"Two reasons. One, I love her. Two, she is not a refined lady like the Evenstar, she prefers dirt to silk any day, and she was becoming depressed because of trying to be a refined lady when she's a Ranger at heart." Faelon said.
Calad smiled, having overheard the dirt-and-silk remark. It was true. She loved to be out in the open air without worrying about ruining a dress. One of the Rangers came to her.
"My lady, would you like me to picket your horse to graze?" he offered.
She offered him a warm smile, already starting to enjoy this adventure of Faelon's.
"No, thank you. He is half wild, you would only be hurt. Just turn him loose, he will not run." she said.
The Ranger looked surprised that this princess had smiled at him, and woodenly obeyed. He went back to his bedroll, looking stunned. One of his comrades snickered.
"What's the matter? Did she hiss at you?" he teased.
"No, I could have handled that." the young Ranger sighed. "She talked to me, and without sounding condescending. Those Elf nobles usually aren't so kind, they're usually so lordly that they make you uncomfortable."
"Except for Lord Elrond. I've met him, Strider lives in Rivendell a lot of the time. I've met Elladan and Elrohir too. They aren't so bad."
Mithy was now loose, and the horse wandered out of the encampment to join the picketed horses, closely followed by Faelon's bay. That was a fine horse, no mistake. If Elves were in charge of horsebreeding, the riding horses would be much improved. Their own horses were often crossbreds of Elven and Rohirrim mounts, inferior to the horses of the Elves, but superior to the horses of Rohan. Halbarad noticed his men sitting up and watching.
"What, do you think you're all Elves? All of you get some sleep except for the sentinels." he said.
"Really my lord, sentries this close to Rivendell? Why?" Calad asked.
"They'll be out looking for you soon, princess, and rest assured, they would come looking for us almost right away. We're going to move camp in the morning." Halbarad said. "And you needn't call me 'my lord', I am only a Ranger."
"I'll call you 'my lord' until you start calling me 'Calad'." Caladriel said, her rebelious streak surfacing.
Halbarad looked surprised.
"Very well then, Calad it is." he said, giving Faelon an odd look. "Just call me Halbarad."
With a slight bow, Caladriel walked to the far end of the camp and sat down near the horses.
"She *is* and odd one. Wherever did you get her Faelon?" Halbarad asked.
"I told you she was odd. But you ought to see her throw knives, she's not to bad." Faelon said, hiding a smile. "She's been taught a lot of things that most she-Elves aren't taught. I suppose that's my fault. I really shouldn't have taught her to ride that half wild horse, or have encouraged her to learn to throw knives. Her brother taught her a lot of the rest, he wanted to see if he was any good at teaching."
"Backfired, didn't it." Halbarad snickered.
Faelon smiled and nodded. Halbarad was exactly right. It amused many of the Elves as well.